WhimFairies

I n the year 2000, the last Pyrenean ibex died, crushed by a falling tree. Nine years later, scientists successfully brought it back to life via cloning. A landmark in biology: the first extinct taxon to be raised from the dead. Alas, no sooner had they achieved this remarkable feat than the fruit of their labour died from respiratory failure. It was alive for seven minutes, giving the Pyrenean ibex the dubious distinction of being the only creature to go extinct twice. * Sir Edwin de Machin-Hague X picked up a book a pauper had left on the tube. This was stupendously unlikely for two reasons: firstly he was using the tube for charity. Ordinarily he never would. Secondly he seldom touched anything a peasant had previously owned, least of all a book, as his were all far superior, the knowledge bound within them of an altogether better quality than that cack-handed white-collar fare. Nevertheless he skimmed a few pages and lighted on the story of the Pyrenean ibex, and subsequen...

"When the weather is fine/Then you know it's a sign/For messing about on the river..." The saccharine lyricising curled tinnily from Basil's makeshift TV set. As he sat in his cage, he became aware of a nose protruding from the aperture he called a door, which was in fact merely an absence of bars caused by a controlled explosion some hours before. "W ellington's doing a speech," said Bully, his whiskers twitching with perturbation. Basil continued to watch, pretending not to hear. "S'pose we'd better go..." "Watching my stories," said Basil, shortly. "But you know how he gets," Bully whined. Basil let out a sigh with such vigour that it hurt, got to his feet and switched off the TV. He'd fashioned it from magnesium and litmus paper only a day ago, yet somehow it managed to pick up most terrestrial channels, and a number of interesting diseases. How many of those cathode ray amateurs could do THAT? "Fine,...

Joshua bent over his keyboard, head in hands, staring at his computer screen as though willing his final year thesis to appear out of thin air. At his elbow lay the study he'd chosen to discuss: Diffusion of Responsibility among Adolescents, Niaga et al, 2011. He'd thumbed through it innumerable times already, and what at first glance had appeared a curiosity-piquing, appetite-whetting fodder-mill for a dissertation, was rapidly beginning to appear, not so much a red herring, as a whale shark with a full-body blood blister. Joshua groaned, and rubbed his eyes. He'd been here five hours, and the essay was due at 11am the following morning. Why had he left it so late? Why had he chosen a degree in Psychology in the first place? Why had he not throttled himself with his own umbilical cord when he'd had the chance? He couldn't hand in another assignment late, least of all this one. His track record in this area was notoriously appalling. Why did he never learn? Pu...

"I mean what the fuck are you playing at?" roared the scrawny, grey-haired man in a thick, Scottish burr. The Mau'phaat sat at his desk, phlegmatically puffing on a cigarette, unfazed by the interloper's tirade. The Doctor continued. "I don't know if you've noticed, but ahm gettin' fuckin' rinsed over here!" he screamed hoarsely, "The storylines are shite, the execution shoddy, and the supporting cast patchy at best!" He punctuated this last point by sweeping all the various paraphernalia from the Mau'phaat's expansive desk onto the floor, denting a Newton's cradle beyond repair. He continued over the sound of the rattling ball-bearings... "I mean the last episode had me wading across an ocean planet composed entirely of petrol in search of a fuckin' magic tyre! Are you so bereft of ideas, is your budget so fuckin' non-existent that this is what you call quality fuckin' programmin'?" His r...

Hiro Homada flew into his room and removed his helmet. He breathed heavily, exhausted yet exulted by the day's exertions. He'd taken only a few steps when his eyes fell on the red box that housed his erstwhile friend Baymax. Baymax had once been a member of the Big Hero 6, which Hiro had formed some two years ago, aged just 14, but of late they'd ha d to rebrand themselves the Big Hero 5, as Baymax had started acting weird. The other crimefighters suggested he may have computer senility. Whatever the reason, Hiro was sad that he'd had to excise the cuddly robot from the group. But he couldn't dwell on it. He turned to his computer, bringing up the ever-present window listing illegal bot fights in the city. Hiro no longer competed. Now the Big Hero 5 broke up the gatherings, one of their many vigilante duties. Just then a pop-up appeared, showing a naked woman doing questionable things with a root vegetable. Hiro stared transfixed, sudde...

The soft roucoulement of a dozen rock doves filtered through the alleyway. High on a window ledge sat Eddie, the oldest and most moth-eaten of the group, his mottled feathers gently moulting in the breeze. A young juvenile named Jerry fluttered down beside him and surveyed the scene below. All the ledges and outcrops from the first floor down were c overed in formidable looking spikes, as though the building's mother had been rogered by a porcupine. "Sad, isn't it?" said Eddie. "No, Jerry," said Jerry, perplexed. "No, the spikes," said Eddie. "Oh," said Jerry. "I remember when a pigeon could perch anywhere he damn well pleased, but now..." Eddie trailed off in disgust. "Why do they put them there?" asked Jerry. "Who can say?" said Eddie, "It defies reason. Where do they expect us to nest? And defecate? One day they'll work out that the less space we have to go on the ledges the more we have ...

The salt waters swirled around, the light from the azure sky effortlessly penetrating the shallow cove, and illuminating the sandy seabed. There, in amongst the fine white grains, stood a polyp - well, as far as a polyp can stand, that is - its feathery tentacles, barely visible to the naked eye, swaying lazily in the current. Before too long, a seco nd polyp arrived, and paused, staring at the first with a hint of consternation. "Are you alright there?" said the second polyp. "Fine thanks," replied the first. "It's just you've been sitting there for a damnably long time-" "I'm standing actually." "Ah, forgive me, it's hard to tell, but, erm, what are you waiting for?" The first polyp looked at the second. Or rather, he twisted his medusa-like crown vaguely in his direction. "Wait with me and you'll see." The second polyp had no pressing engagements, because it was a polyp, so it waited with its ...