The Biohazard Vault
In a remote and secretive laboratory located in the heart of the Amazon rainforest, a group of scientists work tirelessly to study some of the deadliest viruses known to man. They have developed a state-of-the-art facility, known as the Biohazard Vault, which is equipped with the latest technology to keep these viruses contained and prevent any accidental outbreaks.
Dr. Sarah Reed is a brilliant virologist who has been studying these viruses for years. She is the head of the research team at the Biohazard Vault and has dedicated her life to finding a cure for some of the world’s deadliest diseases.
One day, while working in the lab, Sarah notices something strange happening with one of the viruses. It seems to be mutating at an unprecedented rate, and she realizes that it could potentially break out of the containment chamber and cause a global pandemic. As she investigates further, she discovers that someone has been tampering with the virus, intentionally causing it to mutate.
Sarah is forced to team up with a group of mercenaries to track down the culprit and stop them before it’s too late. They must venture deep into the Amazon rainforest, where they face numerous dangers, including deadly animals and hostile tribes.
As Sarah and her team get closer to the truth, they uncover a conspiracy involving a powerful pharmaceutical company that wants to profit from the virus by releasing it onto the world. Sarah and her team must race against time to stop the company from unleashing the virus, and find a way to cure those who have already been infected.
Cramazon Dot Com #drabble #amazon
Cramazon Dot Com
by Tom B. Taker
Half-way through the shift and I was behind schedule. Panting, blisters popping, I paused for a 15-second break.
The urgent alerts from the GPS strapped to my head couldn’t shake the bliss.
Six seconds later the floor manager showed up. “That’s it,” he said. “This is a verbal.”
The GPS parroted the threat. “Verbal! Verbal!”
“Two more and you’re fired!”
Humans weren’t meant to micromanaged to the nanosecond by computers. I snapped. My lightning fast quick draw would have been enough to take out Wyatt Earp himself.
I scanned him right in the face. He screamed. I ran.
—
A drabble is a short storm form consisting of exactly 100 words.
Monday Morning Improv: Undesirable Pilot Litter
Today’s post is brought to you by the Universe (or, as I like to call it, the random number generator). I asked for three random words and was given, in this order: Undesirable, pilot, litter. Yes, this post will be about the undesirable kind. Not the kinder, gentler desirable litter. Now, if you’ll fasten your seat belts this post is about to take off. -Ed.
Undesirable Pilot Litter
by Tom B. Taker
Uneasily I took my seat. At least it was by the window. I wasn’t feeling so good. Flying always makes me nervous and this was my first time in an airplane in a long, long time. It had been so long I literally couldn’t remember when I’d last flown. Perhaps that business trip back when I’d been somebody? Certainly it was before the events of 9/11. I’d never been through TSA security before.
When did airport security start reaching into people’s pants, and what did they hope to find in my underwear? Just because I was ticklish I had to remove my shirt? That was not very pleasant. Sure I cried and yelled, “Stop touching me,” but that only seemed to egg them on.
No sense crying over spilled milk I said to myself. I might as well try to make the best of it. I adjusted in my seat and tried in vain to feel comfortable where the pee dribbles had gone down my leg. The warmth had quickly given way and was now ice cold. Breathe in, breathe out. Relax, dammit.
I heard rather than felt the deep rumbling from my gut. Anxiously I jammed the button for the flight attendant. “Where are the air sick bags?” Surprisingly I was able to get the words out. Things were finally going my way.
The contents of my stomach also came out before she had time to answer. Too late. Moments later I was provided with a garbage bag and towels. The groping would not continue. This time I was on my own.
Drenched in sweat, pee and my own juices, I finally decided to try to occupy my mind. Magazines? Gack, no! They suck. In a desperation move I turned my head and looked out the tiny little smudgy window.
Bowels. Void.
My finger repeatedly jammed the attendent button until she reappeared. She did not look happy. “Sir! Listen to me,” she said sternly. “I have duties. You cannot keep monopolizing my time. Strange as it may seem, you are not the only passenger on this plane.”
I gestured out the window. Reluctantly she looked. The reaction in her eyes was priceless. Suddenly everything was okay.
BlogFestivus – The Recap
BlogFestivus 2012 is now officially in the history books!
I’d like to thank our illustrious leader, Blogdramedy, for coming up with this fantastic idea! Now we drink. There’s rum in the eggnog, right? And raw eggs?
God bless us every one!
Like Santa on steroids I will be coming around to visit all BlogFestivus participants and share my special kind of love, but I can’t promise I’ll do it all in one night. I’m looking forward to reading all nine reindeer stories from every single person who played along.
This year’s BlogFestivus was a smashing success. My blog felt the love and I met a lot of wonderful people.
I’ve had very little time of late, but I was able to visit some of you and I liked what I saw. Good stuff! If you missed BlogFestivus, I highly recommend taking a look. In our household we also plan to engage in more traditional Festivus activities such as “The Airing of Grievances” and “Feats of Strength.”
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BlogFestivus – Day Nine: And to all a good night!
And to all a good night!
by Tom B. Taker
Just off a frantic Buenos Aires street was a small avenue no one ever noticed. It was the dog days of summer and heat was rising up from the asphalt. Along the avenue was a café where a reindeer named Rudolph sat alone at a corner table. A straw fedora was pulled low and obscured his face. He was sipping a mojito. The day’s edition of La Nación was folded across his lap.
On the table was a can of Barbasol shaving cream. No one seemed to think that was odd.
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BlogFestivus – Day Eight: The Reindeer Before Easter
The Reindeer Before Easter
by Tom B. Taker
Blixem was melancholy. Another winter and it was the same old thing. A whole year of preparing for one crazy night. He was in a rut deep enough to hang Christmas stockings. He wandered aimlessly away from Christmas Town followed by his pet, Hooman.
He trudged all night without purpose through the snow until he found himself in a forest. Then, at dawn, he stumbled into a strange grove of trees. They were arranged in a circle and each contained a door with a mysterious symbol.
“What’s this?” Blixen said. “It’s someplace new!”
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BlogFestivus – Day Seven: Lights
Lights
by Tom B. Taker
Frank Pucket was a man with a problem. After leaving for work he’d doubled back home because he’d forgotten his chestnuts. But turning onto his street he saw a van emblazoned “Dunder Electrical” already parked in the drive.
Frank pulled over in time to see Dunder himself, antlers and all, chilling on the porch chatting with his wife, Helena. That bastard reindeer had been hovering around his wife as long as he could remember. Frank couldn’t hear what they were saying but could tell that Helena’s eyes were all aglow.
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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