Mickey Bigtime's Big Score

Mickey Bigtime was out of jail. He was happy to be out of the slammer but he still had that itch.
"I gotta make a big score." he said to himself.

He called up Tony Titters, who always giggled.
"Hehe, what's happening Mickey Bigtime?" said Tony Titters.
"I'm lookin' to make a big score, you in?" asked Mickey Bigtime.
"Hehe, I don't know, I don't do that stuff no more." said Tony Titters.
"Are you sure? Gonna be a lotta money!" said Mickey Bigtime.
"Hehe, okay I'm in." said Tony Titters.
"Now we just need a team." said Mickey Bigtime.

Mickey Bigtime and Tony Titters started doing exercises to get ready. They did pushups to get strong and walked on their tiptoes to be dainty. The daintier they were the more quiet they could be when they were making their big score.

Next they called Clock Armstrong. He was the muscle of the group.
"I don't do that stuff no more." said Clock, on the telephone, as he lifted a free weight.
"It's gonna be some big money!" said Mickey Bigtime.
"Hehe." said Tony Titters, who was standing behind Mickey.
"Okay deal." said Clock. Then he hung up.

Next they went to Sheila Bottoms, the best safe cracker in the biz. Did I mention she was sexy too?!
"Sheila baby, we need ya for the team." said Mickey.
"No, Mickey, not after you broke my heart."
"You broke my heart, babe!"
"I'm out!" said Sheila.
"But no one cracks safes like you, you got the magic touch."
"I got a good business goin'."
"You stand to make a lotta money, off this." said Mickey Bigtime.
"Okay I'm in." said Sheila.

They had their team assembled. They planned to crack into the Nun School. There was a big safe with a lot of money there. That was their plan. They met a lot and fine tuned their plan. It seemed perfect. Then the day of the heist they all daintily tiptoed into the Nun School.

They were real quiet and dainty, like they'd rehearsed. They made it across the hall without a peep. Everyone was excited. Especially Tony Titters. Tony let out a little giggle, "Hehe." And before the whole group could shush him they were interrupted by an even louder "Shhhhhhhhhh!" coming from across the hall. It was Sister Mary Schusterman. The biggest shusher of them all. She was giving a big loud shush, sure to shake the school and all it's inhabitants. They'd been busted. What were they gonna do?

"Get her!" said Mickey Bigtime to Clock Armstrong.
Clock went in for the attack on Sister Mary Schusterman, and she pulled out a set of nunchucks because she was a Nun. She was good with 'em too. She beat up Clock Armstrong.
"You guys are in big trouble." said Sister Mary Schusterman.
"Whoa, whoa, Sister Mary, let's make a deal," said Mickey Bigtime, "Yeah, you caught us trying to break into the safe, but what if we let you in on this? It's gonna be a lotta money." he continued.
Sister Mary looked around, realizing this deal was too good to pass up, she tucked her nunchucks into her habit and said "Okay I'm in."

So Sheila and the team went to-a-drillin' on that Nun School safe. They rubbed their hands together with enthusiasm for all that money. Then the cops showed up.
"Freeze!"
"Hey cops, gonna be a lotta money, want a piece?" said Mickey.
"Okay!" said the cops.

Then Internal Affairs showed up.
"You're busted, you crooked cops!" they said.
"How bout a piece a the money?!" said Mickey.
"Ooh sounds good." said Internal Affairs.

Then the Mayor showed up and said, "Not in my city!"
"How bout a cut a some a this money!?" said Mickey.
"Make it a big cut and we got a deal." said Mayor.

Then the city showed up and said "Hey Mayor, you're corrupt!" Then Mickey Bigtime was like, "Gonna be a lotta money, city, you want in on this?"
"Okay" said the city.

Then the FBI showed up and said "Taking payments like that is against federal law." Then the Mayor was like "I'll do what I want it's my city, my voters. Back off, big government!" Then Mickey Bigtime was like "You want in? Gotta be a lotta money." And FBI was like "Yes."

Then they all went and hacked more into the Nun School safe, but the Vatican showed up and said "Hey, what are you doing that's Nun money!"
"You want a piece of this? Gonna be a lotta money!!" and the Vatican said "Okay sounds cool."

Then Jews showed up and said, "Hey listen, you need help managing that money? Someone's got to help you invest and keep it organized. We are only asking for a small percentage of each cut." The Jews stood to make a lot of money off each individual percentage, it was a wise investment of their time and work.
"That sounds reasonable." said Mickey Bigtime and everyone else, except this one white guy who said he didn't want no dirty Jew handling his money. This threatened to upend the whole heist situation.

"Listen white guy, you stand to make a lot of money off this thing, how bout it?" said Mickey.
"Okay sounds good." said the white guy.

The team was really big at this point. Everyone was working together. They cracked the safe and everyone got money and they shared all their tons of money and everyone was happy forever always, because of money.

With Passing Days

Alice and Thomas were a beautiful white couple. They wore pastel colors. Their hair was trimmed and hedged perfectly. Alice's with swirling unnatural curls that could only be achieved by frequent attention from a hair curler. They were white. Such a glorious perfect white. They loved each other dearly. Romance was a high priority. They had a brick fireplace in their home. They ate nice meals, cooked from perfect recipes.

"You're my everything." said Thomas.
"I was made for you." said Alice.

One of Alice and Thomas's favorite activities was to cuddle up together on a tall couch with many pillows and watch their favorite television program titled With Passing Days. It was a romance show. The characters of Travis and Kit, on the show, were perfect. Alice and Thomas were obsessed. They modeled their whole lives after these TV characters, Travis and Kit. Same clothes, same sunglasses, same simple problems to overcome. Alice and Thomas would get very upset for the episodes where the characters would have relationship troubles, but they were always happy when the characters wound up together and happy again at the end.

Across the country, on one of the coasts, in a stuffy television production office, Irwin Blurmenstein schvitzed over the completion of the latest draft of his episode of With Passing Days. He was integral to the character development of Alice and Thomas's favorite characters, Travis and Kit. He thought what he wrote was garbage. Irwin also had wet stains on his armpits, sweat speckles on his balding forehead, a crumb in his beard, and digestive trouble. Irwin packed up his typewriter and went home for the day.

Irwin walked into his home and was greeted by his wife Fran.
"You're a creative failure! And nothing you've ever written has been worth while!" said Fran.
"You think I don't know that?!" shouted Irwin.
"You're a pawn! They just push you back and forth!" said Irwin's wife.
"It's a living!" shouted Irwin.
"I'd be happier with drug money!" shouted Fran
"I'm gonna show you, Fran! You'll swallow those words and need a glass of wine to choke them down!" shouted Irwin.
"You think you're so poetic when you say things like that, don't you?"
"Yes!" said Irwin.
"Well guess what? I've been having an affair with a real man. He's a writer too. Better than you!"

In from the back walked Ted Crown, a television staff writer and co-executive producer on the acclaimed television show Lawyer Up. He was very slick.

"Hello Irwin. I'm moving in, you're moving out." said Ted Crown.

Meanwhile, back at Alice and Thomas's house there was big trouble. Alice was working on a casserole recipe and realized it called for more butter than she had. They did what Travis and Kit would have done and went to the highest rated restaurant in town for a wonderful evening.

Irwin was furious and upset. He went back to his office, because he had nowhere else to go. He stayed up all night slaving over a new draft of the episode. He wrote a love triangle episode where Travis and Kit's marriage fell apart because Kit cheated on Travis with a mysterious new character name Manuel. Subsequently, Travis realized he was homosexual. Irwin was not homosexual, but he was in the zone and thought it was an inspired idea. Irwin was certain this idea was too good to make it on air. Somehow, by a miracle, it did!

When the episode aired it destroyed everything Alice and Thomas knew. They could not comprehend it. Their marriage suffered quickly and fell apart. Irwin was let go at the end of the season.

Sharktime Jimmy the Roaster

Sharktime Jimmy was the king of the roasters. A roasting legend. He burned 'em left and right. He had a roast for every person! And he made a meal out of every roast.

One time a fat guy walked by, "Uh-oh, hide ya pudding!" he shouted. He saw a Chinese guy walk by a burger joint, "Sorry no chopstick!" He saw a black guy walk by, "Uh-oh my wallet is nervous!"

He roasted anything that came in his way. Even objects. "I turn you on, what do you do for me!?" he said to his television, as he sat in front of it. He even roasted the programming, "Pro-gramming? More like Anti-gramming!"

Jimmy decided to had to get out for the night.

"Your wife's real skinny, but what a nice rack!" said Jimmy, to his coat as he took it from his coat rack. "I hear you're real promiscuous, everyone wants to take a turn on your knob!" said Jimmy, to the doorknob, as he turned it to open the door.

His cab driver had a turban on, "I thought I hailed a cab, not a suicide bomb!"

Sharktime Jimmy got out the cab at no particular location. He just walked the cold streets. Looking for something to roast. "It's so chilly out here, I ought to roast myself!" said Jimmy to himself, "...to warm myself up." he continued, under his breath.

On a whim, Sharktime Jimmy decided to go to The Statue of Liberty. "I know you like to swish, but I don't swing in your direction, so keep your hands to yourself, sweetheart!" he said to the Ferry, as he boarded it. Because "ferry" is pronounced the same as "fairy".

He arrived at The Statue of Liberty and this was at the time when you could still go up to the very top late at night. So he did. Jimmy snuck even further beyond where he was allowed to go. He stuck his hand out from the crown of Lady Liberty. The wind was blowing hard and cold. He crawled out completely onto the head of Lady Liberty so that he could jump off and kill himself. He looked up at the dark sky. He looked at the lighted city. He looked at Lady Liberty's face.

"Looks like you could use a shave, honey!" he shouted to her, over the wind.

He looked down at the drop where he would take his final flight. He was not sure if this was the best thing to do. "You call that a drop? I seen more drastic leaps from undescended testicles!" he said. Then Sharktime Jimmy carefully crawled back inside The Statue of Liberty's head and went back home.

Hank Wasn't Perfect

Hank wasn't perfect. God damn him to hell. There were lots of things that Hank was supposed to be, but perfect goes without mentioning. Hank had a head full of hair and a pair of glasses. Glasses? Why? Because his vision needed assistance. Hank wasn't perfect.

Hank had a stain on his shirt. His shirttail seemed incapable of staying tucked. Hank's teeth got yellow. Hank gave in to superficial pressures of social acceptances and got his teeth professionally whitened. They were too white, he looked ridiculous. Hank wasn't perfect.

When Hank got older he got stressed. The stress accelerated his genetic hair loss, which made him look less masculine. Hank wasn't perfect.

Hank tried a drug that was against the law. No doctor's permission slip. No addiction excuse. He did it for fun. He wanted to have fun because he learned fun was great solace from things that were not fun. Most things in Hank's life were not fun. So when fun came around it was hard to turn down. As a result, heavy addiction would join up with Hank years later. Hank wasn't perfect.

Hank married his wife Marvey. He loved her for crying out loud. But one time early on in their marriage Hank slept with a woman with oily skin who was not Marvey. Hank had not arranged for this to be okay with Marvey. He had broken his vow of marriage. But the problem was Hank was under the influence of a drug and a drink. He allowed himself to not think about the self control he knew he was supposed to think about. This oily-skinned woman, with her oily Greek bosoms, was offering herself to Hank and Hank had urges he didn't contain. He felt bad and knew he could never do that again. Many years later he did it again with a different woman. Hank wasn't perfect.

One time Hank saw a man with a different color of skin than he and judged the man based off that alone. He had, implanted in his brain, a small town upbringing, selective advertising, fear-based media influence, and outdated ideals, that lingered from his parents's parenting skills, that caused a knee-jerk reaction and inability to empathize with every man. Hank wasn't perfect.

Hank had a son named Cheef that reminded of him of himself. Because of that upbringing of his, Hank held himself to a high standard he could never reach. The voice of Hank's father's judgement echoed in Hank's every move. As Hank got older, that father voice morphed into his own voice. Every time Hank's son Cheef would try to do something, the voice would come into Hank's head and tell him Cheef was not good enough. Because Cheef was too much like Hank. And we all know that Hank wasn't perfect.

Hank would go around acting like an asshole.
"Look at the way you behave, you're an asshole!"
"What did I do that was assholish?!" Hank would ask.
"You did this, this and this, and this." They would explain.
"Well, I'm not perfect!" Hank would say.
 The people talking to Hank were not smart enough to push the conversation beyond their confrontation to anything constructive. Hank's behavior and their condemnation continued. Hank would often use the phrase "I'm not perfect" to excuse his reprehensible behavior. It became a form of flippancy. But Hank wasn't perfect.

As soon as Hank set foot in this world he seemed to be an interceptor for influences of imperfection. For that he should be burned at the stake, but only after being crucified. Hank was so goddamned imperfect.

Now though, in the future, in the year 4320, man does not interact, absorb, influence or participate. It really is the best way. We have not had an incident of imperfection or worry since 4083. I am only recounting this story from a servo-mechanical relay of a surveillance log in the sky that records all activity, and has since the year 1963, when U.S. President John F. Kennedy was removed.

Hank did have a second son though. He was given no name. He sat still in a room, never spoke, experienced anything, or spoke to anyone. He was perfect.

Strong Bonded Couple

Mertle hated Bub because Bub was a sarcastic fellow, and sarcasm reminded Mertle of instability.

One, because sarcasm sounds like sincerity, but upon deeper inspection you can detect that it's actually satirizing the sincerity. Two, because her father was not stable and could never hold down a job, but would always make sarcastic jokes about it. Because he could never hold down a job, Mertle never knew if the next meal was going to come. So when she reached adulthood she ate all the time, and in large quantities, because she had constant dread that food would go away. She did not like her dad, and she did not like Bub. But she was married to Bub, because Bub reminded her of her dad. And her dad was the only example of a male she knew. Life had really created an unpleasant equation for her.

Bub loved Mertle because she was humorless and fluctuated weight a lot. He liked that she fluctuated weight because he was attracted to all different types of women, so if her body weight changed it would be like he had a big woman one night and a slim woman another. He liked that she was humorless because it reminded him of his humorless mother, who was very stern and that caused him to rebel by developing a keen sense of humor. Also Mertle's lack of humor made him the funny one, which he liked.

"I'm instinctually drawn to you, but can't stand being around you, yet I fulfill your every need. That's not fair!" said Mertle.
"You're complete anguish to be around, yet I absolutely love your company." said Bub, with complete sincerity.
"Are you being sarcastic?" asked Mertle.
"No." said Bub, sincerely again.
"It sounds like you're being sarcastic." said Mertle.
"I know, but I'm being sincere." said Bub, still sincere.
"It's hard to tell because you're so often sarcastic!" said Mertle.
"It's something one might say when being sarcastic, and I know I have a tendency to be sarcastic, but I'm breaking sarcastic-character to let you know that you're a rotten horrible woman, and I absolutely love you, you fat-skinny-fat-skinny-angry-tough-crowd-whiny-scowling ogress."
"I believe you. Thank you, darling, for not being sarcastic for once. I actually like what you're saying because it's not sarcasm, I hate sarcasm." said Mertle, lovingly.
"Really?! I thought you loved sarcasm." said Bub, sarcastically.
"Dammit, I hate your fucking sarcasm!" screamed Mertle.

Bub and Mertle had a baby. It was hard to determine what the baby would grow up to be like, personality-wise, and what combo of the two parents it would exhibit. They were so uncertain, they brought in a mathematician and explained their whole personal situation, so he could assess how the child would turn out, just for no reason.

The mathematician's answer was reasonable and believable, but he was real smug and pleased with himself. Gross. Bub and Mertle could tell he was going to go around bragging about his findings and using them to schmooze up the mathematician ladders. They kicked him out.

One time during the holiday season Bub's cold humorless mom came over to spend time with the family. She was just like Mertle. Mertle's sarcastic unstable dad came over too. He was just like Bub.
Each parent was widow and widower. Bub's mom and Mertle's dad had real strong sexual chemistry so they had sex with each other. The grandparents were too old to have new babies. But they tried to figure out what another baby by them might be like, personality-wise. They couldn't figure it out.

"Why don't we call the mathematician again?!" said Bub, sarcastically. Mertle's Dad laughed. The ladies scowled.

The Best Criminal Jest

Bart Puffer had tall hair. It stuck up high. Everyone always made the joke "Looks like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket, ha ha!" Bart heard that joke a lot. But he liked his hair how it was because he got attention, and he wasn't very interesting so he needed something to give him attention.

"Looks like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket!" said another fellow with a great sense of humor to Bart, as he walked to get his morning muffin the next day.

"Looks like bla bla bla socket!" said the lady he had a business meeting with. Bart was walking on air from this attention.

One day Bart woke up and his hair was laying flat down. He couldn't get it to stand up tall like usual so he stuck his finger in an electrical socket and his flesh burnt to a bubbly crisp. His hair caught on fire and became a liquified fleshy ooze. When the paramedics and police investigators showed up they pronounced him dead and said "Looks like he stuck his finger in an electrical socket."

But don't worry about old Bart Puffer. The police started digging into Bart Puffer's backstory, with their investigation lead by Detective Frowntown, a detective who wore a tie and Blublocker sunglasses. The more Frowntown dug, the more unraveled. Bart Puffer's DNA implicated him as the murderer in a string of unsolved and already solved criminal cases.

As a result, Big Zacky Buckets, a convicted murderer, walked free and received a pardon.

"It's good to be free. I have lost a lot of time, but I am happy to have my freedom. It's a bittersweet and emotional day." said Big Zacky Buckets. Then Big Zacky Buckets went to an ice cream shop and stayed there for two days eating ice cream and crying.

"Ah still thank ee did it!" said Durkus Foldoon, the town skeptic. "Ee keeled them peepull an ah wawna see um burn fowr it!" Which is ironic, because Bart Puffer wound up burning.

Anyway, Durkus ran into Big Zacky Buckets one day walking down the street and they started to get into an argument. Big Zacky Buckets had learned patience in prison because he had lots of time to think about stuff as an innocent man. He calmly explained that he had been exonerated of the crimes because Bart Puffer was the murderer. Then Durkus understood and they became friends.

"Ah thank at's pretty funny that his hair stood up real tall lak an lectrical socket. Ha ha!" said Durkus.
"Yeah me too what a great joke." said Big Zacky.

Weezo Fatser Needs a Sandwich

Weezo Fatser wanted a sandwich and he couldn't find one anywhere. Grimpy Devo was a devious sneaky fellow with a black pointy goatee.

"Whurs a sandwich I keep try find one and I can't!" said Weezo.
"Psst, Weezo! Over here. I can tells ya where a sandwich is." said Grimpy Devo, from behind a bush across the street.

Weezo stumble dumbled across the street. Cars honked at him. He made it to the bush.

"Where da sandwich?!" said Weezo.
"Psst, Weezo! Right this way. It's in here!" whispered Grimpy Devo, over by the building with no AC.

Weezo followed Grimpy into the building with no AC. It was a hot day, and Weezo needed that AC. He also needed that sandwich.

"This way, this way, hehe." said Grimpy, as he walked on his toes, with quick pointy steps.
"Okay, I coming." panted Weezo as he lumbered through the stuffy building. Weezo was breaking a drippy sweat. "Hehhh, eeee, heh.." he wheezed, a little.

Weezo made it to the end of the building and wound up back outside in the day heat again, schvitzing with greasy squeaky schmutz from his body, no sandwich to nosh! And now he was wheezing hard. "Eeee, hehhh, eeee, hehhh."

"Just up over here!" shouted Grimpy from the top of the hill.
Weezo looked up. "Eeee, heeeehh, eeee, heehh. Can you bwing it to me?"
"Hurry hurry before it's gone, hehe!" shouted Grimpy, as he trotted up the hill.
"Eeeee, hehhh, eeeee. Okay." he wheezed, then made for his wheezy journey uphill.

Weezo was almost to the top of the hill. "Eeeeeeeee, hhhhhheh. E-e-e-e-eeee, hhhehhhh." And then he toppled over and rolled to a big rock that stopped him from rolling all the way downhill. Grimpy danced back down, and over to him.

"Weezo! Don't you want that yummy sandwich?" he said, with a motive of what seemed like some devious plan. What was he going to do? Really give him a sandwich? Bop Weezo on the head? Tease Weezo for being so wheezy and not give him a sandwich? But then, Weezo opened his eyes, lifted his head, and spoke.

"Oh no, heeeee, hehhhh. I don't need to look further for a sandwich." he said, widening his eyes.
"Oh no?" said Grimpy, curiously. This was an unexpected hiccup in Grimpy's questionable plan.
"That's right. I've got my eyes on all the sandwich I need." said Weezo, "I know you've been working for the devil, Grimpy Devo." he continued.
"What!? How?! I kept it secret real good." said Grimpy.
"Because I'm a gumshoe for God, hired to snuff you out.
"You mean this whole thing was a setup?" said Grimpy.
"Yes." said Weezo.
"You mean, I was trying to set you up, but the whole time, you were setting me up?"
"Yes." said Weezo.
"I thought it was too good to be true that you were standing there when you were, and that you were so easily persuaded to follow me to eat a sandwich." said Grimpy.
"Grimpy, now I'm going to eat you, per God's instruction. Ha ha ha, hehhh, eeeeee." he said, laughed and wheezed.
"No, don't eat me, I was just trying to do a job for the Devil, I have a family, noooo." said Grimpy.

Weezo's eyes turned black and his teeth grew sharp. His jaw unhinged and stretched real big. His head and lips wrapped about Grimpy's neck and shoulders, and swallowed him, like how snakes eat stuff, and you can see the outline of it in their snake body.

Weezo chased it with two pieces of bread.
"Good sandwich," said Weezo, "thanks God." Then he said a little prayer and went back to acting like the Weezo Fatser we all thought he was.