Too Much Thinking

He could not believe it. The time had finally come. He had prepared his whole adult life for this very moment, and now it was here. There were times when he doubted, when he did not really believe this time would ever come. Now he knew it was not all in vain. He congratulated himself on sticking with it all these years. This was going to be his finest moment.

Or it would have been his finest moment if he had not spent so much time thinking about the fact that the time had finally come. It slipped right by him.

Toni

The silence was so thick it laid itself out like the dust and grime of decades of neglect. The silence was so silent it was maddeningly deafening.

Finally, Toni broke.

"I can't take it any more!" she yelled and jumped out the window. Broken bits of glass, as well as Toni's body, rained down on the streets below.

Nancy cursed at the red light which refused to turn green, despite having been waiting at the light for well over 17 seconds. Her air bags deployed 62 milliseconds after Toni's body hit the hood of her car.

Elsewhere some music played absently.

The Expungicator

"But Mom, she said that if we don't follow her then we'll have to face a post-apocalyptic nightmare-ish world where I'm fighting robots for survival."

"It," said Julie.

"What?"

"It's a robot. It just looks like a she, but it's an it," Julie said in a stoic manner looking off into a random corner of the room, "and don't you forget it."

"But Mom," Harry seemed to start most all of his sentences with those two words these days, "I sent her—sorry, it—from the future back to help us."

"It's still an Expungicator and can't be trusted!"

"But Mom . . ."

~~~
More from Expungicator: The Julie Reid Chronicles

The Lone Rider

A lone rider came up from the east.

Farmer Territ hailed the rider, "I pray thee, good sir, what news from the city of Dunwynn?"

The rider wore dirty rags as clothing and cheeks were sunken in from malnutrition. "Dreadful tidings, my lord. Barbarians attacked from the north and have completely razed the city."

"What of the citizenry?"

"I do not know, my lord. I saw a great flame upon Dunwynn. I fear that I am one of only a few who escaped the wrath of Warlord Hazon."

Territ paced about, "My brother and his family lived in Dunwynn."

"My condolences."

Humdrum Jury

Judge Nelson banged his gavel. "Is this trial boring you?" he asked the jury.

Half the jury was in various stages of falling asleep. None was paying attention to the trial.

Judge Nelson motioned to the bailiff who pressed a small button on the wall which immediately sent an electric shock through the jury box. They were paying attention now.

"I can't imagine why you're not interested. The defendant's name is Axe-Murderin' Max for goodness sake."

"It was a childhood nickname, not a confession!" cried Max to which the judge shrugged.

Half the jury returned to their various stages of sleep.

Warzone

A barrage of explosions had dulled all sounds including their own into one low dull hum. From his foxhole Gene looked up to the pristine blue sky. For a moment he was home laying on the hill out back, looking up at the sky miles and years away from any battle or bloodshed. He focused on a cloud convinced that with enough concentration he would be transported back to that hill.

Sergeant O'Keefe's face blocked out the cloud. He yelled something, but the dull hum in Gene's ears continued.

The next moment, Gene woke up two weeks later in a hospital.

Too Many Superheroes Spoil the Save

"Help!" cried a woman tied to an overhanging pole several stories above the streets of St. Louis.

"Fear not, citizen!" came a cry from the rooftop. "Batboy is here to rescue you."

Suddenly, Lead Man flew up to the victim. "Do you acquire my assistance?"

"Lead Man?" Batboy yelled down, "Don't you dare! This is my win!"

"SULK SAVE WOMAN!" yelled Sulk from the streets below.

"I have jet boots," said Lead Man, "I can just help her right now."

"Don't you dare," Batboy yelled, "I'll save her . . . as soon as I figure out how to get down there."

"SULK HELP!"

~~~
More adventures of the St. Louis Superheroes!

(I Just) Died in Your Arms Tonight

"Here I am. Rock you like a hurricane," were the first words out of Dillon's mouth.

"Are you serious? Eighties song lyrics?" Chloe was not impressed.

Dillon shrugged, "Get outta my dreams. Get into my car!"

In desperation Chloe scrambled for the emergency revolver hidden in the desk drawer. If ever there was an emergency that demanded violence as the solution, this was it. The gun leapt into her hand and—

BANG!

"W-what have I done?" Chloe voice quivered in shock.

Dillon looked down at his bleeding wound, "Shot through the heart, and you're to blame. You give love a bad—"

BANG!

The Problem with Roommates

"Guys, seriously, keep it down. I'm trying to get some sleep," that was the third time Alex had come into the living room, "I have to go to work in the morning. Show a little courtesy, huh?"

"Well, we're trying to watch a movie, here," said James, "Why don't you show us some courtesy?" James high-fived Derrick.

"I am trying to courteous, but do you guys have to turn it up so loud? There's a bunch of explosions and people yelling at each other."

"We're just trying to view the movie as the director intended: Extremely loud. Do you mind!?"

"S-sorry."

American Health Insurance

"And your weight?"

"223 pounds," answered Chuck.

Alyson, the health insurance agent sucked in air from clenched teeth.

"What? Is that bad?"

"Well, it's not definitely good. Your height-weight ratio is off. We only insure healthy people. Insuring people who actually need health insurance doesn't cover the bottom line, you understand."

"Do you only insure professional athletes or something?"

The agent laughed, "We would never insure an athlete: too prone to injury. Anyway, there are several questions we still need to answer. Smoker?"

"No."

"Drink alcohol?"

"No."

"Does your body produce an excessive amount of earwax?"

"How much is 'excessive?'"

"Any."

One Sentence Story Collection X

I fell asleep to the sound of rain outside.

She stood at the pier waiting for his return, but his ship never returned.

Half the stores at the mall were shuttered and empty; the other half was halfway there.

I booed the boo-er, but it just sounded like I was agreeing with him.

The remains of the rose she gave me were pressed between the pages of a book I once had given her.

The Dragon and the Hippogriff

The dragon sat atop his treasure that he had accumulated over the years: gold, jewels, magical as well as non-magical armor and weapons, and priceless artifacts all in one huge pile lined with the charred remains of many a daring adventurer ill-prepared to fight the ancient fearsome beast.

His buddy the hippogriff came by to visit, "Yo! What up, Drags? Nice pile! Add to it recently?"

"Nah," the dragon replied, "I think for the first time in my life, I feel I have enough stuff."

The hippogriff started, "You be straight up trippin'!"

"I seriously don't understand you half the time."

Monty Python References

"Hey, Greg, what is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?"

"What do you mean, Paul? An African or a European swallow?"

"I don't know that!" At this point Greg and Paul burst into fits of uproarious laughter.

"Hey guys," said Abe who happened to be standing nearby, "what's so funny?"

Greg and Paul gasped in unison.

"What? Did I say something wrong?"

"He doesn't know," said Greg.

"Of the quest for the Holy Grail," continued Paul.

"You guys are starting to freak me out," Abe began to back away.

"Ni!" cried Paul.

Greg echoed, "Ni!"

"Ni! Ni! Ni!"

Abe cried.

Kylee

Kylee reached out and touched the sky, which was a bright orange and had the viscosity of Jello. She brought her finger back to her mouth to taste it. Sky-y. She didn't know that was a flavor until now.

"This must be what it's like to be on drugs," she said to no one.

No One answered, "No. You've entered Dimension Q where our skies are orange and taste-able."

"So I'm not on drugs?"

No One laughed. "Oh my, yes, very much so."

Kylee began to whistle.

No One said nothing.

"Did you say something?" Kylee asked.

No One said, "Nothing."

Kali

Kali knew where to find Hal. He often spent evenings on Lookout Hill. She sat down next to him. He continued to gaze at the stars.

"Pretty, aren't they?" Kali asked.

"What? Oh, the stars. Yes. Yes they are."

Kali saw Hal deep in thought, but said nothing.

"I don't think I'll be here much longer," Hal said, "The village, I mean."

Kali held back tears. She had prayed this day would never come.

"Come with me, Kali."

Kali's heart pounded in her chest. "Yes! Yes!" it cried, but before it could reach her lips, her head intervened. "I—I can't."

A Psalm

I will praise the Lord in my tribulation,
For He has already saved me.

Where is the one who would do me harm?
He attacks with fists and guns.

He tells falsehoods against my name;
Let him tell his lies to God.

My body is broken; my name suffers.
Still will I call upon the Lord.

I pass through the flame as gold,
And I become strong.

I struggle in the cocoon of a moth,
And I learn to fly.

The winds and waves crash upon the tree,
But it stands the test of time.

I will praise the Lord in my tribulation,
For a home with Him is mine.

Jerrod

"You're not perfect, Jerrod," they had said, "We know it's hard to hear, but it's the truth. You should seek out some help."

A few weeks later Jerrod returned. "I have sought help, and I have improved, have I not?"

"You have," they said, "but the times you do well must be because of the help you sought. So in a way you haven't really improved at all."

Jerrod wished he had asked, "Why can't you just accept that I've improved because I sought help?"

"Then that would mean we'd have to change our opinion of you," was their imagined reply.

Josmar

"I had a revelation," Josmar said with righteous fervor, "from God." He spread out his fingers and raised his eyebrows as he said 'God' as if explaining a new concept to a three-year-old. "You know. The man upstairs? If he tells you something you do it."

"So let me get this straight," Secretary Garcia sighed, "God told you to hijack an airplane because that somehow would get you an audience with President Calderon to warn him about an earthquake?"

"Right."

"Did you consider you might just be crazy?"

Josmar sat silent for a moment. "I need to rethink my life."

"Si."

~~~
Based on a true story!

Before a Joint Session of Space-Congress

Galactic Federation President Vithor Lovenstein stood before the joint session of Space-Congress to make his case for Universal Health Care.

"I have provided a simple 1,265,777,879,632 step plan that guarantees health coverage for all Galactic Federation citizens (as well as certain sentient trees and large bushes). This plan will not cover illegal dimensional immigrants—"

"Liar!" yelled Space-Representative Yancy Gothman (Asteroidican-SX). "Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!"

"Look," Lovenstein rebutted, "My pants are clearly not on fire. You're the liar."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yes-huh!"

"I am rubber, you are super-space-adhesive! Whatever you say bounces off me and permanently adheres to your surface!"

Lovenstein growled.

~~~
More stories concerning Galactic Federation Politics

Yesterday

Autumn morn
Just the same
Could not see
What became

Carry out
Evil plan
Towers burst
Into sand

Lonely heart
Empty soul
Cannot feel
Anymore

Kindness said
Heartfelt sigh
Helping hand
Knowing cry

Eight years past
Still feels like
Yesterday
In my mind

If You Give a Rhinoceros a Cookie

If you give a rhinoceros a cookie, he's going to want all of your cookies. All of them. Rhinos don't mess around when it comes to cookies. You'll be all like, "Hey, those are my cookies!" But he'll be like, "I'm a rhino. What're you gonna do about it?" Then you'll be cookieless.

But it doesn't stop there. After the rhinoceros takes all your cookies, then he's going to take your milk. Again, all of it. The entire gallon. Then he'll burn down your house, because he happens to also be an arsonist.

As rhinoceroses go, you picked a nasty one.

Biblical Puns

The sermon (thankfully) started off relatively normal by Pastor Sciutto's standards. It was nice and simple: Noah's Ark.

"God told Noah to build an ark," with a wry smile crossed Pastor Sciutto's face as he opened his homily, "So Noah told his sons, 'Boys, go for wood!'"

Absolute silence followed.

"Get it? 'Go for' wood? The Bible said Noah built the ark out of gopher wood. Go for? Gopher? It's a pun. Anybody?"

One guy in the congregation coughed uncomfortably.

"Ahem," Pastor Sciutto shuffled his papers, "Anyway, you should really get saved."

This was going to be a long Sunday morning.

~~~
Other stories with Pastor Sciutto

Scott

Scott had stopped running his fingers through his hair altogether. He had convinced himself that that was the only reason he was losing any hair: the gentle brush of finger to scalp.

Combs and brushes were obviously forbidden as well.

It was never a big deal early in life. A hand through the hair might produce one or two stray strands every once in a while, but no longer. Now it would be as if his hand was wearing a wig, a wig of his own hair.

Certainly it would all stay on his head if it was never touched again.

Understanding

If I only understood the world in black and white,
Would the world pass me by?
If I only saw sole value in utility,
Would I even see at all?

Why does the world only judge the surface?
What good has that ever done?
Why is it so hard to see what really matters?
Why are we all so blind?

True profit adds to the soul and not the bank account.
True value cannot be expressed in numbers.
True change comes from the heart and not mere action.
True sight is seeing that which is unseen.

One Sentence Story Collection IX

In an instant of momentary negligence I had irreparably scarred my one true friend leading to his irreversible yet untimely demise.

Through all the doubt, and all the pain and misery, there was a glimmering hint of happiness just around the corner, so she stayed.

Just over the next hill lay green pasture, a cool breeze, and an unending blue sky.

Silent waters hide aberrant creatures in their murky deep, seen only by eyes not long left to see.

Toodles Strunk

"Eww! That man smells like cat puke and pee!" That was one of the more kind remarks Toodles Strunk, professional vagabond, had received that day. Then it happened.

"Heysh, buddysh, thissh issh mysh alleyshwaysh nowsh," Sherman Herman from under the bridge two blocks down said.

"Whazzat?"

"Yoursh hobosh licensesh issh revokedsh. Yoush gottash becomesh ash productivesh membersh ofsh shoshietysh. Comessh fromsh thesh kingsh himshelfsh." Sherman Herman presented a wadded up napkin to Toodles.

The thought of going legit frightened Toodles Strunk almost as much as the plastic bag gnomes that visited him every night. "Hubbadub," he muttered and left his alley.

Shaving Gel

"Look at this! Are they seriously trying to sell this stuff to men!?"

"What is it now, Matthew?" Meredith was a patient woman by any stretch of the imagination, and Matthew tested it every waking (and occasionally non-waking) moment.

"Look at these shaving gels: Hydrating. Sensitive! Extra Sensitive!?" with each successive 'flavor' of shaving gel, Matthew's voice grew in intensity. "Are there no shaving gels for MEN?"

Meredith sighed, "If it's such a big deal to be manly, why not just shave without a gel or cream?"

"Oh!" Matthew cringed and rubbed his face. "But that would hurt!"

Meredith sighed again.

The Unwitting Badgey Artist- Part 2

Continued from "The Unwitting Badgey Artist"
~~~

"I just drew a guy in a military uniform!" Brian continued to protest.

"I know," said Mary. "And you drew him with a badge. So you're a badgey artist."

"Look," Brian pinched his nose and groaned, "I don't know who decided to take something that has been around for hundreds, if not thousands, of years, and turn it into an internet fetish movement."

"Oh it's not a fetish!" Mary corrected, ". . . unless you're into that kind of thing. But those are all badgey territory now. If you like it then you're a badgey."

"So if I like World War II movies?"

"Badgey."

The Unwitting Badgey Artist

"Hey, Brian, I didn't know you drew," Mary said, "Can I see?"

"I guess. It's just a sketch."

Mary's eyes grew wide with excitement, "You're a badgey, too!"

"A what?"

"Oh come on! Don't tell me you don't know what a badgey is."

Brian's blank stare signified he didn't.

Mary continued, "You drew this guy with a badge. You like badges on stuff. You're a badgey. Simple as that!"

"First: The guy's wearing a military uniform. Of course it'll have badges on it! Second: You just assume cause I drew a badge that I'm part of some weird internet movement?"

"Duh!"

Badgemonium

"Welcome to BADGEMONIUM, a weekly podcast dedicated to the badgey-fandom: the only podcast you need for all things wearing badges. The more the better! I'm Sergeant_at_Arms57."

"And I'm Frillybadge! There's a lot going on in the badgey community this week including a new badgey artist on deviantART, and we'll get to that in just a moment, but first we have a caller."

"Yeah. You guys dressing up like badges and doing freaky stuff is disgusting. Pervs!"

"Let me stop you right there, caller. You're referring to 'badge-suiters.' We're 'badgies.' We like badges on things, not dressing as badges. That's just disturbing."