That does it, I'm marrying my PC! *Phasmatis storms off, laugh track plays*

It's Coming Out Day and so... I'd like to announce to you all that... me and my Gaming PC are getting married. No human has ever made me feel the way my Core i7 4.4Ghz 32GB 2200Mhz DDR4 dual GTX 1080 beast machine has. Sure, it's attractiveness may fade with time, but it'll happen a lot slower than most people (who start to become unbearable after about 1.5 seconds on a good day).

Trump vs Hillary vs Alien vs Predator vs Spock vs Octopus vs...

Some say The Trump created The Hillary to be the ultimate challenge, a predator that also serves as the ultimate big game quarry

Some say The Hillary was created as the only thing that could stop The Trump from hunting the universe itself to extinction

Yes this fits pretty well

Trump is a big game hunter who takes on challenges that give good sport, because he can

Hillary is the ultimate killing machine that has learned to mimic human speech

Why watch stuff when I can make up my own version of events?

"I AM A GOD" blustered Trump at the audience, casting a level 6 mental subjugation spell on the entire world. People everywhere independently decided to go on Twitter and post about Trump, although the internet infrastructure was destroyed by the force of the psychic energy emanating from the debate floor. Hillary dipped her hands in ogre blood and drew a masonic symbol on her forehead as a solar eclipse began. She began to glow and increase in size, the unmistakable scales of a procompsognathus appearing on her skin as she began the hour-long morphing ritual. The audience is now long dead, having been reanimated by gun-toting Trump supporters who whipped them into an undead frenzy. A beam of pure negative light erupted from the earth as gods and demigods tried desperately to stop the ascension of the two presidential candidates.

I'm a doctor, not a typist, Jim!

Mechanical keyboards are pretty cool. Yes, I know that all keyboards are technically mechanical, but these ones are MORE mechanical. More moving parts! More springs! Levers! Pulleys! Inclined planes! We won't be happy until the entire 2015 Annotated Simple Machines Visual Encyclopedia (now on BD-ROM and double-density floppies) is involved in the simple act of typing a combination ransom/suicide note (nothing complicated like a tweet or email to your boss). Personally, I'm literally quaking with excitement with the possibilities the future holds for super-mechanical keyboards (more mechanical than mechanical!), quantum mechanical keyboards (also cures bad auras! it's made with crystals! aliens talk to me!), and retromechanical keyboards (injection-molded plastic and membrane switches! Like they did in 1999! Sweet rig bro! Does that thing have SVGA?)

Three years ago, I couldn't even type. The concept of putting all ten of my dumb gobbly skeletal local maximas on the keyboard and somehow conducting them into a symphony of trolling was laughable to me. Phasmatis de Apparatus 10 years ago hunted-and-pecked, Phasmatis de Apparatus 9.5 years ago hunted-and-pecked, and by Buddha if it was good enough for them, who am I to throw away that time-honored tradition? My foreselves created this selfnation, under self, and I'm going to continue flailing my punchfists at this computer device in the manner that they set forth. Little did I know that I was typing with four fingers like some kind of early primordial luddite ("Mammals with more than 4 fingers are just a fad. Hey, guys? We should go back into the ocean. Breathing air just isn't right!")

Now, I have a keyboard with mechanical, clackey, keys. Clacks as loud as a supernova in a barometric chamber. Jarring break points that send longitudinal waves up my fingers and cause me to fly back in my seat. I need side-impact airbags just to type. I can't tell you how productive my typing is now that I spend most of my time typing being thrown around by the force of the keys like I'm captain kirk within 10 parsecs of a klingon wessel.

For Ares, in honor of his 999,999,999th Birthday

As I rounded the corner I beheld the terrible source of the noise.

A Djinn, that I knew not, stood in the center of the parking lot, breathing fire and smoke out of every crook and crag on it’s stone-hewn face.

It’s tails continually whipped the pavement, making a terrifying sound as razor-shark superheated slices of manmade stone were kicked up and tossed into buildings and cars.

It’s hands clawed at the air in a swimming motion, as they are unaccustomed to the relative thickness of our atmosphere. Indeed, the Djinn was hovering ever so slightly due to the continual motion of it’s tails and weblike appendages.

My eyes were then drawn to the beast’s weapon, which was lodged in the side of a minivan. The family transport was afflicted by more than a large blunt object, however. Twisting, strangely congruent smoke trails rose from the point of impact, snaking up toward the sky and waving to and fro, as if they were the Hydra’s heads brought to life by the unholy alchemical reaction of minivan and studded iron mace. Then, they dissipated all at once as if their master called for them to return from their deific form to ordinary smoke trails, to be dispersed by an average day’s gentle breeze.

Something was bleeding. The minivan was not just a minivan. It had a sole human occupant, if forcibly plunging an occupant into the side of it using the bluntest of instruments counts as occupancy.

I understood then what had brought this, the last Djinn, up to the surface of the terrestrial sphere. This must be Ares, the interloper, the one they call Gatecrasher, Oreach lo karu, but none of those names hinted at what form this abomination took on.

He looked to be an average male human, a little shorter than average, much thinner, although his garments obscured his shape like the skin of a Honey-badger obscures the placement of it’s muscles and bones, so that it may strike from unexpected angles. He was gaunt of face and steely of eye.

In all recollections of him in battle, his hands moved constantly, adjusting his sword or short-staff to oncoming threats, so that his movements became hypnotic and forgettable. Anyone trying to discern a weakness or pattern would quickly tire of the game.

He wore a helmet forged from the darkest metals, with a visor of dark orichalcon which forge-workers would use to avoid going blind if their furnaces got too hot.

And yet, with this heavy masque, he was able to do battle in almost absolute darkness, according to minstrels’ songs.

Many a battle had been turned from assured victory to pathetic defeat after sundown, when a dark wind would blow from the west, and on it would ride the hoofbeats of some beast of unknown kind, and on it Ares himself, slowly dispatching wave after wave of enemy soldiers which saw and heard him not.

Narcos

You're watching a TV show called 'Narcos' about drug dealers in Mexico

You suddenly think that 'Narcos' sounds like what 'Nachos' would be called in a parallel universe

Suddenly you're sitting at a table

Your grandma has made you a plate of warm nachos and salsa

But something is wrong about the way she says 'Nachos'

You stand up, flipping the table onto grandma

This isn't your universe

You race through the multiverse, looking for the thieves who stole your universe and replaced it with this shitty clone

They can't have gotten far, gotta look for clues

You look at the portal that separates the entirety of the multiverse from the Dark Multiverse.

Ever present, there isn't a point in the multiverse you can get to that the portal isn't right there with you.

You've come to ignore it, as all multidimensional beings do over time.

"They have to come out soon" you say out loud. "No one from the Multiverse can survive in the Dark Multiverse for more than a few moments."

Several aeons pass. You watch a small universe form, survive for a thousand years, and then implode onto itself.

It is then that you realize, the Dark Multiverse is full of beings such as yourself, with a variety of life equal to that of your Multiverse.

Could you have been the victim of inter-multiverse crime?

Who would you report this to?