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References to Steve, Dan, Wendy, Laura, Maura, or Ben are from a work in progress tenatively titled Am Willing To Relocate, about some friends that skip Earth shortly after a nuclear exchange for fun and adventure Out There (which should give you a hint as to how long this work has been 'in progress')...

I'm a big Iron Chef fan, and I wrote several episode summaries based on shows that aired on Food Network in late 2000 and early 2001. They (and an original satirical episode) are available here.

I've recruited an article for The original Project Galactic Guide called Flight Simulators and the Neural System. I have my own article in work.

I've written a few very lightweight movie and book reviews.

Most adults have some kind of Drunken Teenage Story(tm). Here's mine.

Say, how did Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd make all that money in Trading Places?

Dan, on James Bond bad guys: "All these villains tried to outdo each other trying to kill James Bond, like they get extra style points in the Villain Olympics. They overcomplicate things and he always escapes. With me, it'd be two rounds in the back of the head the second I caught him."

[This one was inspired by that scene from The X-Files where Skinner tells Cancer Man that the Navajo storyteller has memorized the contents of a tape containing information embarassing to the Conspiracy]
"Sure, I'm overweight, and I come from a family with a history of heart trouble, so there are a lot of things that could happen to me. However, in the ancient oral tradition of my people, I have related an account of the events of last night to twenty Irish storytellers. Now, unless you're willing to kill every man east of the Mississippi whose name begins with "O'"..."

"Ludmilla is what I would without hesitation call a stunningly beautiful woman; so beautiful, in fact, that I walked into a wall the first time I saw her. Unfortunately, although she was perfectly proportioned, she stood 6'4" and hailed from a planet where height was a primary indicator of pulchritude. My 5'9"ness meant that I had no chance."

Wendy has a theory that Dan's parents (and she will question whether he actually had parents at all, suggesting instead that he may have been the result of a failed Army biowar experiment) read bedtime stories to him from Soldier of Fortune magazine.

Here, our intrepid heroes attempt to work their way out of a BadGuys stronghold:

The only door in the room was the one we'd entered through, and it was
obviously not an option.  When you don't have a door, make your own...
I picked an innocent-looking patch of wall, and "Dan!  Mousehole!"
Dan quickly set up a ribbon charge in the shape of a four-foot mousehole,
touched it off, and presto! instant door!
        Dan and I dove through first, guns up.  The room was large and and the
few lights that had survived Dan's mousehole charge were working under protest.
  More importantly, a man carrying a safecase had just entered.
He dove behind a table, and Dan blew most of it away.  He then scampered behind
a desk near the door. The desk was more substantial, and he managed to get out
the door before we could shred the desk.
        "That safecase looked pretty important," Dan said hopefully.  I didn't
want to split the team up, but Dan's gut feeling was batting 1000 so far.
        "Get him. You've got thirty seconds.  Laura - cover him."
Laura and Dan dashed out the door as I tried to regain my bearings.  Maura
brought up the map display again.  "It sounds like they lost us, " she said,
"but it won't take them more than a minute to figure out which room we went
into, and then they're on us as soon as they get through the door that Ben's
about to fix."
        "Done." Ben took off to short out the door lock.
        "They're moving people to the roof, like they expect a ship pickup.
Should we head for the backup rendezvous?"
Command Decision # 74: the front yard would be a tight fit for Solaris,
especially with all the vehicles parked there.  On the other hand, if they were
expecting a roof pickup, that would put most of their shooters on the wrong
side of the building due to the way the roof sloped...
        "Yes.  Tell Wendy.  Ben, we're moving!"
        Ben came back through the mousehole just as Dan and Laura returned with
the safecase.
        "Twenty-two seconds, including disabling the deadman-self-destruct."
        "New plan," I said.  "We're going out the front door."

        The stairwell door was loose enough in its frame for me to slip the
fibercam through.  The picture wasn't pretty.  Six Drek in battle gear covered
the intersection we wanted, positioned so they could cover both corridors, a
lift, and, unfortunately, our stairwell door.  Five to six straight up
would normally be acceptable odds, but we'd take casualties, and that wasn't
acceptable right now.  We needed a diversion.
        "Maura, can you get hold of that lift?"
        A few keystrokes later, "Yeah.  It's sitting empty in the basement."
        "Can you run it up to the eighth floor, then down to this one?
Overriding all call buttons and keys?"
        "No prob."  The lift bowed to Maura's electronic wishes.
        "Care to explain yourself, boss?"  Laura asked.
        "The changing numbers on the lift panel will get their attention,
especially since the eighth floor was the last place we were seen.  When the
doors pop open on this floor, they'll be ready to blow that lift into next
week.  More importantly, they'll have their backs to us."

possible ending for that same exfiltration...

        We pulled up one corner short of the main lobby fifteen seconds early.
OK, OK, so a quick peek around the corner told me that I had way underestimated
the number of shooters the Drek could scrape together, but I'd survived 15:1
odds before.  Besides, we had some fire support we could call in.
        "Wendy, could you clear the lobby out for us, please?"
        "Stand by."
        "SHHHHHRRRRREEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOWWW KABOOM!" said Mr. Missile as he
introduced himself to Mr. Lobby.
        When the building stopped shaking, Dan said "I would have used the AP
rotaries rather than risk a medium rocket that might take down the whole
building."
        "WHAT?!?" we responded, deafened by the impact.
        "I said, I would have used the AP rotaries rather than risk a medium
rocket that might take down the whole building."
        "THREE O'CLOCK," we answered, ears still ringing.
        "Never mind.  Next time you call in an air strike, at least have the
sense to cover your ears when it arrives."
        We picked our way through the remains of the lobby - and the
remains of the Drek who were guarding it - just as Solaris flared and set down
in the driveway.
        "Curbside service - ya gotta love it!" said Ben as we scrambled out the
front doorhole and up the ramp.
        The explosion had attracted attention, as you might expect, but they
couldn't reposition anything heavy enough to hurt us as Wendy
took us down the street - and I do mean down the street, at about groundcar
altitude.

All samples ©2000, 2001 Chris Carter.  All rights reserved.