Running Away to Paradise

Why does the world seem to be so wrong?
Where are the answers to it all?
The nights are cruel, and the days are long.
Wondering when you'll stop your fall.
And you say,
"I want to run away to paradise.
No pain, no hurt, nothing to agonize.
I want to run away to paradise.
Will you come with me tonight?"

Is it wrong to want to run away?
Can you just leave it all behind?
Is there any worth in trying to stay?
These thoughts are drowning out my mind.
And I say,
"I want to run away to paradise.
No pain, no hurt, nothing to agonize.
I want to run away to paradise.
Will you come with me tonight?"

The Wizard's Apprentice and the Girl

"Why are you lying up on the roof?"

Hal rose from his spot to spy a girl standing on the path that ran into town. He returned his gaze to the sky and said, "Because up until this moment, no one ever bothered me while I was up here."

"This is the wizard's house. Are you the apprentice?"

"Yes, and I'm studying."

"Studying? Without books?"

"Silly girl! A wizard's books are the elements themselves!" Hal spread his arms out toward the sky for emphasis.

"It looks to me like you're cloud watching."

Hal folded his arms, "So?"

"May I join you?"

Saving Money Part Two

Continued from "Saving Money"
~~~

I brought my purchase up to counter as casually as possible. The employee spied my cup and then her bloodshot eyes took hold of my eyes and peered deep into my soul. The words I dreaded to hear croaked out in emphysema-laden breaths, "Is that coffee in the cup?"

That's it, I thought, the jig is up. She knows I just filled the cup with creamer, effectively saving myself 53 cents by avoiding the overpriced grocery market. "Yes," I said in a completely unconvincing voice.

"One twenty-seven," she said.

I quickly paid and made off with my prize. The perfect crime!

Indecision

The door closed with a slow creak and a deafening click. Just like that she was gone, and I just let her leave.

I stood there staring at the door; not sure of what I expected to happen. I wasn't even sure of what I wanted to happen. Was it supposed to be this easy? Should I follow her? Should I wait and see if she comes back?

Every moment I let slip away, the farther she slipped away. Every moment that passed, the realization that she wasn't coming back crushed my heart little by little.

And I just stood there.

Saving Money

"I can't believe the prices of these groceries!" Ben told his wife, Lisa, as they purveyed the dairy aisle. "It's highway robbery except it's a grocery store . . . and also I'm still purchasing something, but you know what I'm getting at."

Lisa grabbed a carton of half and half from the cooler.

"Three bucks for some half and half?" Ben exclaimed.

"But I like some with my coffee."

"They give away spurts of half and half at the coffee machine in the gas station down the street. Just fill up a coffee cup and put a lid on it. They'll never know."

Memories Only Die When New Ones Are Not Made

He stopped and turned. The city he had lived in his entire life was soon going to slip over the horizon, perhaps never to be seen again. A sigh escaped his lips as joyful memories flooded his mind. There was still time to turn back. But for what? Memories?

He turned back toward the new horizon. There lay countless new possibilities free from the disappointments of yesteryear. On that horizon lay hope; lay life anew. To stay behind for memory's sake would be to abandon what made those memories so meaningful.

The city sank into the horizon with the setting sun.

A New Galactic Federation President

B'jnktl the news alien wiped a tear from one of his seven eyes. "Ladies, gentlemen and gleeborts, we have just witnessed history in the making! The Galactic Federation has broken down yet another barrier of prejudice by electing for the first time someone named Vithor Lovenstein to the office of president! Truly this is a remarkable advancement in the civil rights of people named Vithor Lovenstein."

CoventionalThinkingBot5000, GNN's chief political analyst, broke in as B'jnktl's voice began to falter from the enormity of the moment, "This is comparable to the election of Q*bert Johnson, the first president with a ridiculous-name-even-by-galactic-federation-standards name."

~~~
More stories concerning Galactic Federation Politics

Past His Prime

"Greetings, Lead Man," the voice of Count Von Mürder crackled over the 1960's-era intercom system, "I congratulate you for finding my Mürder Cave–" the intercom hissed over the monologue.

Lead Man took the opportunity to examine his surroundings. Count Von Mürder apparently did not have a lot of success after the 70's. His lair was more a museum of antique supervillainy.

The intercom squealed and returned to audibility, "–never calls. My son legally changed his name to 'Von Maur;' told me 'Mürder' wasn't even actual German–"

Lead Man sighed. He was going to be here for a while.

~~~
More adventures of the Impregnable Lead Man

Philip and Percival

"This is most unacceptable, Philip," Percival muttered as he looked over Philip's history homework. "Most unacceptable," he repeated for emphasis.

"What's wrong?" Philip asked his smarter-than-average pet hamster.

"For starters," Percival adjusted his glasses, "Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson was most definitely not the first president, and his vice president was not Kermit the Frog."

"Oh, Percival, how will I pass tomorrow's test if I don't know the answers?"

"You could study."

"Meh," Philip shrugged.

Percival pondered a moment. "I've got it! I shall attach myself to your face as a clever beard disguise so that I can give you the answers!"

Rain

Rain, rain, don't go away.
Please stay around for today.
My body is weak, and my soul is dry.
It's time for someone else to cry.
Take my bruised and battered soul;
Wash it, cleanse it, make it whole.
Rain, rain, wash me away.
Carry me off to a brighter day;
To the sea where troubles are no more.
Take me to that distant shore.
The sun rises where sky and sea collide,
And on that horizon I will hide.
Rain, rain, don't go away.
Please stay around for today.

Just in Case You Didn't Get It the First Time

"Let me get this straight, Ms. Reid. You are being hunted by a robot that looks and sounds like an Austrian bodybuilder–"

"–From the future," injected Julie.

"Yes, of course. And this robot–"

"–From the future–"

"–was sent back because your son is the future leader of the human resistance. And your son sent back a soldier–"

"–From the future–"

"–to protect you, and ended up being the father of your son, resulting in a time-looping paradox. Is that correct?"

Julie leaned in uncomfortably close, "From the future!" she whispered loudly.

The Search for the Fountain of Youth

"Amigos, we have almost found the fabled Fountain of Youth. I can feel it," Juan Ponce de León said with as much enthusiasm as he had when they had started their search through Florida.

"You always say that," said Francisco, "What makes you so sure this time?"

"Look at these banana trees. These bananas are much smaller than regular bananas. You could almost say they were . . . baby bananas! We are close, muchachos!"

"These may simply be a smaller variety of banana. I doubt it indicates 'youthfulness,'" said Sanchez.

"And what about this alligator . . . in a diaper?"

"You dressed it that way!"

The Hypocrisy of Peace Protests

Thousands of protesters had gathered. Perhaps with enough people protesting, the leaders of the world would finally acknowledge that war never solved anything.

As they made their way down Main Street, someone began chanting, "Love your fellow man," and the thousands soon followed. None seemed to think that the hundreds of signs comparing Bush to Hitler violated the maxim they shouted. No. He was not worthy of love.

The police began to disperse the crowds. This protest was too important to allow that to happen. The protesters lashed out in righteous anger against the riot police in the name of peace.

Ice Cream Inflation

The first two measures of The Entertainer played on a continual loop attracting kids from far and wide.

"Sorry kids, but with rising gasoline and food prices, we've had to slightly raise our prices," the ice cream truck driver explained, "The Choco-pops literally cost an arm and a leg. Rainbow Rockets cost a single flower: the White Morning Flower, which blooms once every fifteen years and only on the peak of Mount Kilimanjaro."

"I only have a nickel," said Andy.

"Well, we do have the Vanilla Cone . . . provided your nickel is a 1913 Liberty Head nickel, valued five million US dollars."

More Breaking News

B'jnktl the news-alien broke into programming, "Joke-candidate Jorgan Skithypot has rocketed ahead in the polls after news of his pick for vice president. We turn now to GNN political analyst ConventionalThinkingBot5000."

"Skithypot has had a tremendous 30 point jump after naming Babe-mo-Tron™ as his running mate. We polled new Skithypot supporters, and they all said they support Babe-mo-Tron™ because she has 'a great personality,' but when analyzed under a mind-reader-beam they all support her because she is quote: 'a total babe.'"

"Google-Bronx's vice president and Space-Nobel Peace Prize winner Theodore Franton just doesn't seem all that qualified now."

"Very true, B'jnktl."

~~~
More stories concerning Galactic Federation Politics

Lovenstein's Running Mate

"We interrupt Monday Night Space-Ape Fights for this breaking news," B'jnktl the news-alien announced, "Galactic presidential contender Vithor Lovenstein has announced Encyclopedia Galactica Version 23.107 as his running mate. We turn now to political analyst ConventionalThinkingBot5000. It's surprising that Lovenstein chose a non-sentient software program as a vice presidential nominee."

"Not really. Polls showed potential voters saw Lovenstein as less intelligent than his opponents, so the choice of Encyclopedia Galactica Version 23.107 was really a no-brainer."

"Lovenstein's opponents have criticized the pick, though."

"Certainly. President Google-Bronx said Encyclopedia Galactica Version 23.107 may be intelligent, but cannot sympathize with the average voter."

~~~
More stories concerning Galactic Federation Politics

Why He Switched to Monsters

"Eureka!"

Igor quickly hobbled down the stairs, "What is it, my Master?"

"Igor, I know I say this all the time, but believe when I say that this time I have finally stumbled upon the invention that will change human development as fundamentally as fire, or the wheel, or the all-you-can-eat buffet! Behold!" Dr. Frankenstein dramatically whipped a sheet off his latest creation. Glorious silence filled the room as the mad scientist allowed Igor proper time to soak it all in. "Impressive, eh?" he finally said.

"What is it?"

"I call it the solar-powered flashlight!"

Igor sighed.

Unoriginal Title

Bill pursed his lips in sheer anticipation as Ursula the critic peered over his manuscript. Bill was sure he could improve his writing with her advice. After several minutes Ursula put down the manuscript with a jaded sigh.

"Is it bad?" Bill winced as he asked.

"It's okay, I suppose," Ursula sighed again, "just not very original."

"Which part?"

"All of it! There's a hero, a villain, a love interest, secondary characters. It's all been done before."

"But those are just basic elements of a novel."

"Overused is more like it. Also, why did you write this in English? So predictable!"

Death's Honeymoon Is Apparently Over

A phone rings.

"You know it's 3 a.m., right? What? I'll be right in."

"What was that, honey?"

"Some kid playing in traffic or something. Don't wait up for me."

"All you ever do is work nowadays. We never spend time together anymore."

"Look, Pesty. I'm Death. You knew that when you married me. It's not my fault these Americans can't teach their children not to kill themselves!"

"I don't think you try hard enough. I'm home all the time."

"You're Pestilence! Locusts work on what? A seven year cycle? I have a fulltime job!"

"I knew I should've married War!"

I Really Don't Know What to Tell You

"Tonight is the night!" Joe said to his reflection in the mirror, "I finally have a date with Rachel, and you better not mess it up!" Joe practically growled as he pointed an accusatory finger at his reflection.

His reflection stared back at him with cold empty eyes.

Joe continued to argue with his reflection, "You're always messing these things up for me."

Joe's reflection gave back a quizzical look.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about! Remember my date with Jill? I go to the bathroom and you are there. You threw off my groove!"

Joe's reflection shrugged.

Thinly Veiled Analogy

Russ and George ordered lunch at the local burger joint and sat down to eat together. Russ reached over and took a handful of George's fries.

"Hey! Those are my fries," said George.

"I'm taking these fries because they're a side dish, a disputable part of the meal," said Russ, "At least I'm not eating your burger." Immediately finishing his sentence, Russ grabbed hold of George's burger and took a bite.

"You can't do that!" George protested.

"Yes I can. It's a peacekeeping measure," explained Russ.

"How is it peacekeeping?"

"If you don't let me eat it, there won't be peace."

Alvin the Alien

Hirglaz sighed as another human came up to the Occupation Complaints Bureau desk. The placard read "Alvin." Leadership up top said that humans were 7.3 percent more willing to cooperate with Earth's conquerors if they took human names.

"Yes?" Hirglaz said to the ugly human (in truth, all humans were ugly).

"Well, Mister Alvin, the Torizzian deathships that enforce the sunset human curfew make this humming noise, and it keeps me up at night."

"And what do you want me to do?"

"Well, I was hoping all you aliens might just leave Earth, maybe?"

"No."

"Well, it was worth a try."

Because When I Want Medical Advice, I Want Someone Who Can Only Understand Medicine in Relation to Their Own Line of Work

"My name is Earl Studebaker, and I am a construction worker on some of the world's largest skyscrapers. I know about taking small things, like blueprints, and making them bigger things, like really big skyscrapers. So when my doctor told me that I had an enlarged prostate, I asked him, 'How are we going to make it bigger?'

"'You don't understand,' he said, 'It's not supposed to be enlarged. That is why you need to take a drug to shrink it.'

"'But,' I stammered, 'I don't know how to make things small! How can I trust you?'

"'Because I'm a doctor.'"

The Case of the Tricky Pirate- Part 2

Continued from "The Case of the Tricky Pirate."
~~~

Shamrock O'Malley and I arrived at the nearest dock set on the Thames. Shamrock scoured the dock for signs of pirate activity.

"Even if your hypothesis is correct," said I, "how are we going to find a pirate?"

"Elementary, my dear Walton," said Shamrock, "We look for the Jolly Roger, and there it is!" Shamrock pointed out a hundred-year-old frigate flying the skull and crossbones.

We ran to the pirate ship where aboard stood a peg-legged man holding a stick with a boot connected to it. "Arrrr! You'll never catch me alive!"

"I can't believe it," I said, "Shamrock . . . was right!" 

~~~
More cases from the files of Shamrock O'Malley

Conspiracy Nut

The man on the TV keeps saying that it's safe to go outside, but I just can't believe him. His hair is just too good-looking. It could only have been done by alien invaders . . . or ChiComs. Either one is equally as bad, so I'll just stay inside. Obviously, if aliens or Chinese people invaded, they could not get to me at all. I double-locked the front door.

The TV has moved on to a segment about a presidential visit to Africa. Fools. Don't they know that that is a clever clone and/or robot duplicate? Why can nobody see this except me?

Also Don't Ask Why He Can Speak Modern English

"'Tis just like riding a horse," Sir Gregory of Cornwall told himself as he stood atop the halfpipe, skateboard underfoot.

Timothy Walters, the poor man inexplicably linked with this Celtic knight that somehow was in present-day California, ran to stop Sir Gregory. That seemed to be all Timothy did nowadays.

But Timothy was too late. Sir Gregory disappeared from the top of the halfpipe, screaming. Timothy clenched his eyes shut but did not hear the inevitable sound of breaking bones.

"'Tis an invigorating sport," Sir Gregory said as he did an aerial 360.

Timothy felt he was trapped in a sitcom.

~~~
Other adventures of Sir Gregory of Cornwall in the present-day

Showdown in the Abandoned Cereal Factory

"You're too late, Batboy!" Admiral Breakfast twirled his handlebar mustache betwixt his thumb and forefinger. "The delivery trucks have already spread out across the city. And in each box of cereal I put in two scoops . . . of nitroglycerin!"

Batboy found himself tied-up on a slow-moving conveyor belt moving toward a grinding machine.

Admiral Breakfast laughed, "And now you will become a part of a balanced breakfast!"

"I don't eat breakfast!" Batboy flexed his potbelly and broke free from his bindings.

"But breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" Admiral Breakfast charged with an enormous spoon.

Spoon and bat clashed.

~~~
More adventures of Batboy!
The commercial that brought forth Admiral Breakfast

I Wrote This One Just for Me

"I've been recently considering the value of naming things within stories," Fiona said to her English teacher. "I can name things completely random things, and it would imitate real life, but not all my readers would get it. Conversely, I could name things what they represent. I could name my character 'Everyman' instead of 'John' and just announce to the reader: 'I'm writing in allegory!'"

Math Teacher said, "Is there only those two extremes?"

"I suppose I could name him 'Everyman' and write him contrary to his name, but that would only confuse the readers."

Math Teacher the English teacher nodded.

Independent Minded

"Hey, Bill, have you seen Latest Blockbuster? It's pretty good."

"I hate Latest Blockbuster! I'm independently minded, unlike all the corporate sheep who love what they're told to love. I thought better of you, Paul."

"Oh? So what didn't you like about the movie?"

"It's popular."

"Is that it? You just don't like it, because other people do like it?"

"Don't you see? If I like something that's popular, then people will start calling me a tool! I can't bear being singled out of the entire group like that!"

"That doesn't make sense. Are you even listening to what you're saying?"

Today

Today was a hard day
I spent much time in quiet contemplation
Where did I go wrong?
What could I have done?
I stood still as the world moved on about me
I could not cry
So I let the sky cry in my stead

Magical Cutbacks

"I'm the genie of the lamp! You may now have two wishes!"

Muhammad frowned, "Two? I thought genies gave people three wishes?"

"Management's cutting back," the genie shrugged, "Magic is expensive these days."

"Okay, fine," Muhammad grumbled, "For my first wish, I want a magical carpet that can fly around."

"I can do that, but first: How much do you weigh? You look a little pudgy."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"If you're over a certain weight, you'll have to use two wishes for two magic carpets sewed together. Also, you'll have to pay extra for carry-on luggage."

Bad Joke

"Have you heard the one about the rhinoceros and the bee?"

"Yes. I told you that I have heard of every joke ever conceived," Joe claimed.

I had cornered him, "Ha! I know you're lying now, because I just said the first two things that came into my head. There is no such joke!"

"No, it is a joke," Joe said with a smug grin.

"Then tell it to me."

"What did the rhinoceros say after it was stung by the bee?"

"I don't know. What?"

"Ouch."

I grumbled, "That wasn't very funny."

"I didn't say it was a good joke."

It's What's Inside that Counts

"Ted, you should probably ease up on that food. You know your doctor said you should try to lose some weight."

Ted burst out into tears. "You don't understand! Nobody understands!"

"Sorry. I didn't know you were so sensitive about–" Lisa tried to apologize.

"I'm a fat man living inside a slightly-thinner-yet-still-also-fat man's body! That's why I eat! To be the man I really am on the inside!"

"Why aren't you just content with who you already are?"

"Because this body is not me! I'm fatter than this on the inside! I'm being brave by stuffing my face like this!"

The Case of the Tricky Pirate

"It appears we missed our opportunity at catching the criminal. But not to worry, for the case is afoot, or rather a leg!" said Shamrock O'Malley.

"I don't follow," I said trying to understand Shamrock's logic.

"Dr. Walton, if you notice here in the snow, a small circular imprint by the boot imprints, clearly indicating that our culprit has a peg-leg and is therefore a pirate!"

"But there are both right and left boot imprints. Would that not rather indicate use of a cane?"

"Merely pirate treachery to lead us off the scent! To the harbor!"

I sighed as I followed.

~~~
More cases from the files of Shamrock O'Malley

Proverbs 22:13

Herbert Waxelman lazed on his couch all day. Day after day he grew fatter and paler.

One day his wife could not stand it any longer, "Go outside and get some exercise and sun!"

"It's dangerous outside," Herbert said, "and I might get killed! There's this news report: A lion escaped from the zoo!"

"Well, at least open a window and get some fresh air."

Herbert's nacho-cheese laced scent wafted out the open window, attracting the lion.

Later, Herbert's wife came in, "Uck! Take a bath! You smell like an animal. You also need a shave."

Herbert growled in dissatisfaction.

Office Hijinks

"Where are all my paper clips?"

Phil pretended he did not hear Ryan and continued to type.

"Dude! My paper clips!"

Phil sighed and swiveled his chair around, "What are you talking about?"

Ryan thrust an empty cup into Phil's face, "This was half full of paper clips when I left for lunch! This keeps happening to me! Staples, push pins, the eraser stubs at the end of my pencils! Who would go through the effort of prying out eraser stubs?"

"Look, I've got work to do."

Ryan stormed off. Phil patted his desk drawer filled with Ryan's junk and smiled.

The Man Whose Face Stayed That Way

A piercing scream broke the monotonous drone of the busy city street. More audible gasps and screams soon followed. Women fainted. Children cried. Grown men quaked in fear. So was the daily life of the man whose face "stayed that way."

His mother had always scolded him not to make funny faces. He thought she was being ridiculous, but now he regretted ever having doubted.

One day he had to use his hands to contort his face just so. But upon removing his hands, his face never returned. Things were never the same.

If only he had listened to his mother.

Life on the High Neural Impulse Seas

"The sea's been still for over a fortnight, Cap'n," the helmsman commented.

"Aye, Mr. Axon. Steady as she goes."

No sooner had the captain finished did a call come from the crow's nest, "Brainstorm's a'comin'! Off to starboard!"

"Cap'n, what should we do?" Mr. Axon gulped.

"'Tis a good day to die," smiled Captain Myelinbeard. "All hands on deck! Batten the hatches! Mr. Axon?"

"Aye, Cap'n?"

"Take us into the storm." Myelinbeard breathed in heavy the salt air. "A great many ideas are a'brewin' out there to be caught."

"We may not survive this one."

"The price we pay, Mr. Axon."

Don't Ask Why He's in the Present

"Are you learning to cope with the future? We certainly have a lot of stuff that you didn't have," Timothy Walters said as he prepared breakfast for Sir Gregory of Cornwall.

"It is not as difficult as you might–What devilry is this?" Sir Gregory jumped as the toaster chimed. "The bread you placed into that contraption! It's transubstantiated!"

"Oh, that's a toaster."

Sir Gregory nibbled the toast, "Does it turn bread into this delicious substance by alchemy?"

"No, it just toasts it. We have computers and stuff, and you're just interested in a toaster?"

Sir Gregory was not listening, "Amazing!"

The Death of Ennis

Thirty men retreated to the fortress Karsiv, which translated means "Sanctuary." The Yussin surrounded Karsiv and prepared for siege.

From among the thirty, Ennis spoke, "Forty years has it been since Keifas died and vested his authority in the Knights of Donar. And though I am a scribe and have never held a sword, give one to me now. Let us fight our last battle, and make the last great journey beyond this life."

The men agreed this was good, and attacked the Yussin at Karsiv and fell before them. Thus ended the life of Ennis of Nator, friend of Keifas.

Takin' Out Those Dangerous Herbivores!

My name is Carl Awesome. Long story short: I hunt dinosaurs.

I was rockin' out to some Led Zeppelin and I got so totally pumped! I just had to KILL something, you know what I mean?

So I just run out into the wild with Over the Hills and Far Away running through my head, and I run into this brachiosaurus. It gave me this look as it was chewing its cud, and I just wasn't going to take that! So I scaled its neck like a tree trunk and then snapped it.

Later that evening, we had Brachio-Burgers ala Awesome.

~~~
Other Carl Awesome: Dinosaur Hunter stories

Don't Know What to Title It

"This just in: The FDA has just officially classified water as a carcinogen. We now go live to our correspondent, Jill Offenberger."

"Thanks, John. In a written report just released, the FDA cited a 100% correlation between those who had developed cancer, and those that consume water and/or water by-products."

"This will be startling news to many of our viewers."

"Indeed. The report goes on to cite that given a long enough period of time, all consumers of water will eventually die, whether you develop cancer or not."

"Thanks, Jill. It's good to know our government is looking out for us."

Could You Spare a Few Dollars?

A bum stopped me on the street recently. He was a sorry sight for eyes.

"Let me just put this out in the open," he said to me without any indication that I wanted to talk to him, "I'm an alcoholic. I know I have a problem, and I'm wondering if you can spare a few dollars so I can buy a beer."

"No! I'm not going to aide your addiction!"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry. Of course. I actually meant I was collecting donations for starving children in Africa. Could you spare a few dollars?"

"Well, if it's for African children. . ."

Dr. Seuss, Eat Your Heart Out

Once upon a time in the land of Floo.
There was a man named Thnickery Bloo.
He had so many things he did not know what to do.
He had troogles and bumfuzzlers, hooplazers and crumb-tosslers.
So many great things that could occupy him for hours.
But he sat on his rump and sighed a great sigh.
"I have so many things," he said, "but I've played with them all."
"I need some new thing with which I can enthrall."
And he moaned and he whined and he stayed all blue.
And so ends the tale of Thnickery Bloo of Floo.

Mobster Jargon

"Louie Fatoni! You said you had a new recruit for us 'reputable businessmen?'" the Don said.

"Yeah, my little brother, Joey 'The Snitch' Fatoni. I believe he will be a valuable asset to our 'enterprise.'"

The Don looked about nervously, "And how did your brother acquire the nickname: 'The Snitch?'"

"Oh, he loves those Harry Potter books."

The Don relaxed a bit, "So it's not because he'll sing or anything?"

"He won't be singing, boss. My little brother can't carry a tune in a bucket."

"No, I'm asking you if he'll snitch."

"Boss, it ain't real. It's just a kid's book."

The Clay Brothers . . . on the Moon!

"Is this your first time visiting the moonbase?"

"Hardly," said a middle-aged Frankie Clay, half of the folksong duo re-invented for the 1970's, The Clay Brothers, "Fifth time."

"No," inserted Rickie Clay, "That time in '73 we only orbited the moon."

"Oh, right."

Agent Jackson stared in disbelief, "Well, it's my first time. . ."

"So what's the situation? Reds? Moonmen? Robot Insurrection?" Rickie asked.

"Weren't you briefed?"

Frankie shrugged, "They all blur together when you've done this as long as we have."

Jackson tried to change the subject, "Don't you guys have a monkey?"

"We don't talk about 'Nam," Rickie said blankly.

~~~
More adventures of The Clay Brothers

Part of a Balanced Breakfast

"I hate breakfast," one of a group of kids sighs as she pokes at her oatmeal.

Suddenly a big cartoon ship crashes into the kitchen!

"Ahoy there, kiddies! Try Admiral Breakfast's Kid Crunch Breakfast Cereal!" Admiral Breakfast announces.

"Crunchatize us, Admiral!" the kids shout in unison. The kids are transformed into the distinctive shapes of Admiral Breakfast's Kid Crunch Breakfast Cereal and are then poured into a bowl.

Admiral Breakfast takes a bite and proclaims, "Mmm! Kidtastic! Part of a balanced breakfast!"

The lights turn back on in a boardroom as the commercial ends.

"Did Admiral Breakfast . . . just eat those kids?"

The No-Vortex Zone with Bill McIrish

"Tonight, I interview one of the blowhards running for President of the Galactic Federation, Jorgan Skithypot. This is the "No-Vortex Zone" on the McIrish Factor!" The show's theme song played leading into the interview.

"Welcome, Space-Representative Skithypot," Bill McIrish was always friendly in the beginning.

"Pleasure to be here," said Skithypot in a tone that revealed quite the opposite.

"Let me get down to titanium bolts: Illegal dimensional immigrants. They're coming in from the theta dimension illegally, hurting the space-folks."

"I–"

"We have to send in the Galactic Guard! I'll let you have the last word."

"Well–"

"You're wrong!"

~~~
More stories concerning Galactic Federation Politics

From the Diary of a Yeti Hunter

Day 163:

They all called me crazy when I announced I was going to sell all of my possessions and make an expedition through the Himalayas to search for the elusive yeti. They are all going to eat those words!

. . . soon.

I know I am close! I can feel it. It is true that we ran out of rations almost fifty days ago, and it is true that all my native guides have either deserted or died.

But today I discovered very unusual tracks in the snow. The yeti seems to have taken to wearing boots. Same size as mine. Odd.

The Dark Page

Continued from yesterday's story "A Fateful Suggestion."
~~~

"In a city where evil has a pretty late bedtime," Fred Allen wheezed in his best chain-smoker movie announcer voice, "there is only one man who can put it to sleep!"

From the streets below a strange figure can be seen jumping from rooftop to rooftop, a black cape fluttering behind.

"I am the bat that comes swinging in the night, or perhaps it comes fluttering! You can't really know with homonyms unless you have some contextual clues. Hey, that's pretty good! I am the unknown homonym! Am I the bat, or am I the bat? Both! I am the Batboy!"

~~~
A sketch of Batboy!

A Fateful Suggestion

Dwayne Jackson arrived at the St. Louis Canaries training field having recently signed with the minor league baseball team. However, something seemed amiss.

"Who's that?" Dwayne asked one of the veteran players.

"That's our batboy."

"The overweight middle-aged guy?"

"Fred Allen owns the team–extremely wealthy–but he has a few eccentricities. Obsessive compulsive."

Fred Allen interrupted, "Hello, my good chums! Did you know that 'bat' can refer to this bludgeoning instrument or a flying mammal? Homonyms I hear they're called!"

"You should do something with that," Dwayne offered.

"Maybe I will," Fred said stroking his cleft chin, "Maybe I will."

~~~
This is part one of two of the Batboy saga. Stay tuned tomorrow! Same bat-time! Same bat-blog!

A Modest Proposal

"Senator Evans from Pennsylvania is recognized."

"Thank you, Mr. President. I would encourage all of my colleagues to give serious consideration to the pending legislation, S523: Engrave the Visage of Senator Evans on the Face of the Moon with a Giant Space Laser Act of 2008. Many have called this bill frivolous and vainglory. Many have accused me of egotism borderlining megalomania. I never once thought of myself while introducing this bill! I only thought of the countless generations of children around the world that will be comforted to sleep by the unending gaze of my face. Think of the children!"

Havlin Morrit -sketch-

A sketch of Havlin Morrit, the main character in "Entrance," and "Escalation."

The Sulk's River of Tears -sketch-

One of Sad Sulk's super-moves: River of Tears. As seen in "Lead Man vs. The Incredible Sulk."

Bradypus: King of the Sloths -sketch-

A sketch of the boy who was raised by sloths from "Bradypus: King of the Sloths."

Eighth Grade Poetry

Some poetry I wrote in eighth grade that I'm only half-embarassed by. Enjoy! :)
~~~

Ocean

As vast as the sky,
And as deep as outer space,
Comprehension fails.

River

The water flows by,
Through the town in the valley,
Raging forever.

Someone

Someone
Looks up at the moon
Somewhere
One night
To wonder why.

Return to Calvary

Did I die a year ago
Or was it yesterday
Anew my life began
On that dreadful day

Memories fade away

Returned to that awful place
For what must I atone
I asked but no reply
I was left alone

Tears dry and disappear

The bloodstains still remain there
Remnants of long ago
Or was it yesterday
I will never know

Wounds given scar and heal

But doubt still lingers on

Midnight Minstrel

Midnight minstrel
Playing a one-note song
Over and over again
All the night long
Rubbing the wings
Or the legs strong
'Til chance a female
Comes along
Captivated by
The insect song

Coffee Shop Girl

I've got a crush: coffee shop girl
She doesn't know I even exist
I'm just a name written on a cup
Along with my order as well

I try to speak but she just says
Please keep the line moving, order up
There is nothing more that I can do
Turn around and walk out the door

How can I get her to notice
Why can't I find the words I should say
Day after day it's the same, the same
I've got a crush: coffee shop girl

Untitled

What is going on
Where did all of this come from
What am I, what am I
What am I doing here
Why can't I just simply
Take one minute before
Everything I know is
Gone

Should've known from the start
Now I'm paying for it all
Couldn't be, couldn't be
Couldn't be, couldn't be now
Now I'm falling through a
Distant tunnel in a
Desp'rate groping for my
Heart

What am I searching for
Can I see it in the dark
Something, something
Something, something's wrong
It is not where I had
Left it before I had
Forgotten what it
Was

When Duty Calls

Cho-Cho the orangutan eeked out a satisfied grunt.

"You said it, Cho-Cho," said Rickie Clay, "Spending some much needed vacation time in the Bahamas was just what we needed."

"Look at that view," remarked Frankie Clay.

A small beeping noise coming from Rickie's duffle bag interrupted the pristine silence of the beach.

"You didn't shut off your top-secret communicator?" Frankie whined at Rickie.

Rickie turned on his communicator. "Clay Brothers! This is General Whitmore. I have an assignm–"

Cho-Cho squealed loudly and chucked the communicator into the ocean.

"You said it, Cho-Cho," Frankie said as he drifted off to sleep.

~~~
More adventures of The Clay Brothers

Escalation

Continued from "Entrance"
~~~

"I know you," a brash man sat next to the stranger.

The stranger said nothing.

"You're Havlin Morrit. You fought in the Continental War. War hero even."

"That was a long time ago," Havlin did not look up.

"Indeed. But it seems you've fallen from grace, Mr. Morrit. You have quite a bounty on your head–dead or alive."

The bartender cocked a shotgun, "No offense, Mr. Morrit. We appreciate your patriotism, but we sure could use that money." The other bar patrons produced hidden firearms of their own.

Havlin finished off his shot. "If that's how it's going to be. . ."

She's in Love with Her Broken Heart

She's in love with her broken heart
It never leaves her side
The only thing that she can count on
Beyond deep despair

She won't mend her broken heart
It's just easier that way
The pain of loss is more to bear
Than of loneliness

Oh, it's a shame
She opened her heart
Opened the door
Bearing her soul
But now it's smashed
It's broke in two
Never again
Never again

Others try to win that heart
But she won't let them near
She's just too much in love
With her broken heart

Oh, it's a shame
She opened her heart
Opened the door
Bearing her soul
But now it's smashed
It's broke in two
Never again
Never again

Guardian Angels

Two guardian angels entered the heavenly locker room at the same time.

"Hey, Gamaliel. You just got back from assignment?"

"Sure did, Hananel. I made sure he lived to a ripe old age."

"I hear performance reviews are coming up. If you keep this up, you're almost a shoe-in for a promotion."

"I don't like to brag, but this one's in the bag," Gamaliel made an imaginary free-throw shot. "Swoosh!"

"So who's your next assignment?"

"Some American kid. Those kids are so pampered! This will be like a vacation for me."

Later on earth. . .

"Hey! Let's go play in the Interstate!"

The Fairy and His Teefs

"Okay," said Timnur, "We have a popular mythical figure that will give you magical presents–no commitment! Even if you don't choose Smarnia as your fantasy escape, they will be yours to keep. Our gifts to you."

The children's eyes lit up imagining a jolly old elf.

However, that wasn't exactly who they got.

"I'm da toof fairy, but I ain't no fairy! Ya get me?" said the fat man in a tutu crusted with a collection of colorful stains. "And I gots presents for ya's, but first give me yer teefs!"

Timnur shook his head.

"Man, dats da best part . . ."

~~~
More stories from The Chronicles of Smarnia

The Case of the Conspiracy Theories

"What are you working on, O'Malley?" I said entering Shamrock's study.

"Well, Walton, you know that the smallest facts often lead to unraveling the most confusing cases?"

"Indeed. I read an article by Mr. Holmes about deciphering differences in tobacco ashes."

"Bah! How many people smoke in Victorian London? Seriously? No, I'm interested in profitable areas of investigation: Ascertaining Sasquatch hair!"

". . . Why?"

"Sasquatch attacks account for 87 percent of all homicides, but they hide by shaving and blending in with humans. Find the Sasquatch; find the murderer!"

O'Malley's 563 page treatise Discovering Hidden Sasquatches Among Us failed to find a publisher.

~~~
More cases from the files of Shamrock O'Malley

Alchemy Inspection

Willem, Chief Alchemist, had saved the best for last on the king's inspection of the Alchemy Workshop: the Lead-to-Gold Station.

"We have our fifty best alchemists working non-stop on the secret of turning lead into gold," Willem proudly announced.

"Impressive," said the king.

"Eureka!" shouted Alchemist 23, "I turned lead into goad!"

"Lead into what?" asked Willem.

"Goad. You know. A pointy stick to prod oxen?" the alchemist showed off his creation.

"Gold! Not goad you fool!"

"Oh . . ." the alchemist was dumbfounded, "So you don't want the goad?"

The king glared at Willem. The next day the Alchemy Workshop was closed.

Feel the Lovenstein

A visage of Space-Senator Vithor Lovenstein and the slogan "Feel the Lovenstein" was hung behind a podium. An enthusiastic crowd cheered as he approached the podium.

"I know that many of you have traveled a long distance to be here. I also know that it's a financial strain as dark matter prices have hit record levels. Some say that things like 'supply' and 'demand' and 'economics' hold the answers. Those are failed policies of the past which depended on 'science' and 'facts.' We need to instead let our emotions and feelings be our guide. Feel the Lovenstein!"

The crowd went wild.

~~~
More stories concerning Galactic Federation Politics

Charging Rhino

"Harry, get back into the jeep. You're not supposed to leave the vehicle during an African safari!"

"Aw shucks, Ellen. They're just animals."

Mbatu the safari guide spoke up, "Mr. Smith, please come back. There's a rhinoceros charging you!"

"That's not a problem. It just wants to play."

"Mr. Smith, I can assure you that the rhino does not want to 'play.'"

Mbatu and Ellen averted their eyes to save themselves from the impending impact, but no 'splat' sound came, just a strange deep purring.

"See!" shouted Harry, "He just wants his tummy scratched! Who's a good boy? Yes, you are!"

Merry-Go-Round Tussle

I quickly count the people standing in front of me. Thirty-seven not counting parents. That should place me near the front of the second bunch. Excellent.

The first group enters. Seven still in front of me. That girl in the curls may be a problem.

We're up! Let me through! Hurry it up!

I don't see it. It must be on the other side. No! The girl in curls is making a run for it! I'll just "accidently" push her over . . .

Success! Take that girl in curls! You can ride the bear that's bolted to the floor! The pink unicorn's mine!

The Castle of the Vam-Bot-Pire

Lightning ripped across the sky illuminating the vampire's castle. Outside stood four monster-hunters.

They were a media-savvy group containing the perfect mix of personality types to hopefully pick up a favorable news story or maybe a primetime TV show deal. There was the smart, tough old guy, the hot-head, the comic-relief, and the obligatory girl.

The old man sighed, "This will be a tough fight."

"No problem," said the hot-head, "I'll use my stake!"

"Stakes don't work against robot vampires!"

"A vam-bot-pire!? I didn't think those existed!" whined the obligatory girl.

"I'll wait for you guys out here," said the comic-relief.

Factor in Some Fun

Mr. Lambert's class was always a chore to sit through. It wasn't just because it was a math class. That was bad enough. But Mr. Lambert's way of trying to spice math up for us youngsters only made it worse.

"Come on, guys," Mr. Lambert said one day, "Math isn't supposed to be boring! It's supposed to be fun-ducational!"

The entire class groaned.

"Turn those frowns upside down," Mr. Lambert's smile never diminished, though it was obvious he was straining to keep it that way, "it's like the reciprocal of a fraction but for your face! It's math-tastic!"

Again, more groaning.

They'll Try to Slip Anything Past You

"This is a cozy little number. Two bedroom, two bath, nice location, convenient shopping nearby, haunted, large backyard," the realtor coughed as she said 'haunted.'

"What was that?" asked Mr. Hopewell.

"What was what?"

"That last thing you said."

"Large backyard?"

"No before that."

"Oh, that it's haaaaaauuuu-ndreds of square feet?" the realtor said with an unconvincing smile.

"You said it was haunted didn't you?" Mrs. Hopewell asked.

"Yes," the realtor sighed, "yes, it is."

Mr. Hopewell tapped his foot impatiently, "Who is it haunted by?"

The realtor looked away, "Axe-Murderin' Max. . ."

"Now apologize to Mrs. Hopewell."

"Sorry. . ."

"Now . . . how much?"

Lead Man vs. The Incredible Sulk

"Stop right there! You've devastated downtown with your whining!" declared Lead Man to the lumbering mass of blue-colored muscle.

"BUT SULK SAD!" The Incredible Sulk cried rivers of tears and pounded on a nearby building.

Lumbering toward the Sulk, Lead Man drew back his arm for a punch. However, he found himself caught in the river of tears causing his armor to rust. Lead Man creaked to a halt.

"FUNNY!" laughed the Sulk as he turned yellow to mirror his feelings.

"Look what you did to my suit you bi-polar brute!"

The Sulk frowned and turned red. "SMASH MEAN MAN!"

"Uh-oh."

~~~
More adventures of the Impregnable Lead Man

Awesome Girlfriend

I was out pile-driving stegosauruses for an extreme workout when I heard a scream from somewhere out in the former downtown area. I say "former" because dinosaurs destroyed it after I accidently changed the future.

Anyway, I jumped in my souped-up 1973 Dodge Charger and put pedal to the metal. I found a hot chick being attacked by a pack of velociraptors. I took them out. How? By being awesome.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Carl Awesome: Dinosaur Hunter," I said.

"How appropriate."

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Amy Girlfriend."

"How appropriate."

And that's how I got a girlfriend. Awesome out.

~~~
Other Carl Awesome: Dinosaur Hunter stories

A Conversation with Myself

"Did you ever notice that a lot of my 101 word short stories are just conversations?" I asked myself.

I replied, "Yes, I was beginning to notice that. Why do you do that?"

"I've found that 101 words are very limiting. Every word needs to count, and oftentimes to get a fully realized story, descriptions need to be cut down."

"So then why conversations?" I asked knowing the reply.

"Conversations convey a story while letting the reader fill in the gaps with their own imagination! It's magic!"

"One more question: Don't these short conversations usually end on an anti-climatic note?"

"Yes."

The Choice

Once upon a time there was a princess who ruled in place of her bedridden father. She ruled ably, but as her father worsened her burdens increased.

Then one day a wizard appeared before the princess. "I foresee that the king shall surely die tonight, and you shall become queen and your reign shall be long, and you shall be remembered in history centuries from now. Or I can heal your father, and he will live but shall lose his kingdom, and you shall never be queen."

Years later on a quiet mountainside a father and daughter lived happily ever after.

The Museum of Idiots

"This a very interesting piece. It's from the fifth century BC. We believe it to be a 'back-scratcher' used by Socrates himself." The museum curator held up an ordinary looking tree branch. The visitors marveled.

One of the visitors raised a hand, "Are you quite sure that that stick was used by Socrates?"

"Quite."

"And how do you know?"

"Well, his name is carved into it."

"And how do you explain the leaves still clinging to stick?"

The curator chuckled, "Well, because it comes from a tree, and trees have leaves. Duh."

"You just picked that up outside, didn't you?"

". . . Yes."

Hillbilly Philosophy

"'Ey, Jim Bob?"

"Yeah, Cletus?"

"Ya ever think that maybe we hain't lived up ta our po-tan-tial?"

"How ya mean, Cletus?"

"Well, I was thinkin' maybe I shoulda gone on ta second grade. Maybe with an ed-gee-kay-tion I wouldn't be 'worr'in' so much about Mex-ee-kans takin' my jobs."

"That shore is dangerous talk, Cletus. Bein' interspective 'bout yer own short-comin's rather than blamin' others based upon nation o' origin might jus' get ya thrown outta the gentleman's club."

"I know but didn' Gee-zis say, 'Pull the plank outta yer own eye first?'"

"Cletus, I ain't seein' no plank in yer eyes."

Working Undercover for the Man

"Rickie, Frankie," General Whitmore greeted the Clay brothers. Cho-Cho, the brothers' drummer/orangutan, grunted in dissatisfaction. "You, too, Cho-Cho," Whitmore smiled only a second and returned to his expressionless glare.

"We're in the middle of a tour, General," whined Frankie.

"Sorry boys. We have information that Khrushchev has hired an East German assassin to take out Vice President Nixon as he attends your concert tonight. It will be your job to protect the Vice President and eliminate the assassin." Whitmore passed over a photo. "Her name is Heidi Klaus."

"Why do they always have to be pretty?" Rickie asked with a sigh.

~~~
More adventures of The Clay Brothers

The Last Haggle -sketch-

A sketch of the "The Last Haggle." The four children stand by the give way sign (as close as I could get it to what the sign would look like in WWII era Britain), and Timnur the Faun and Deity-Allegory-Lion discuss how best to keep them in Smarnia.

The Last Haggle

Timnur and Deity-Allegory-Lion had a side discussion as the four children waited by the give way sign in the middle of the forest clearing.

"They say they're really not impressed with Smarnia," Timnur said.

"Well did you try to sweeten the deal?" asked Deity-Allegory-Lion.

"I offered them the opportunity to be dukes and duchesses of Smarnia."

"That sounds pretty good. They didn't like that?"

"They said they got an offer from some other fantasy realm to be kings and queens."

Deity-Allegory-Lion cringed, "That will be hard to match."

"So what do we do?"

"How about magical items? Kids like those, right?"

~~~
Illustration

More stories from The Chronicles of Smarnia

Reasonable Doubt

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I am frankly embarrassed by my colleague, the prosecuting attorney. You must have proof beyond a reasonable doubt and he's failed to provide that. Forget the overwhelming 'evidence' that my client 'premeditated' the murder of twenty-seven people, the reports of him laughing gleefully as he committed his heinous acts unimaginable to humankind, and the watertight testimony of thirteen independent witnesses. Maybe it was all one big misunderstanding, huh? Maybe it was self defense when he slowly tortured that group of pacifistic Buddhist monks. I don't know. Do you know? That's reasonable doubt right there, buddy."

Entrance

The bar fell silent as the old man walked in. He was a tall man with long white hair and a broad-brimmed hat hid the features of his face. His clothes, while gentlemanly had been well worn and were bespeckled with all manner of long-dried remains of mud and clay. A rifle was strapped to his back.

The bartender motioned to a sign that read Check Firearms at the Door. The man removed the rifle and left it at the door. The bar-patrons returned to their previous engagements and the man sat at the bar. "Whiskey," he ordered without looking up.

The Case of the Clueless Detective

Before Shamrock O'Malley and I lay a man, Mr. Jacob Hathaway, dead in the middle of his study. He had been stabbed in the small of the back with an intricately carved knife of Oriental origin. However, he had been found with all the doors and windows of the study locked from the inside. How could a murder take place within a locked room?

"I'm certainly confounded," I confessed.

"It's elementary, my dear Walton."

"Go on then, Shamrock."

"Space aliens did this. Yes. Space aliens and magic."

I later heard that some upstart from Baker Street actually did solve the case.

Bradypus: King of the Sloths

Professor Cornwall St. Francis had been trekking through the jungles of Panama when he came across a boy hanging in the trees.

"Hello there, young man," cried the professor in the local dialect.

The boy slowly turned his head, "I'm Bradypus, King of the Sloths! I was raised by a pack of sloths after being abandoned by my parents."

"A pack of sloths? You know those are predominantly solitary creatures, right?"

"Silence! Your 'man-logic' confuses and frightens me! Behold as I counter it with what I have learned from my sloth-parents!" Bradypus took a leaf and began to chew it slowly.

The Curious Case of Mr. Sambrook

"I can't believe I've been waiting thirty minutes for an interview."

The manager poked around the corner. "Mr. Sambrook, would you follow me to my office?"

"Sure thing. Finally!"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing . . . Boy, that was close."

The manager turned around, "Do you seriously want this job?"

"What do you mean?"

"You make smart-aleck remarks whenever I say anything."

Mr. Sambrook's face instantly conveyed shock, "Why I never! I'll have you know I have a legitimate medical condition that leaves me unable to internalize my thoughts! Shall I report this disability discrimination to the EEOC?"

"No, sorry, I didn't realize–"

"Jerk."

Marked 'Return to Sender'

My Beloved John,

I have recently taken to walks along the country path we once walked as children. I often sit underneath the large oak tree for hours and think of you.

Mother seems to have finally gotten over her flu. She scared us there for a while. I read to her the parts of your letters asking of her and she smiles.

I pray night and day that this infernal war would come to an end. Not only for peace's sake, but also so I might see you and once again be held in your warm embrace.

Yours Forever,
Jenny

Enter Le French Stereotype

"Stop right there, Le French Stereotype," Lead Man's voice reverberated inside his helmet.

"Sacrebleu!" said a man in a beret and a striped shirt, "You will never stop me, Lead Man! It is too late! Oh-hoh-hoh!"

The two men stood poised on the roof of the Oldies 95 station.

"I have already coupled my 'French-ifying' Ray with le radio tower! Soon all the citizens of St. Louis shall become French wussies! Oh-hoh-hoh!"

"Not on my watch!" Lead Man let fly a fist, but was blocked by a stale piece of French bread.

"You see, I am just full of surprises, non?"

~~~
More adventures of the Impregnable Lead Man

Sketch of Le French Stereotype

Awesome Story

I'm Carl Awesome. I used Professor Brainly's time machine to travel back to dinosaur times. Brainly warned me not to touch anything because it would disrupt the space-time continuum or something like that. I wasn't really paying attention. In retrospect I probably shouldn't have stepped on that primitive mammal . . . or sucker-punched that triceratops. What can I say, though? My name's Awesome. I have a reputation to keep.

So I return and find civilization's on the brink of collapse because now dinosaurs live in our time. Now I'm Carl Extreme Awesome: Dinosaur Hunter. Oh, did I mention my middle name is Extreme?

Willy the Kid

"All right, this is a stick-up! Everybody on the ground!"

"Billy the Kid!" whispers echoed among the small-town bank patrons.

"Willy! I'm Willy the Kid! I was doing this outlawin' stuff before Henry McCarty was in short pants!"

"Then is the 'the Kid' moniker really applicable to you?" asked a random man from the bank crowd.

Willy the Kid growled with anger, but before he could respond the front door of the bank burst open. The sheriff stood there with a shotgun ready.

"All right, Billy the Kid, just come quietly and I will guarantee you a fair trial."

"Willy! Willy!"

They Call Them the Funnies

Thomas laughed out loud, "Oh, that Garfield! You really don't like Mondays do you? Oh ho ho!"

Thomas's wife, Sally, looked over at him from across the breakfast table. "Are you seriously laughing at a Monday-joke in Garfield?"

"Well, I don't like Mondays, so I feel a connection with this comic as if we are star-crossed souls on a–"

"It's just the same Garfield comic that has been running for over twenty years only slightly different!"

"You just don't understand me!"

"Fine!" Silence reined the breakfast nook for a few moments.

"Oh, Marmaduke! You think you're people! Oh ho ho!"

The Space-Debates

"We turn now to politics," said B'jnktl the news-alien, "Since the Superior Space-Court ruled the use of compulsory-brain-implant-obedience-chip's illegal in campaigns, President Zoron Google-Bronx has had to wage a more traditional campaign against rivals Vithor Lovenstein and Jorgan Skithypot.

"A more traditional campaign means the presidential space-debates begin tonight. Now merely a formality, the debates are derived from ultra-ancient history when candidates would display their leading prowess in a submission-rules steel-cage wrestling match.

"Vithor Lovenstein had this to say:"

"Google-Bronx, I will break every bone in your body until you cry 'space-uncle!'"

B'jnktl added, "Of course, the traditional locker-room pre-debate banter."

~~~
More stories concerning Galactic Federation Politics

Moonlight Dancing

Two friends sat under a tree on a clear summer night. They gazed upon the innumerable stars and the stars gazed back. The moon, full and bright, cast a heavenly glow upon the grass and flowers of the clearing before them.

She stood and walked out onto the clearing. "What are you doing?" he asked, but no reply was given. She began dancing.

She danced in the moonlight, with the moonlight, silent and beautiful. If the night lasted forever, she would have danced forever. He wished the sun would never rise again, because in that moment he realized he loved her.

Chalk Rock

I stared in amazement as a seemingly normal rock was used to write on the ground as if it were chalk. "Chalk rock," the kid explained to me.

Later that day I had converted my younger brother to the wonders of "chalk rock," and we began searching for these hidden miracles of nature. A short search later we discovered rocks that left white marks in the driveway. Knowing that chalk can wash off, I proceeded to "chalk up" the family car, my brother following suit. My kindergarten mind had it all figured out.

Needless to say, my father was not impressed.

The Chronicles of Smarnia

"We know you have your choice of fantasy realms to escape to from the horrors of war-torn Britain, but I think you will find you cannot beat Smarnia," said the slightly overweight faun, Timnur, to the four children.

"We have your standard talking animals, mythological creatures, etcetera, etcetera." Timnur motioned to two seedy looking dwarfs on a cigarette break.

"We also have a deity-allegory-lion for moral lessons." He turned around motioning to a lion.

"'Sup?" said the deity-allegory-lion.

"What about a dental plan?" asked Linda.

"Oh, it's excellent, as long as you don't mind a woodpecker as dentist."

"We'll keep looking."

Wrongly Rendered

The judge received the verdict from the jury. He gave a sigh. What does that mean? Is it good or bad?

"Has the jury reached a verdict?"

"We have your honor."

"What say you?" Here it comes.

"We, the members of the jury, find the defendant guilty," a brief pause, "on all counts."

What? No!

"Mr. Landon, you are hereby sentenced–" No! "–to life in prison–" This can't be happening! "–without the possibility of parole."

"But I didn't do it!" The bailiffs carried me off in handcuffs. "I didn't do it! I'm innocent!"

I didn't do it…

Clearly Not Insanity

I'm not crazy. Just ask anyone–anyone besides my doctor. He doesn't know what he's talking about. The man living inside the wall told me. My doctor keeps telling me that I shouldn't be hearing these voices. Well, he should just tell the man in the wall to stop talking to me. I don't control him.

My food talks to me, and for a while I just could not bring myself to eat anything. Not because I thought it was still alive. That's silly. No, what the food said was extremely interesting. Nobody explains Nietzsche like a bowl of tomato soup.

The Clay Brothers and Cho-Cho, Too!

"We have you now 1956-teenage-singing-sensation 'The Clay Brothers,'" said the man with an incredibly forced Russian accent, "or should I say, 'undercover CIA operatives?'"

"Well this is a fine mess you've gotten us into now, Frankie," said Rickie.

"How was I supposed to know that one girl backstage was a commie spy?" retorted Frankie.

"The thick Russian accent for starters!" yelled Rickie.

"You will be, how you say, shutting up!" said the KGB agent. "Any last words before I dispose of you?"

"Yeah," said the Clay brothers, "Meet Cho-Cho!"

"Cho-Cho?"

Cho-Cho, the Clay Brothers' semi-literate orangutan and drummer, attacked from above.

One-Man Submarine

I crew a one-man submarine, serving some purpose for some higher authority that cannot tell me why I'm all alone. My job, as far as I can tell, is maintaining the submarine I work in, which I am keen to do since I live within said submarine.

Occasionally I will look through the periscope, and see other boats or islands filled with people, enjoying one another's company. Sometimes I picture myself among them, having a great time. Then I realize I've been dreaming. Why did this have to be a one-man submarine? It could have easily held two, maybe a few.

George the Self-Aware Zombie

"You ever get the feeling like all this 'feasting on the flesh of the living' may end up being detrimental to the stability of society as we know it?" George the self-aware zombie offered as general conversation to his fellow zombies as they munched on the remains of a CPA.

"Braaaaainsssss," came the standard zombie reply to any of George's inquiries.

George continued as if it was a legitimate answer to his question. "I just don't know if this gluttonous and decadent lifestyle we have for ourselves is sustainable. Eventually the living will become a scarcity."

"Brrrrrainnnss," replied the other zombies.

A Dangerous Business, Flying

You think that pilots shouldn't be allowed to carry firearms onto planes? Well, then you're either a pompous bureaucrat or deluded hippie. Spend one day in a pilot's shoes, and you'll be singing a different tune.

Just last week I piloted Flight 827: non-stop service from Minneapolis to Denver. We were attacked by cockpit ninjas. My co-pilot, Charlie, may he rest in peace, never had a chance. No firearm. I told the passengers we were experiencing turbulence. They never knew I was fighting off seven ninjas all while Charlie died in my arms.

It's a dangerous business flying a commercial aircraft.

The Impregnable Lead Man

Evil doers beware, for a new superhero protects the fair city of St. Louis.

Ordinary citizen and car mechanic, Antony Chumbo, was kidnapped by the mob and ordered to make them a really super-cool getaway car. While being held in a damp underground parking lot, Chumbo developed a severe case of a rare form of athlete's foot.

Using his skills as a car mechanic, Chumbo crafted for himself a suit of armor from miscellaneous car parts and power tools to stop the spread of the fungal outbreak, and teach those mobsters a lesson.

You can't stop the impregnable Lead Man!

~~~
And a special bonus sketch of Lead Man!

Art Imitates Life

I sat at my computer pounding my face into the keyboard.

"It just won't come! The words, they will not come!" I muttered to myself in between face-to-keyboard poundings.

For the past several days, each 101 word short story I wrote came very easily and was done within thirty minutes. But I had been sitting here for over 2 hours, and I still did not have anything.

"Where do the words come from?" I asked to no one.

Then it hit me. My particular situation had all the drama and intrigue of a 101 word short story. I finished another story.

Jack the Lion Tamer

Jack the lion tamer had become bored with his job. "There's just not enough excitement in lion taming," he would say.

This would generally come as a shock to the listener. "How can lion taming lack excitement with nothing but a whip and a chair to separate you from certain death?"

"Yes, well," Jack would say, "it has somehow lost its pizzazz."

Jack's show had also lost its pizzazz, and the 2:30 crowd became disgruntled and bum-rushed the stage, provoking the lions to attack.

Jack could not remember the last time he was so excited. Then he was mauled to death.

Man's Inhumanity

Going for a different tone than in my first two short stories.
~~~

Thunder rolled through the valley as the procession marched toward the clearing. In the lead, a small girl, held high for all to see, crying.

In the midst of the clearing was laid a sacrificial pier, reaching upward to the crackling heavens. A virgin sacrifice must be made, or so was thought. Silently, the mob gathered round. The girl, now struggling but in vain, is tied to the center stake.

A fire lit, burning, blazing. The monstrous deed was done.

Rain begins to pour down from the heavens. The people perceive it as a blessing, when the skies are really weeping.

Inspired by Haylea

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Winston Rutherford III, the wealthiest landowner in all of Hertfordshire, as well as completely unattached, should have fit this universal truth quite splendidly.

It was not that he was unopposed to the idea of marriage at all. It is just really hard to be taken seriously when you claim there is a little green floating man following you around that only you can see. Most women feel they can do better than Mr. Rutherford and the Great Gazoo.

President Google-Bronx

"Four more standard star-orbit-revolution-units! Four more standard star-orbit-revolution-units!" cried the masses supporting Galactic Federation president, Zoron Google-Bronx.

President Google-Bronx took the holographic podium transmitting from an undisclosed alternate dimension. "My fellow Federationists, I accept your nomination! With your help, we will continue the change we began four standard star-orbit-revolution-units ago!" Cheers rose like an exploding supernova from the convention floor.

"But just to make sure, I am engaging the compulsory-brain-implant-obedience-chip." The cheers immediately ceased and were replaced by the collective hum of the chips. Google-Bronx's hologram transmission ended, and the delegates silently left the convention in single-file.

Long live President Google-Bronx!

One Sentence Short Stories

"Don't push that button," were his last words, but for a completely unrelated reason.

Clanging church bells; how long had it been since I heard that sound?

The thunderous roar of the charging Tyrannosaurus Rex told Marty that the time travel experiment was both a success and a failure.