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.