One Year of Instants

By C M Weller

Throughout the year of 2013, Author C. M. Weller asked readers to send in prompts for relatively brief stories. At the rate of one a day, these stories came out on their blog. Some stories are serious, some are not. Some could not even give a passing glance to any existing continuity. Some are sad. Some are happy. Some are just plain ridiculous. We would like to think that they are all worth your time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C M Weller
• Release date: Feb 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311304193

C M Weller

C M Weller has decided to keep their full identity a secret until such time as one of their works becomes a bestseller. They share a house in Burpengary East with two children, two cats, and a spouse who sometimes thinks they're insane. Every October, C M Weller releases a free short story, in honour of both their birthday and All Hallow's Read. Unfortunately, this author has managed to avoid doing all the things that make author bios interesting reading. Sorry. However, ze has been publishing stories via Smashwords since 2012, and has an Amazon-exclusive novelette titled Free Baby. This writer is allergic to almost all forms of alcohol (long story), too asthmatic to indulge in tobacco, and in possession of a body chemistry that makes the more interesting drugs problematic at best. Thusly, their chief addiction is their own imagination.

Book preview

Table of Contents

Forewarning

Challenge #00001: Sara with a Manual while on Ordeal

Challenge #00002: Toad V Spiderman

Challenge #00003: One Fine Evening in a Villainous Pit-trap

Challenge #00004: They Fight Crime

Challenge #00005: When You Meet a Stranger

Challenge #00006: Be Were

Challenge #00007: Baaa-d Science

Challenge #00008: Uncareful Wish

Challenge #00009: The Perils of Channel-Surfing

Challenge #00010: Obligatory Gender Bender

Challenge #00011: To Catch a Geek

Challenge #00012: Date Night

Challenge #00013: Verdammt!

Challenge #00014: P.B.L.T.B.H.

Challenge #00015: Tough Shells, Soft Hearts

Challenge #00016: Worst. Date. Ever!

Challenge #00017: Don't Go Breakin' My Heart

Challenge #00018: Murder in the Sheets

Challenge #00019: Chosen By the Gods

Challenge #00020: Screw Loose

Challenge #00021: One Hazardous Evening in the Basements of the Xavier Mansion

Challenge #00022: Siracha… Cha Cha Cha

Challenge #00023: About a Girl

Challenge #00024: On the Heartbreak of Flotsam

Challenge #00025: Movie Madness

Challenge #00026: Young Love, Stay Love

Challenge #00027: I Spy

Challenge #00028: Knick-knack, paddywhack…

Challenge #00029: One Nasty Evening on the Mountains of Mad Science…

Challenge #00030: Don't You Cry, Baby Mine

Challenge #00031: Helpmate

Challenge #00032: Like Sands Through the Hourglass…

Challenge #00033: Mad-Anon

Challenge #00034: Julie and Nanny

Challenge #00035: Baby Monster

Challenge #00036: Good Intentions

Challenge #00037: Not My Fault!

Challenge #00038: Wanted Hair Problems

Challenge #00039: Whither Shall I Wander

Challenge #00040: Where Art Thou, Daughter?

Challenge #00041: The Doctor is in

Challenge #00042: The Shocking Truth.

Challenge #00043: The Noodle Incident(s)

Challenge #00044: Life's Great Mystery

Challenge #00045: Time is Money

Challenge #00046: Trial of Error

Challenge #00047: Introducing Senator Summers

Challenge #00048: Daring Rescue

Challenge #00049: Weather the weather.

Challenge #00050: The Fall of Matthews

Challenge #00051: Wrecking the Grade Curve

Challenge #00052: The Weekend Larp Involved Pirates vs. Astronauts, Snow, and Weaponised Fruit, so Here Are Some Prompts Inspired by Real Events.

Challenge #00053: The Perils of Temporal Interference

Challenge #00054: InA-WithA-WhileA

Challenge #00055: Cry Me a River

Challenge #00056: Appreciation

Challenge #00057: Slow Progress

Challenge #00058: Human is as Human Does

Challenge #00059: Unlikely Treasures

Challenge #00060: Zen and the Art of Renovating

Challenge #00061: Nice Guy Syndrome

Challenge #00062: Nice Guy Becoming Good Guy

Challenge #00063: One Fine Day During the Festival of Live Performances

Challenge #00064: Got Three For You Today(1).

Challenge #00065: Got Three For You Today(2).

Challenge #00066: Got Three For You Today(3).

Challenge #00067: Ooh, Ooh, Another One!

Challenge #00068: Post Meltdown

Challenge #00069: Exploitation

Challenge #00070: Looking Back, Looking Forward

Challenge #00071: Power Struggle

Challenge #00072: Strengths

Challenge #00073: Eldritch

Challenge #00074: Dingy, Dire, Depressing

Challenge #00075: Ch-ch-ch-changes...

Challenge #00076: Whoa! Sorry, it usually doesn't do that...

Challenge #00077: Lactose Tolerance

Challenge #00078: One Fine Day in Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters

Challenge #00079: Just a Chocolate Bunny

Challenge #00080: One Fine Day in the Seasonal Candy Store

Challenge #00081: White W(h)ine

Challenge #00082: The Green-Eyed Monster

Challenge #00083: Graduation

Challenge #00084: The Muse Woos

Challenge #00085: By the Book

Challenge #00086: Dance!

Challenge #00087: They Fight Crime

Challenge #00088: The Ninth Step

Challenge #00089: My Apologies for the Pun

Challenge #00090: Happens Stance

Challenge #00091: The Inherent Perils of Silly Season

Challenge #00092: Faith in Humanity...

Challenge #00093: Um... Whoops

Challenge #00094: Pax Adriens

Challenge #00095: Long Green

Challenge #00096: Pretence

Challenge #00097: Glee?

Challenge #00098: Well, That's Unusual...

Challenge #00099: Time Cop's Dilemma.

Challenge #00100: Sapient's Rights

Challenge #00101: Clean Energy

Challenge #00102: Star Trekking Across the Universe...

Challenge #00103: Rich Fantasy Lives

Challenge #00104: ...And I feel fine.

Challenge #00105: Wake Up Call

Challenge #00106: One Fine Day in the Xavier Mansion's Sub-Sub-Basements

Challenge #00107: Patience

Challenge #00108: Imperial China... Dragons?

Challenge #00109: Stole This From a Book

Challenge #00110: One Fine Day in the Computer Lab

Challenge #00111: One Fine Day in a Ren Faire near Bayville

Challenge #00112: Science Project

Challenge #00113: Ohai We're From the Internet

Challenge #00114: One Fine Day in the Cubicle Labyrinth

Challenge #00115: Faction Fraction

Challenge #00116: A Line For Sara

Challenge #00117: A Scene in the Library

Challenge #00118: One Fine Day on a Planet That Looks a Lot Like a Quarry Somewhere in England

Challenge #00119: Letter v Spirit

Challenge #00120: Impressions

Challenge #00121: And That's Why a Platypus.

Challenge #00122: Beside Myself.

Challenge #00123: Strategy and the Zen of Faking it

Challenge #00124: A New Take on an Old Classic.

Challenge #00125: Philip K. Dick Said it Best:

Challenge #00126: Be Interested to See What You do With This One:

Challenge #00127: One Fine Day in the Diplomatic Offices

Challenge #00128: A Blessing? Or a Curse?

Challenge #00129: I'm Impressed

Challenge #00130: Why Would You Do This to Me?

Challenge #00131: Conversations on the Twilight Zone

Challenge #00132: Once Upon a Nightmare

Challenge #00133: Creep

Challenge #00134: Ding, Dong, Is The Witch Really Dead?

Challenge #00135: Ethical Heroism

Challenge #00136: Monster in My House

Challenge #00137: One Fine Day in a Play Park

Challenge #00138: Wrong Call

Challenge #00139: Offerings of Embarrassment

Challenge #00140: Just Like Her Father

Challenge #00141: Elves Don't Live Forever.

Challenge #00142: Failure Fret

Challenge #00143: But Not My Hero

Challenge #00144: FicWar Prompt

Challenge #00145: Through Dangers Untold

Challenge #00146: One Fine Day in Transylvania Polygnostic....

Challenge #00147: Angst in Eyeliner

Challenge #00148: Discovery!

Challenge #00149: Mein Kinder

Challenge #00150: Bad Decisions

Challenge #00151: Never Let Them Have a Holodeck

Challenge #00152: Worse Decisions

Challenge #00153: Unlikely Tales From the X-Mansion

Challenge #00154: Payback, the Bitch

Challenge #00155: One Stormy Evening at Genracon

Challenge #00156: Really Bad Decisions

Challenge #00157: Young Knights and Old Soldiers

Challenge #00158: Foiled Again

Challenge #00159: By the Power of Capsaicin…

Challenge #00160: In Just Seven Days…

Challenge #00161: And Never No More, I'll Go Sailing

Challenge #00162: Roll Up

Challenge #00163: From Zero to Disaster

Challenge #00164: Spark Roast Coffee

Challenge #00165: Creative Problem Resolution

Challenge #00166: Off With the Show

Challenge #00167: Clothes Maketh the…?

Challenge #00168: Love and Apologies to Mr Watterson

Challenge #00169: Typical Table Talk

Challenge #00170: What You Wanted

Challenge #00171: I'm'unna Do It

Challenge #00172: The Dangerous Onkel Wolf

Challenge #00173: Lost and Finding

Challenge #00174: Don't Bottle Things up - Bottles Can Break so Easily.

Challenge #00175: Ideosyncratic Biology

Challenge #00176: One Fine Afternoon in the Halls of Higher Education

Challenge #00177: Taken From a Conversation

Challenge #00178: Foreign Cuisine

Challenge #00179: One Fine Afternoon in Downtown Bayville

Challenge #00180: Biggest Fans

Challenge #00181: Paraphrasing Zaphod Beeblebrox....

Challenge #00182: Live to Therve

Challenge #00183: An Affront Taken Aback.

Challenge #00184: Paraphrasing Zaphod Beeblebrox, pt. 2

Challenge #00185: A Rather Hairy Dilemma.

Challenge #00186: One Alarming Afternoon in Stark Tower

Challenge #00187: A New Drop Bear-like Story.

Challenge #00188: Somewhere, over....

Challenge #00189: Those Who Harm

Challenge #00190: Time Out From That Good Fight

Challenge #00191: One Tempestuous Evening at Club Haxx

Challenge #00192: Apt Curse

Challenge #00193: #1

Challenge #00194: #2

Challenge #00195: #3

Challenge #00196: Awareness of Food

Challenge #00197: Impossible Aftermath

Challenge #00198: Miss Tiggy

Challenge #00199: Beat the Beat

Challenge #00200: Non-Hostile Takeover

Challenge #00201: Monster!

Challenge #00202: Everyday Miracles

Challenge #00203: Spiritus in Machina

Challenge #00204: You're in Good Hands With Mawlitt-Badlii

Challenge #00205: A Kiss of Home

Challenge #00206: Haunted

Challenge #00207: Whoops, Banned Again

Challenge #00208: Through Dragon's Eyes

Challenge #00209: Letter and Spirit of the Law

Challenge #00210: What All Girls Should Know

Challenge #00211: Un-Powered

Challenge #00212: Creative Outlet

Challenge #00213: Réve-olutionary

Challenge #00214: Now, That Makes...Sense.

Challenge #00215: Dining with... Omnivores.

Challenge #00216: Prepared.

Challenge #00217: Emotional... Promotion

Challenge #00218: Typhoon

Challenge #00219: More of Danny's World!

Challenge #00220: Icky-what?

Challenge #00221: How Super Are We All, Really?

Challenge #00222: Goodbye, Good Boy

Challenge #00223: Drained

Challenge #00224: Tempus Flakkit

Challenge #00225: Relics

Challenge #00226: More of Danny's World!(2)

Challenge #00227: Wedding Jitters

Challenge #00228: Tea and Scales

Challenge #00229: It's not easy being us...

Challenge #00230: Wonderlust

Challenge #00231: On the Disposal of Sex Aids

Challenge #00232: Ancient Terran Tradition

Challenge #00233: The Morning Show With Patty

Challenge #00234: Aftereffects of Tequila

Challenge #00235: We're Mostly Harmless, I Swear!

Challenge #00236: A Lake Appeared in Winsome Valley

Challenge #00237: Tenpool Lottery

Challenge #00238: Intricate Details

Challenge #00239: Dealing With Fridge Thieves

Challenge #00240: Weighty Problems

Challenge #00241: Pressed Seconds

Challenge #00242: Stop, in the Name of Cheesecake!

Challenge #00243: Elemental, My Dear...

Challenge #00244: Didn't We Already Fix That?!

Challenge #00245: Household Gods

Challenge #00246: One Fine Afternoon Just Outside the Danger Room

Challenge #00247: One Beautiful Morning at the Bi-Annual Fair

Challenge #00248: Learning Curve

Challenge #00249: Meter and Rhyme

Challenge #00250: Craftsmanship

Challenge #00251: More Deadlier...

Challenge #00252: What Monsters Hath Science Wrought?

Challenge #00253: Birds of a Feather

Challenge #00254: Terror Watch

Challenge #00255: Be Careful What You Wish For

Challenge #00256: I'm Sorry, We Can't Help You

Challenge #00257: Honey, and Plenty of Money

Challenge #00258: The Wall and the Hypocri-sea.

Challenge #00259: Why We Won't Stop Fighting For Our Right To Purity

Challenge #00260: What a Wonderful World

Challenge #00261: Meeting as Equals

Challenge #00262: Well, Sweetie...

Challenge #00263: Bubbles in History

Challenge #00264: Foiled Again

Challenge #00265: One Fine Afternoon at the Student Labs of Transylvania Polygnostic University

Challenge #00266: Moebius Repair

Challenge #00267: Getting (Gender)Bent

Challenge #00268: Pour Encourager Les Autres.

Challenge #00269: Non-Hostile Takeover(2)

Challenge #00270: Learning the Ropes

Challenge #00271: No, bad dog!

Challenge #00272: Vamping it Up

Challenge #00273: Heroic

Challenge #00274: Rule 9 for Life

Challenge #00275: So sharp...

Challenge #00276: Mundane Utility: The Sequel

Challenge #00277: Anomalous Behaviour

Challenge #00278: On the Folly of Tailored Worlds

Challenge #00279: Peck of Dust, Dust, Dust...

Challenge #00280: Awwwww!!!

Challenge #00281: Den of Iniquity

Challenge #00282: Welcome Walter's Metal Men

Challenge #00283: See where this bit of commenting takes you...

Challenge #00284: One Overcast Evening in the Middle of an Apocalypse

Challenge #00285: The Kindness of Strangers

Challenge #00286: You Overhear the Strangest Things From Public-Phone Conversations Sometimes...

Challenge #00287: All Things Ridiculous and Human

Challenge #00288: Since I Know You Got Started Writing DS9 Stuff...

Challenge #00289: For When Holy Water Just Won't Do...

Challenge #00290: How I Have Felt, on Occasion.

Challenge #00291: Because Science is Amazing.

Challenge #00292: Failure Modes

Challenge #00293: A Line From Pacific Rim.

Challenge #00294: Sound advice.

Challenge #00295: Another Corollary to Clarke's Third Law

Challenge #00296: A Corollary to Clarke's Third Law

Challenge #00297: Yet _Another_ Corollary.

Challenge #00298: The Whole Set

Challenge #00299: Found This Somewhere.

Challenge #00300: Death and Ding-Dong Ditchers

Challenge #00301: So, How're Those Plotbunnies Coming Along?

Challenge #00302: In Response to a Sight.

Challenge #00303: Weapons-grade Vocabulary.

Challenge #00304: Proooobably a Mad Scientist, Rather Than the Regular Kind

Challenge #00305: Something I found difficult to type.

Challenge #00306: It's Not Called That Anymore.

Challenge #00307: The First AI Gains Sentience.

Challenge #00308: Extinction is Such a Cheery Thought, Isn't it?

Challenge #00309: Seen on a Gravestone.

Challenge #00310: Also on a Gravestone.

Challenge #00311: The Body Language Gap

Challenge #00312: One Other Clarke's Third Law Thing.

Challenge #00313: One Good Turn Deserves Another - a Good Samaritan Winds up With Superpowers as a Result.

Challenge #00314: Pay Attention

Challenge #00315: Immovable Object

Challenge #00316: Ekkritism

Challenge #00317: Downhill From There

Challenge #00318: Sing-along

Challenge #00319: Common Band

Challenge #00320: Some Questions Should Remain Unspoken.

Challenge #00321: In Memorium

Challenge #00322: Homo S. Cuisine

Challenge #00323: Cupcakes! Cupcakes! Cupcakes!

Challenge #00324: Amphibious

Challenge #00325: But is it Art?

Challenge #00326: Those Pesky Living Authors

Challenge #00327: The Unnypical

Challenge #00328: A Gru-some Predicament

Challenge #00329: ...and Wherefores

Challenge #00330: Old Wars, New Combatants

Challenge #00331: Fool Me Twice

Challenge #00332: Unexpectedly Useful

Challenge #00333: Wark

Challenge #00334: Look at This Photograph...

Challenge #00335: The first Christmas in Space

Challenge #00336: To Be a F.A.I.R.Y

Challenge #00337: Vulnerable

Challenge #00338: The Real Reason Why You Don't Cross Your Own Time Stream

Challenge #00339: The Return of Wark

Challenge #00340: The Thin Man

Challenge #00341: Send Me an Angel

Challenge #00342: Accomplished Only While Drunk

Challenge #00343: Wild Goose Chase

Challenge #00344: Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence

Challenge #00345: Legal Consult

Challenge #00346: Didn't This Happen On Star Trek?

Challenge #00347: The Perpetual Talk

Challenge #00348: Aviasaur

Challenge #00349: Australian Things

Challenge #00350: Found This in Another 'Fic.

Challenge #00351: Seen in Another Fic (Take Two)

Challenge #00352: The Case For Doing Your Homework

Challenge #00353: Three People on Tumblr

Challenge #00354: Tell Me How to Get... How to Get to...

Challenge #00355: Designated Victim

Challenge #00356: Average Ordinary Every-Day...

Challenge #00357: New Take on an Old Saw.

Challenge #00358: O...MG Tannenbaum

Challenge #00359: Shining, Gleaming, Silken, Flaxen, Waxen...

Challenge #00360: Everything Proof Shield

Challenge #00361: Stupid Mammals.

Challenge #00362: Fun With (Decidedly Non-Standard) Units

Challenge #00363: [Citation Needed]

Challenge #00364: Stolen From a Webcomic

Challenge #00365: Post Failed Alien Invasion

Congratulations!

About the Author

Forewarning

In 2013, I figured that my writing was going nowhere and I needed to exercise my muse. The best way to keep this as a regular thing was to get prompts from my readers and make fiction from whatever they sent me.

However, it wasn't until the fourteenth of January that I started limiting myself to one story a day. Doing them as they came was demanding and left me little time for working on anything else. Writing one story a day, every day (except Christmas) was a brilliant way to keep my creative juices flowing. Even a day job couldn't stop me from perpetuating fiction on the masses.

And it helped me write my novels as well. Investing a slice of every morning into writing made sure the creative well never ran dry on my novel work in the afternoons.

As an extra, added bonus, writing a story a day has generated readers of my blog, who incidentally get a daily reminder to check out my other works via Smashwords.

There are stories in here that will make you cry.

There are stories in here that will make you cringe.

There are LOTS of stories in here that will make you wonder what drugs I take. All without the other inanity that crops up in my blog pretty much always from time to time.

If you paid for this: thank you! If you didn't pay for this and later regret that choice, buy a copy for a friend! Share and enjoy,

C M Weller.

Not on any drugs at all. Really.

Return to the Table of Contents

Challenge #00001: Sara with a Manual while on Ordeal

geekhyena answered: Have you read Diane Duane's work? If so, Sara with a Manual while on Ordeal.

[AN: I am not remotely familiar with Duane. I should pick her up, one of these days. Nevertheless, I shall attempt this with my own reality(s).

Fiction ho!]

Manual Ordeal

So… Hank drawled. A few questions…

Do keep them brief. Sara turned a page, frowning. It was written in two languages by someone who barely understood either of them. Using it as a rosetta stone to decipher what was left of the controls was, if not an exercise in futility, at least something to stop her going mad with boredom. I am trying to concentrate.

How long has this been happening?

Subjectively, on and off for five years. By events, two days total. Blame Forge.

Hank shrugged. That answers my second question. Third: Where are we?

I don't recognize the universe, but it appears to be a derelict space ship. We're lucky we have power and air.

How long does this last?

I must be touching everything I was touching when we went in the first place. And you had to go juggling with my hairpin.

I was merely—

Trying an untested skill you'd only observed in recordings with inappropriate tools on an unfamiliar device. And you dropped it. Down a grille.

Do you have a magnet?

In my other pants. Currently inconveniently located in another dimension.

Chewing gum?

Other pants.

Anyth—

Other. Pants.

Perhaps I could—?

Don't. Touch. Anything.

Hank sighed. I get bored, too.

Fabulous. Help be unravel this console. But don't touch anything.

Return to the Table of Contents

Challenge #00002: Toad V Spiderman

Toad (either Evo or movieverse) meets Spiderman. Hilarity and quipping ensue?

I can not decide which Toad to use.

Round 1: Evo-Toad V Spiderman

Where you goin', lady? Don'chu know this street ain't public property?

Ah, the catch-cry of the lesser soon-to-be-very-bruised looser. Peter swung in, landing on a nearby roof and hustled down a handy wall.

Three punks in similar bargain-basement street gang wear were moving in on a rather elongated lady burdened with shopping.

The city planning department might disagree with you, said the lady.

Damn, that's a tall-ass bitch, said thug#1.

Need a stepladder to teach her manners, said thug#2.

Need a stepladder jus' ta fuck her, cackled thug #3.

And then a voice right by his ear whispered, The fuck you doin', fool? Yo' gonna ruin our sting.

Peter looked to his right, where a fourth tatty youth hung on the wall much like himself. I've heard of hanging around the streets, but this is extreme.

The teen glared at him, his too-wide mouth twisting in a voluminous expression of distaste. Mouth like dat, 's a wonder those tights ain't black an' blue, yo.

Hey, at least I have some style!

As in, goin' outta style?

This way nobody knows who I am.

Psh. An' nobody cares…

The lady down in the street said, Gentlemen…

Both boys looked down. The lady had the three thugs neatly hog-tied and moaning in discomfort. I appreciate the extra back-up, dear; but I think I'd prefer it better if said backup was focussed on our task?

The tatty teen's toothy rictus was possibly wider than his mouth. Um. Whoops? Sorry, Sara.

Peter sighed. He was nobody's favorite neighbourhood spiderman, tonight.

Round 2: Movie-Toad V Spiderman

The man currently making his slow progress down the alley was being boxed in by four denizens - and this neighbourhood crawled with denizens - who had rightfully singled him out as easy pickings.

Little did they know that this poor fellow was under the prodigious protection of Peter Parker, the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman!

The limping, shambling man evidently figured out he was being boxed in and stopped in a relatively clear area of the alleyway.

You lot fuck off, he growled. I've already had a bad fuckin' day.

The four toughs came out of concealment and moved in, laughing. Grinning like crocodiles.

Bout t' get worse, said the spokesthug.

Just as Peter leaped to the rescue, the shambling man exploded. Both arms and one leg lashed out at three of the thugs, knocking them away. And, in the case of the guy who got the walking stick, delivering internal injuries on the side.

Peter aimed himself at the fourth man, but the erstwhile victim had plans for him, too. The injured man spat something at the fourth fellow's face.

It hardened just as Peter's flying foot connected with it.

Peter managed to land with his dignity intact, and his foot stuck to a felon's face. What the hell?

The fuck d'you think you are? demanded the injured man.

Even in the half-light, Peter could see he was in a bad way. Bleeding. Burned. Wet and filthy. Like he'd been beaten, struck by lightning and left to drown in the bay. Just your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman trying to make a difference, He shook his foot. It was stuck solidly to the man's temple. Is there a solvent for this stuff?

Dunno, said the injured man as he continued on his way.

Round 3: WATXM-Toad V Spiderman

Toad was many things, but he was not the sort of sick psycho who would abandon his gang.

Even when his gang abandoned him.

He kept away from public places. After a debacle like that one, he didn't need another mutant-inspired riot on his ass. Not after barely escaping with his life.

The Brotherhood had left him to fend for himself, as they frequently did, after getting themselves the heck out of dodge. Toad was used to this. He went through hay, hell and high water to find his gang again and they always accused him of turning up like a stray cat.

It was enough to make a fellow feel… unwanted.

Well, lookie what we have here, cooed a street tough.

Well, crap. On top of everything else, he had to wander down Yancy Street in a moment of inattention.

Aw, it's a little lost mutie, said tough#2.

Where you goin', mutie? said tough #3.

Things were not looking good for Mrs Toynbee's only son.

He's going over the meadow and through the woods, said a voice from above. Isn't that the way to Grandmother's house?

To a man, they all looked up.

Dangling upside-down on a cord with no visible means of support, was a teenager in a full-body stocking. Red and blue. Patterned with webs and a spider.

Fucking vigilantes. You never knew whose side they were on.

Sod off, said Toad. I got this.

It's four against one, objected the vigilante.

Yeh, admitted Toad. 'S what nearly makes it fair.

Bonus Round: Dresden-Codak-Toad V Spiderman

[This incarnation of Toad belongs to Dresden Codak artist, Aaron Diaz. I apologize in advance for any wrong I bestow upon him by messing with his characters and world]

Witness the paragon of perfection, Peter Parker, pounding punks prodigiously! Just another day at work for your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman!

This one went a little differently when he went to assist the victim. A huddling figure tying itself -himself- into knots trying to hide himself from the entire world.

Hey, it's okay, now. Badguys are all gone.

The figure huddled tighter.

Peter made sure the thugs were safely trussed up for the police before he knelt by the huddling man.

It's okay. I don't bite. He dare not touch someone so afraid. For all he knew, this guy had a whole newsstand's worth of issues. I'm… I'm a hero.

Rustling from inside the trench coat, and a slip of paper emerged.

It read, Heroes kill monsters.

Monsters? What the hell?

Hey. No. I don't kill anyone. And I don't go after anyone who's obeying the law. Okay?

The figure gradually untangled. Long, skinny arms. Equally long, skinny legs. What Peter had thought was some kind of green hood was the man's head.

Either he was a mutant or Peter had tripped over some really amusing drugs.

You're a frog?

Those wide, green eyes had an ocean of sorrow and pity for him as the froggy man picked up his belongings and hurried away. As if the frog-man understood something deeper that he could not, or would not communicate to Peter.

He spent years wondering what the hell he was missing out on, because of that look.

Return to the Table of Contents

Challenge #00003: One Fine Evening in a Villainous Pit-trap

Wombats. Why is it always wombats?

geekhyena

Ax'and'l stared at the brown furry hills with legs. They were everywhere. These are wombats. He did not understand his human companion's fear. They weren't doing anything much at all.

Yes!

And we've known each other for… ten years?

Yes! Hwell was still trying to climb the walls.

Then for ten years it hasn't been always wombats. Ax'and'l scanned them. And they're herbivores!

One of them was sniffing Hwell's lowest foot. The human whimpered and attempted to climb higher on a sheer vertical surface.

What could possibly be threatening about an enclosure full of herbivores?

Plant. Fibre. Clothing.

One of them was gnawing on Ax'and'l's trousers. Are we certain that there's no other means of egress?

SHUT UP AND BOOST ME OUTTA HERE!

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Challenge #00004: They Fight Crime

Romance springs up between the newbie medical examiner and the girl who runs a crime scene cleanup company (female/female pairing)

First crime scene. Ever. Nobody else had to know this. Just walk like you own the place. Act like you belong. Check out the corpse, note any significant details and toddle on back to the office. No big deal.

Alice thusly walked with confidence until she encountered the first thing nobody told her.

Death has a smell.

The bodies in anatomy and dissection classes were sanitised. They had the subtle odour of death, because nobody can really stop it. This was a full on reek, with all the nastiness associated with subsequent decay and noisome fluids.

It was so horrible that it almost qualified as toxic.

Alice swallowed her rising gorge, mentally running through the gamut of things to do when one doesn't want to be seen throwing up in front of one's co-workers.

First day?

Her blush struggled with the fact that all her blood was rushing to her digestive system. …'es…

Try this. A white-gloved hand offered a pot of what appeared to be vaseline, but held a different odour entirely. One from Alice's own childhood.

Vick's Vaporub?

Stick a little under your nose. Overwhelms the senses. The speaker offering the pot was short and entirely shrouded in what Alice thought of as street-available hazmat gear. White overalls with an elastic hood. Rubber boots and latex gloves. Industrial filter mask. Safety goggles.

Is the scene hazardous? Alice took a small glob and discretely applied it.

No, this is my work uniform. Cordelia Knight. Forensic cleaning services.

Alice Daye. Medical Examiner. I thought you guys turned up… after.

There's a first time for everything, said Ms Knight. My client hired me to clean and refurbish a place he'd inherited. Unfortunately, he hadn't inspected it first. The former occupant was still there.

Alice put on her own mask, gloves and booties, whipping her hair into the net she carried for the purpose. The less of herself that got into a scene, the better. You're already dressed for the occasion, Ms Knight. Would you walk me through your… procedures?

The eyes underneath the safety goggles smiled. Alex followed her on the tour. We document everything in my line of work. I already gave Lieutenant Bothari my camera. Every photo is time and date stamped. As you can see, I thought this was just another hoarder's cave.

One side of the room was literally stacked floor to ceiling with periodicals. Newspapers and magazines. Sorted by issue title. The other half was noticeably bare, the furniture pushed neatly into one corner, and a sad array of garbage bags lined up by the inside door. Discolouration on the carpet clearly indicated where each piece had been prior to Knight's work.

We're not obligated to report dead animals, said Knight. I found the blood trail and investigated, just in case, and found the bodies in the upstairs bedroom.

Alice followed the yellow plastic markers, noting the medium-velocity spatter as she passed, careful not to tread on any of it, or upset the unstable-looking piles of random miscellany that lined every passage, leaving just enough space for one human to pass.

One path lead to the bathroom, upstairs, and the other lead to the bedroom. Neither were free from towers of packrattus. Alice took her recorder out and began dictating details.

Two decedents, apparently one male, one female. Male in kneeling position at foot of bed, female spreadeagled on the bed. Alice edged closer until she was on the very borderlines. Both bodies show signs of advanced decomp, insect and rodent activity… pistol located near female's right hand… and cause of death looks to be stabbing. I can see at least five wounds, three defensive. She tried to move the male's body. Male has a knife in his lap. No immediately evident trauma, large red-brown stain under the posterior… tear in the crotch of the pants?

He stabbed her and she shot him in the nuts, said Knight. Who says romance is dead?

I can't make calls like that until after a thorough forensic examination, said Alice. She gingerly searched the pockets on the male. No ID. Judging by the absence of shoes on both of them, they lived here. I'd say document, bag and tag… These two can come to the office.

Knight started backing out of the labyrinth of collection. I know this is probably the wrong time to ask, but… do you want to go get a coffee or something while your minions deal with this mess? I had a whole week booked on this place, and now… an expressive shrug.

Alice thought about this as she picked her way back to uncluttered air and the outside world. God, it was good to swing her elbows again. Coffee sounds lovely.

Then Cordelia took her headgear off, and Alice knew her heart would never be her own again. Skin like dark chocolate. Lips full and delectable. Effortless hair sculpted to perfection in a style both practical and elegant.

The blush returned and Alice didn't care. Very lovely indeed.

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Challenge #00005: When You Meet a Stranger

In a sushi bar, with an alien, while on a blind date

geekhyena

I don't know why I agreed to this, grumbled Rael.

It's all ye can eat sushi, what's not t' love? Shayde primped, using her reflection in the sneeze guard as a mirror. Is he here yet? Can you see him?

Nobody is wearing any variety of dead foliage.

Pink carnation. It's a flower. Flowers are prettier. Shayde evidently gave up on getting her flyaway hair to behave itself and started attacking her clothes. Ye sure I look all righ'?

Rael sighed. If it wasn't for the free food… You are currently aesthetically pleasing in all respects. Your body is clear evidence of physical fitness and the perfect shape to suit you.

You say the nicest things, Shayde deadpanned.

Oh dear, Rael pointed.

The cogniscent entering the bar was wearing all fourteen items currently identified in the Galactic Standard Dictionary as a 'carnation'. All of them were pink. None of them were a flower.

At least she's enthusiastic, offered Rael.

Aw, puir darlin', whimpered Shayde, whose accent always got worse when she was flustered. How do I break it to her I'm cishet?

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Challenge #00006: Be Were

Not all weres turn into mammals.

geekhyena

I'm dangerous, said Claire. You shouldn't be around me.

I don't care, Tracy sobbed. I love you and you can't send me away.

At least keep your distance. I can't control what I do under the full moon. Please, Tracy.

Tracy did not want to let go. Why? What happens during a full moon?

Claire pushed her away. Too late. Run. Get away. Her body was already warping. Changing. Growing…

Scalier?

Tracy stopped at the doorway, looking back as Claire warped and transformed into…

A giant Iguana? But I love iguanas!

Iguana-Claire made a sort of 'Gronk' noise and started creating a nest out of her former clothes.

Oh right. Claire the fashion-proud. For her, this would be a horror.

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Challenge #00007: Baaa-d Science

A mad scientist, a minion, and fire-breathing sheep.

geekhyena

IT'S ALIVE! IT'S ALIVE!

Yes, master. Igor had always agreed that being agreeable lead to a longer life. Broaching the niggling little problem in a delicate way was going to be… problematic at best.

Go, my beautiful creation! Go and create marvellous havoc on those unsuspecting rubes!

The creature lurched off the slab, belched fire, and said, Baaa?

Of all the mad geniuses to sign up with, he had to pick the one who came from a family of shepherds.

Master?

Yes, Igor?

I think you may have locked the door, master.

What of it?

The only door in and out of this lab, master…

I'm well aware.

The one… on the other side of the room, master.

With a freshly woken man-eating ungulate (fire-breathing) between themselves and safety.

Baaa?

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Challenge #00008: Uncareful Wish

Being able to talk to animals isn't as great a gift as you'd think.

geekhyena

Presented here for your education, a man who should have been aware of the axiom, Be careful what you wish for. John neglected to think first and wish later, and now he is destined to live the rest of his life… in the Twilight Zone.

John staggers down the street. It would be hard for the casual observer to guess that he had once been a doctor. Or even a man of high class. His eyes are ringed with the stigmata of sleeplessness. He mutters, seemingly to himself.

His most common disjointed phrase is, You're welcome. It is oft-times sarcastic. His second most common phrase is, excuse yourself.

When asked who he is talking to, he stares at the questioner in puzzlement before asking in turn, Can't you hear the fleas?

He is a walking wreck of a man, barely able to keep himself fed.

Strays follow him everywhere. He is very good at mumping food from every street vendor, restaurant and halfway house in London. But he, himself, is starving.

His friends, the mange-ridden, flea farms of London are all hungry. He can not ignore their cries.

All he wanted to do was talk to the animals.

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Challenge #00009: The Perils of Channel-Surfing

Watching an alien home shopping channel, while drunk, and ordering some very interesting things (bonus: the aftermath of said shopping spree)

geekhyena

Hwell Barrow, bored and forbidden from talking to anyone outside of the hostel in person, was channel surfing the local entertainment feeds. At least Ax'and'l had forgotten about requesting an absence of mini-bar, thus lending an element of entertainment to his otherwise dull evening.

That green stuff. It really packed a whallop.

He didn't understand a word they were saying. But that didn't stop him making up stories as he watched. Two green things with violently vibrant plumage were whistling the advantages of something colourful and apparently bendy.

Maybe it was a cooking apparatus? The stuff they were smearing on it looked kinda yummy….

Mmmm… cheese waffles…

After twenty minutes, the violently vibrant hosts still hadn't shut up about it, leaving Hwell plenty of time to divine which series of symbols was the comms number, and then how to call them up on their awkward comms system.

It took him three goes to get someone who spoke Standard.

Them things they're hootin' 'bout onna screen. I wanna buttload of 'em. How much izzit?

*

Ax'and'l glared at the grinning human. The redness in the mammal's face was a display of mortification. Reflex.

What. The. Flakk. He sighed again at the pile of packaging. I made sure you were locked in the hostel room. How did you get into this much debt?

Hwell winced. Evidently, things were too loud. I was… watchin' th' local feeds? An' then I found the green stuff… An' after that it's all a blur…

Ax'and'l felt some of Hwell's hangover by osmosis. Do you even know what you bought?

Uh. Cheese waffle makers?

Ax'and'l felt his own reflex mortification reaction rising against his will. They're not for preparing food, he said. They're… sex… aids…

They don't have to always be that… do they? whimpered Hwell.

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Challenge #00010: Obligatory Gender Bender

Genderswap Todd & Sara?

geekhyena

On the plus side, that outfit looks better.

Sara continued to glare daggers at Forge. She -currently 'he', if only physically- did look trim and toned in what could only be described as an olive-khaki swimsuit without the shoulder straps.

Todd did not look any better as a girl, either. His/her uniform was not flattering on either gender. Dayumn, this does make my ass look big…

It shouldn't matter for much longer, Iced Sara. Should it, Mister Walkingbird? The 'Mister Walkingbird' was a warning signal. If things went on too long, then the dreaded full name might just emerge.

Sara found out things like this.

I'm still looking for my notes! I think I might have messed this up on the chromosomal level.

What was yo' first hint? growled Toad. S/He had emerged from the transporter as a DD cup. And with no bra. He was having a very painful time with both arms crossed underneath his new bosom.

Do you want me to fix this or not? Forge demanded.

Sara fumed. I could help you find your notes… All this space needs is a little… organisation…

Sara wanting to organise things was almost as terrifying as her using his full name. Okay, okay, okay! I'm moving, I'm moving!

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Challenge #00011: To Catch a Geek

Evoverse or Flotsamverse: The X-Men go to a con, in cosplay or out (Kurt keeps getting compliments on his costume regardless). Geeking out and crime-fighting ensue.

geekhyena

He's gone to ground in something called jen-ra-con, The Professor frowned. Either I'm getting a lot of static or… something is wrong. Nobody there looked at all human.

Sara glared at him. You're kidding me. This high a concentration of freaks and weirdos and none of you has heard of Genracon? The biggest month-long geek-out known to fandomkind?

I heard of it, said Kurt.

Trek, who, scape, wars or five? challenged Sara.

I understood each of those words, said Hank, but together they make no sense at all.

They're speaking in tongues, whispered Kitty. It like, makes sense to them.

All of the above, some FF, and a britcom called Red Dwarf, answered Kurt.

Sara grinned. Got a costume?

Mind OC's? Because this body generally gets typecast…

I could probably turn you into a cursed elfin mage with half of my culch…

Babe, you could turn *everyone* into somepin' with yo'r culch, said Todd.

Challenge accepted. Sara grinned and cracked her knuckles.

…uh oh…

*

I can not believe we're doing this, said Jean. She was wearing the two-part Next-generation costume. A series she at least recognized and could pass most of the general knowledge questions. Her brief was to play the ditzy first-timer to the hilt.

Sara is… very persuasive. He was currently a klingon. He didn't know what to say to her comments that he 'had the wrong body type for Davros'.

I do have to say her costume choices for us are… skewed, noted Ororo. She wore a regal satin dress that had been augmented with occult-looking jewelry and a cloak. The staff she carried with her had some interesting augmentation as well.

I'd say it has something to do with revenge on male-centric costuming choices in general and using us as placards. He had a ratty-looking loincloth and a fang necklace with similarly-decorated ugg boots. Everything else was bare.

At least y'all know who you are. Ah dunno if I'm Morticia or Elvira…

Given those nails? said Hank, I'd posit you were Vampira, of Plan Nine fame.

…who from whut?

…oy…

At least I can wear mine on the street, said Scott. He came off as a rather weedy Terminator.

Apparently we're going on the street like this anyway. Part of an activity called 'freaking the mundanes'… said Hank.

The elevator opened, revealing Kurt in piratical getup. Sara changed her mind. There's already a mage in the party and this is more… 'me'.

Those had better be nerf swords…

…'estheyare…

Kitty, in a different Starfleet uniform and an interesting bun, asked, How do I look and like, who's Captain Janeway?

Another elevator pinged, allowing a tall figure in a concealing cloak to emerge.

Other con-goers, for some reason, hushed and readied their cameras.

The cloak swept of in one dramatic shove, revealing Sara, clad only in a few lengths of diaphanous drapery, an ornate headdress and apparently a small ton of jewellery.

I AM THE LIZARD QUEEN!

Todd emerged in cardboard armour, brandishing a redecorated super-soaker. Show obeisance to her majesty!

Hoots, cheers, and a sparkle of flashes.

What? said Jean.

You should know by now that Sara is a master of obscure cinema. And getting ice-cold revenge.

Indeed. Sara and her loyal guardsman were the centre of attention. Jean was just another redshirt in the crowd.

Below zero kelvin, Jean murmured.

*

Can we take your photo?

Can I give you a hug?

Love the tail…

Kurt grinned. Ladies, he threw his arms wide, you can even kiss me. Aw yeah. Chicks dig the fuzzy dude.

*

Yo. So… what're we doin'?

Aside from checking out the merch? We're the obvious distraction. Kitty and Jean are the covert team. They'll find our mutant miscreant and safely knock him out.

…and then?

And then I'm going to hassle John Barrowman and his kissing booth.

Giving him improv, I hope.

Improv… and with your permission, a squeeze on his ass.

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Challenge #00012: Date Night

Mort and Sara get to go on a proper date.

geekhyena

Much had changed. Mort was still shocked at most of it. All of it could be traced back to Sara. Sara, no longer plain but still tall. She'd grown two inches by slow degrees and every last atom from top to toe was pure delight. He had a name for every colour of every aqua-to-lapis scale/chromatophore on her delightful skin.

He had changed, too. He no longer hunkered in shadows. He spoke up when he felt wronged. He bathed regularly, thanks to Sara's miracle concoction of a soapless soap. He dressed better, thanks to Sara's tailoring skills and part-time hobby in design.

Thanks to Sara, he no longer had absolute faith in his own stupidity. He'd learned enough to overcome his fears of failure. He was a teacher. Working on a college degree.

And about to go on a date. One he paid for. With wages he earned. At his job.

All things that were not possible without her.

He adjusted the bow tie for the fiftieth time in his reflection in the foyer mirror. Making sure he was suitably dapper for the occasion. Opera Populaire and fine dining at Chez Ritzi.

His name for it. It still took half an hour of coaching to get him to pronounce the place, but it offered the best of all possible worlds. Food as art. Plenty enough for both their metabolisms. No alcohol. Something new for Sara to experience. And, most important to Mortimer, something she truly deserved.

Time was ticking closer. He'd already peed and almost thrown up more times than he could count. His heart was hammering in his chest from old fears and PTSD inspired horror-shows in the back of his mind.

He adjusted the tilt of his top hat for the empty-billionth time.

Stop it, you're perfect.

Mortimer turned and gaped. Sara.

Only his inner eye supplied a halo. She wore basic black. Culottes and a fitted top halfway between Victorian chic and hippie chick. When she moved, gracefully descending like a supermodel, it contained a galaxy. The cloak and muff, currently dangling like a clutch purse in one aqua hand, only accentuated her style. Both a deep vermillion velvet. The white faux-fur trim on the cloak only made everything else pop.

…hglblf'x… he burbled happily. Inside, his secret self was imitating Fred Estaire and singing like Michael Bublé. She came, she loves me, she's spending time with me! I'm worthy of her tiiiiiiime! And so on.

Thank you, Sara blushed. You're looking suitably asd'f'k'k'jargle, yourself.

Her hair, pretty much uncut since her exile from her home, two years and a hundred better experiences ago, was done up in something technically complicated and deceptively simple. The hair still loose from such elegant restraint fell in artful curls.

The only jewellery she wore was a pair of art-neuvaux earrings and the engagement ring he'd given her. It just made her sparkle more.

He offered his elbow. Milady, our carriage awaits.

It was an Eco-Limo. Just the right balance of style and responsibility. Just what she'd appreciate.

*

The maitre d' had evidently not been briefed about Chez Ritzi's two most generous supporters. Mortimer shared a Look with Sara.

It said, Let's leave the money 'till last, eh?

We respectfully submit that madame and m'seur would be… more comfortable in a private booth, repeated the maitre d'.

Sara pitched her voice to reach the cheap seats. Or comparatively-cheap-seats. Are you telling me you're refusing full service to people of colour?

Mortimer sprained something trying not to grin like the cheshire cat after finding the canary in the cream. He knew everyone was staring and put on his best Posh British Tones.

We paid for full service and we expect to receive what we paid for. Old chap.

Sara hid her face. Her shoulders were shaking. To the judging, watching clientele, it looked like she was crying. Only Mortimer would be able to tell she was stifling giggles.

Honestly, this sort of thing happened nine times out of ten, every time they went here.

Mortimer decided the maitre d' had shrunk half a foot. Are you going to admit you're overcharging based on the colour of our skin, serve us properly… or are we going to have a discussion with your manager?

A few high-pitched noises escaped her throat. Thankfully, none of them sounded gigglish.

Nothatwon'tbenecessary, rushed the maitre d'. Follow me madame et m'seur. I shall take you to your booked table.

Calmly, now, my love, said Mortimer, taking her elbow. It's all been sorted.

Sara spent the trip to their table desperately wiping the grin off her face.

Bubba-Jo was probably going to visit, which generally caused a stir because his fashion sense and grooming made him look like some unearthly combination of rastafarian beach bum and homeless hobo. His appearance in the public space of his own restaurant caused an inevitable fluster of hushed conversation because he looked like the exact opposite of someone who owned a place called Huattifoq.

Sara had told him that forgoing the new-hire breifing was a bad idea. Bubba-Jo did have to learn his lessons thoroughly and well.

Do you think he's salvageable, dear? Sara asked after she'd been seated.

I b'lieve he can learn. Bubba's gonna have t' get back on new hire duty.

*

…because I looove you sincerely…. Mommy dearest… Sara sang.

Nellie Brighton you ain't. Mortimer laughed. It was snowing and the limo was taking the long way home. Their arms were entwined and they both leaned on each other on a satisfied way.

It's taken me this long to learn how to sing in my own voice.

An' I love the Sara version to pieces, he said honestly. He sighed. Marry me?

I believe I already said 'yes' to that. And I also believe we're finally doing something about it. Tomorrow afternoon.

Tomorrow afternoon, when the light turned the grounds of Xavier academy into a winter wonderland. And when Kurt was free between classes to officiate a ceremony that managed to satisfy an atheist and a man who only worshiped his bride.

The only problem was stopping Bobby from going nuts with the decorations. And preventing Jacqui from becoming a bridezilla-by-proxy.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow!

Happy birthday for tomorrow, Babe.

See you at our little chapel.

Wouldn't miss it for anything.

They kissed all the way back home.

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Challenge #00013: Verdammt!

Kurt has laundry duty for the first time. Static cling problems ensue :3

Ororo should have known she was in trouble when she saw Kurt wandering the grounds with the laundry basket an obvious weight in his cerulean arms.

Is there a problem?

Ja! Where the washing line ist? I looked everywhere, und… nothing.

Washing line? You didn't see the dryer?

Uh. Dryers are expensive, ja? The sun and wind is free.

Ororo gave up, dropping her voice to a whisper. We don't have a washing line. Come on, I'll show you how the dryer works.

Kurt took so easily to modern technology that it was hard to remember he came from a tiny mountain town that still had cobblestones on the streets. And a blacksmith who, according to Kurt's own tall tales, made shoes for the four-footed half of the population.

It was only in moments like this that the culture shock even showed. And in the questions he asked.

Must I separate the colours and whites?

What are the little balls for?

Must the dryer sheets be washed first, also?

Where is the delicates setting?

Is there a powder? Or a bar?

This was a boy who she had to stop from using a cheese grater and soap in the washing machine. And, she couldn't help noticing, used the word 'unglaublich' a little too often. Still, after some entertaining side-trips down the labyrinthine lanes of confusion, all seemed sorted enough for her to get back to pruning her roses.

It was almost dinner time when unfortunate events once again made themselves suspect.

Where's blue? growled Logan. He's skipped out on gym."

What? said Jean. He was a dozen words a second on the whole idea.

I think I heard him swearing in the laundry room, added Scott. I think it was swearing. Kinda hard to tell with German.

Ororo followed Logan down to the laundry where, indeed, soft teutonic curses were turning the air as blue as the speaker, albeit in another language.

Unfortunately for Ororo, she understood every word. She stormed past Logan with a perfect German, Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? perched on her lips. She even took a deep breath as she approached the threshold.

That breath came out in helpless laughter.

Verdammt!

Logan, perplexed and puzzled, rushed to look.

Kurt Wagner was literally wrestling with the folding. T-shirts stuck to his hocks, socks and jocks embraced his tail, an assortment of garments concealed his arms. There was even most of a negligee making him look lie some bizarre laundry-themed ninja.

Logan was the one to charge in and begin untangling. Static cling, he said. It's a bitch.

Ororo battled the giggles as she pitched in. I'm sorry, she bleated. You just looked—

Ridiculous, supplied Kurt. Please to be getting a hills hoist? The wind and sun don't do this.

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Challenge #00014: P.B.L.T.B.H.

Kurt's sandwiches (and the odd combination of ingredients