Sam Becker

Timothy Johnson

Jesse Curry

Brian Bemiller

Chris McPherson

Peter Stuart

Dave Foley

Chris Ehemann

Doug Mill

Nick Farina

Fra Valsecchi

Greg M

Vance Faulkner

Becky Carlson

Adam Baldwin

All was quiet in the Musick household save for a mechanical hum emanating from the attic. A keen observer watching from the across street might have noticed jet black clumps of material gently tumbling out of the chimney onto fresh, powdery snow.

A fine dusting adorned the brow of a snowman next door. "Is 'he snowman is growin Barnet Fair?" quoth the cockney lad next door. Indeed the snowman had grown a full chin-curtain by late afternoon. Neighbors stared at the endless stream emanating from the Viscount's chimney.

Flashback to yesterday. The Viscount peers nervously over his shoulder before turning down an alley, sure that he hasn't been followed. He's always uncomfortable with this, but he's addicted. In his pocket, an antique pistol, he hates to put it at risk, but the situation is dire.

One nervous finger on the trigger in his pocket, the Viscount completed the transaction. He acquired the rapid beard growth serum, but at what cost?

Fifty cents shy of a beard wax, might as well get blotto instead.

Dejected, he stumbled into the closest watering hole and ordered his go-to hot buttered rum. The bartender glanced over, but quickly recoiled in horror. Greg reached up and felt hair quickly sprouting from his forehead, nose, and every other bare patch of skin on his face.

"Nonono again!" Greg rushed for the door, surrounded by the terrified looks of all those who laid eyes on him. Somebody must have spiced his first rum with beard growth serum. "Waitaminute is it full moon too?! Alright, i think i know who can help me" and Young Adam came to mind

Like Young MC and Young Thug, Young Adam was a rapper who chose his name as a nod to the youth of the streets. “Look, I can’t help you, Greg. I don’t know anything about beards. Try Sam. He’s got crazy hair. Oh, and call me Lil’ Adam now. Young Adam was already taken on Tik Tok.”

But Lil' Adam had a big heart. Despite his nefarious reputation for being a bad boy, he also was a regular volunteer at The Foundation for Lil' Finger Painters of America (FLFPA). His passion for finger painting was strong, only surpassed by his passion for a forbidden lover...

They were brought together one fateful day, when they reached for the same smock. The paint may have been tempera but nothing could temper his feelings for her. He said hello then tried to segued into asking her to paint with him. This was no paint by numbers... it was true love.

"Speaking of tempera" he said with the smooth confidence of a fully bearded Greg, "I have a half-finished adult coloring book waiting for me at home, would you care to join me"? She did, and they created beautiful pre-drawn art together. The first of many for years to come.

Lost in Greg's Beard

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Sean King

Deep off the coast, in the treacherous hills of Retrium, a close-knit band of developers, designers, and product owners huddled around a crackling fire in the dead of night. As was tradition, each member came prepared with criticisms and praise necessary to improve the tribe.

The warrior-cleric tending to his falcon familiar asked the party, "Anyone for a batch of Lean Coffee?", but none replied. A secret recipe from his home in the fens, this brew was strong and overcame the cold of the harshest of Decembers in North Umbria. The meeting was about to

commence as a bolt of lightning ripped across the sky. The quickening was upon us. A scream pierced the thick fog, no doubt Connor MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod. The warrior-cleric sent his falcon aloft, eyes rolling into his head as he enters the falcon's mind. Who was out there?

After 3 hours of no telepathic visions, Connor realized the brutal truth. The falcon's eyes were not rolling into its head to signal a transition to another dimension in which it can see the future... it was having a seizure. You see, the falcon is a diabetic.

It's true, there are a lot of falcons living in the United States and some are pretty sick and have trouble keeping up with their medications.

"GPT-3 is a helluva drug" he grunted to himself having just used the AI tool to finish his latest Highlander fanfic with Connor Macleod fighting off a clan of Falconers that feed their Falcons a cocktail of Modafinil, Speed, and Meatcember specials.

Clop clop clop. "What's that? Is someone sneaking up on me while wearing wooden shoes!?" Suddenly a kilt-wearing horse pranced into view.

"Scots.. they're all the same" thought Connor MacLeod. "I'd have a long face too if I drank that bog water they pass off as whiskey." The horse began bagpiping with great gusto. In traditional fashion, there was nothing under the kilt. "OH FOR THE LOVE OF HADRIAN!"

But Connor hadn’t ventured this far north to waste his time listening to middling equine musicians. He had an intense craving, one that could only be satisfied by a single succulent, savory confection. His mouth watered as he imagined the salty highland haggis coating his tongue.

A knock, knock, knock on the door of Gladys' Haggis - just as he practiced in his mind so many times before. But nothing. Peeking in the window all he saw was a mattress, latticed, laying there on the floor!

He walked around the house, to the back by the kitchen. Took another peek in the window and there it was...smoking hot, delicious haggis. "They must be here somewhere", he thought, and then he heard it... the kilt-wearing horse was near.

Kilt or no kilt, that horse was not going to spoil his haggis feast. He quickly slid the window open and jumped inside. As he approached the plate of sheep insides, he heard a voice behind him. “There can be only one.”

“One what?” he replied. His thoughts quickly returned to the previous summer. Had he been discovered? Did someone know? But he left no trace!

Out of the darkness walked a ghostly young lady, dressed in white. She was alive!

"She didn't get eaten by the eels" Vance says. "I wasn't nervous" Adam clarifies. "Maybe I was a little bit concerned, but that's not the same thing." Vance offers to stop reading, but Adam is already too invested, "No, You could read a little bit more ... if you want, Grandpa."

Nick Farina
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