Update: This story has been claimed by  ALYAHsOurVictoryCryLovesIslanders.

If anyone else needs a story in a pinch, please let me know ASAP and I’ll try my best to help.

Original Post: I’ve been reading the controversy about GISHWHES participants and several published authors. I can’t speak for any of the authors out there, but if they choose not to participate that is their right and their business. Time is precious, and most writers have a full plate as it is. Multiply that but hundreds of requests and I’m sure I would be overwhelmed, too. Please don’t harass them.

I do hope that there are some authors that can participate. It’s fun and silly and harmless, and I fully support the craziness that ensues. I’d like to help, though, so I’ve written a little story of 140 words. It’s a wacky little thing that doesn’t take itself seriously. Now, I write science fiction, fantasy, and historical, and have been published through small presses. I don’t know if that counts, but if it does, anyone can use it for their scavenger hunt.  The story is below. Good luck!

Misha hacked at another thick vine, hesitating to wipe the sweat from his brow. Four hours into the Sunderbans and still no sign of their prey.

Another tangle of vines twisted through the brush. Before he could act, it fell with an unceremonious thump.

Her Majesty lowered her blade. “I do believe you’ve managed to get us lost.”

“It’s here, look.”

The elusive Elopus hovered before them, tentacles whipping outward, its huge trunk twisting toward the sky.

“Excuse me.” Misha said. “Can we get a photo?”

It blinked.

Misha and the Queen snapped a picture and trekked out of the jungle. Definitely getting into the books on that one.

“At least this is better than that dreadful Yeti. I can still smell the kale on its breath.”

Misha nodded. “So, what’s next?”

“Loch Ness, perhaps?”

He grinned. “To the kilt-mobile!”

Go forth and GISHWHES! Gotta beat Shatner, people!