The Self-Helper

Rufus the Dufus was so frustrated that he kicked a rock.

"Ow now my toe hurt!" he yelled.
"Hey you look mad." said Dumb Pam.
"Yeah, I was mad then I hurt my toe, now I'm mad two times." said Rufus.
"Well why don't you talk to my friend Eddie Popper who is a self-help guru and he's good for when you're mad." said Dumb Pam.
"Will he help me?" said Rufus.
"I just told you he will, idiot!" said Dumb Pam.
"I'm not idiot, I'm smart!" said Rufus the Dufus.
"Okay let's go."

Then they both turned around and fell into the chimney hole because they were on the roof of Eddie Popper's house, conveniently.

"Ouch!" they both said.

Eddie Popper ran into the room. He was crying.
"What are you two doing here?" he sobbed.
"We were looking for you to self-help us." they said.
"Why were you on the roof?" sobbed Eddie.
"We thought it was the ground." said Rufus the Dufus.
"You guys sure are dumb." said Eddie Popper.
"No we're smart!" said Dumb Pam.
"I'm so sad and unconfident." said Eddie Popper.
"Oh, well why don't you cheer up?" asked Rufus.
"Okay I'll try."
"I brought Rufus here because he's mad and needs self-help. Can you self-help him?" said Pam.
"Yes. Okay here's the trick. You got to stay positive and believe in yourself." said Eddie Popper.
"Okay thanks, I think it's working." said Rufus.

Rufus and Pam left happy.

"I'm still sad." Eddie said to himself.
"Why don't I help myself?" Eddie asked himself.
"Okay I will." he said.
"You should be more positive. And believe in yourself." he told himself.

Then he called his friend Pepper, gossiped for a while, felt much better, made himself a hot toddy and went to sleep in the nude. His body was hairy. His sheets were made of silk.

Harvey Sea Songs

Harvey Jackson was a man of the sea. He sang on boats.

Yodel dodel dodel 
Yodel dodel dee
I smell a little flower
And then I take a shower!

That was a song Harvey Jackson would sing. He'd sing it on his empty boat, then a whale that would follow him around and spurt a gust of water through it's blowhole to let him know it was good.

"Thanks Whale!" said Harvey.
"Shhhplshhhh... dribble dribble splatter sprinkle!" said the blowhole water.

Harvey started to feel pretty confident in his sea song ability so he decided to go to Los Angeles, California to make it big.

He sailed far to the city of dreams, all the while singing his sea sings!

Yeedel deedel do
Yeedel deedel doodle
I sit on a chair 
And I grow some hair!

Then the whale blew another hole full of water.

"I'm on a roll!" said Harvey Jackson.

He was so excited because he had so much material that he could share with the big city. The whale was so encouraging. Harvey arrived at the shore and found himself a venue to sing some songs. He whipped out his wooden axe (that's sailor slang for a guitar). And he strummed away.

A yebby debby dooby
And a ruby duby booby
Gimme a teeny tickle 
I like to eat a pickle.

The audience didn't respond.

"Hmm..." said Harvey.
He knew that wasn't his best one, so he tried another. It didn't do well either. Harvey was heartbroken and confused. His confidence had been built up too high by the whale. He ran back to the sea got on his boat sailed out and found the whale.

"Hey Whale!" said Harvey.
"Splasasahhhshh sprinkle sprinkle." said the blowhole water.
"You lied to me!"
"Sssspushhh splatter." said the blowhole water.
"I humiliated myself. I thought I had talent but you were just tricking me into thinking I did." said Harvey.
"Spppshhh rainrainrain."
"Can you come to all my shows in Los Angeles?" Harvey asked.
"Shhhhhhhff sprinkle..."

Harvey knew his confidence depended on the whale's attendance.

"If you can't attend those shows then they'll have to all be at sea."
"Sppliiishhhhh...." said the blowhole water.
"Whale, I love you. You make me feel whole inside. Will you marry me?"
"Sppiiiiiishhh..."
"You've just made me the happiest sea singing sea sailor in any sea!" said Harvey.

Harvey married the whale and lived at sea. He didn't have very much talent but he had that whale who liked his songs and that whale was the only one who ever liked those songs.

Digi-Finger

Klaus walked into the coffee shop for a cup of tea to go.

"I vould like ze hot tea please." said Klaus.

"Please pay ze tea fee." said the coffeemaker.

Klaus paid the fee by handing a handful of bills and change to the coffeemaker. Klaus also had a robot finger.

"Aht-oh." said the coffeemaker.

"Vaht?" said Klaus.

"You haff a digi-digit." said the coffeemaker.

Klaus looked at his mechanical pointer. And shrugged like it was not a big deal.

"Oh zis?" said Klaus.

"He has a digital fingie!" shouted the coffeemaker.

Everyone ran out from the back, the other customers in the shop stood up and screamed in fear.

"You ah trying to read ah brains!" shouted one customer.

"You vill not uploat your little digi into me!" screamed another customer.

"We yoose pencils here!" shouted the coffeemaker.

"Und we determine ze strength und potency aff our coffee vis our minds und our noses." shouted the manager.

"Not vis a coffee potency machine!" continued the coffeemaker.

"You ah not willkommen." said the coffee shop manager.

All the people of the country were terrified of technology since the digital war ended thirty years earlier. Robos and Computerians had attempted to undermine the hand-crafted working man's way of life. Eventually the Robos legion was defeated. Parliament had, in recent years, decided to loosen the ban on electronic assistance. Hence, the fear of Klaus, whose finger was a robot finger. There was fear among the humans that Robos would control their minds, bodies, automobiles, and coffee making once again.

"It just meks things moof a little quickah is all." said Klaus quietly.

Little Peter came out from the back to reason with his grandpa, the shop owner.

"Grandpa, perhaps it vould be good fah business to allow him. It's only a little digi-fingie."

Grandpa, the shop owner reluctantly and begrudgingly agreed.
"Okay. Just zis time." said the shop owner.

Klaus quickly took his coffee, left, and marked the coffee shop on his digital list of establishments that were willing to serve Computerian clientele. He then uploaded the list to Robos headquarters for their private information log.

Spinach Mouth

Benjamin had spinach in his teeth. No one sitting at the table with him told him. Not Charlie, not Maggie, not Isaac, not Peggy. Benjamin went on and on about Elizabeth. Saying bad things about her and such.

"...And the way Elizabeth wears her hair! Oh man..." said Benjamin.

Maggie nodded. She did not speak up to inform Benjamin of his spinach teeth, nor to defend Elizabeth, whom she considered a friend. The spinach piece seemed to get bigger.

"...And those bright colored shirts? Peeeeyeeew they are ugly!" continued Benjamin.

Isaac did not agree with Benjamin, but he certainly didn't speak up to defend Elizabeth. He wondered if the spinach piece in Benjamin's teeth was actually spinach. Benjamin was a weaselly out of shape fellow. He did not seem like the health conscious type. And spinach is healthy.

"Hey! Hey! Who am I?" Benjamin asked, then spoke in a silly voice. "Is my hair frizzy enough?..." 

Charlie, Maggic, Isaac and Peggy all sat smiling politely. Peggy cleared her throat.

"I'm Elizabeth! Ha ha ha ha!" said Benjamin.
"Ahh, I see." mumbled Charlie.
"Because I think her frizzy hair is so ugly!" said Benjamin, pleased with his rant.
"Hmhmm." politely giggled Isaac.

By now the spinach piece had grown. It was hanging from Benjamin's mouth. He still did not notice. Charlie, Maggie, Isaac and Peggy all noticed. They also did not share the same sentiments about Elizabeth. But no one spoke up about either.

"I also think Elizabeth has a big butt! You ever notice she has a big butt? Like maybe too big? Charlie! You've noticed she has a big butt, right?" said Benjamin.

Charlie just smiled and Benjamin continued talking. The spinach piece was covering his whole head and shoulders by now. But not his mouth. No one spoke up. Benjamin continued talking. The spinach piece grew. It grew onto Charlie. No one spoke up. Benjamin kept talking. It grew onto Maggie. No one said anything. It completely covered Maggie and absorbed her. No one said a word. They all smiled politely. Benjamin continued talking about Elizabeth. Even though his words became inaudible. Spinach absorbed Isaac and Peggy. Benjamin's lungs became clogged with spinach. He suffocated and could no longer speak or breathe or live. None of them could. Elizabeth wasn't so bad.

Seth the Wacky Brick

Seth the Wacky Brick was a brick sitting in a pile of bricks!

"Hey Bricklayer, put me in the wall I wants ta be in the wall hurry!" said Seth the Brick.
"You wait your turn!" said Bricklayer.
"Hey there's lots of others been waiting in line longer than you." said some other bricks.
"You guys are heavy and all look the same. I'm not sifting through you just to determine which one of you is begging to be put in the wall." said Bricklayer.
"I'm just three rows below and two bricks over, easy-peasy!" said Seth.
"Quiet I'm in the in the zone." said Bricklayer.

Seth was quiet for a minute. So were all the other good bricks.

"What's da zone?" asked Seth.
"It's like when you're laying a bunch of bricks and you get to this very concentrated, therapeutic, zen-type place, where your brain is focusing on some sort of activity, but also not really thinking about anything at the same time." said Bricklayer.
"Oh that sounds nice, active, and relaxin'." said Seth the Wacky Brick.
"It's also nice because I'm being active and working hard. Which is what I am programmed to do, as a human." said Bricklayer.
"Oh. Well I'm programmed to be put in da wall." said Seth.
"You're really breaking my meditative state." said Bricklayer.
"Well I ain't gonna stop!" said Seth.
"You're a tough negotiator." said Bricklayer.
"How bout it?" said Seth.
"Get this guy out of here." said the rest of the pile of bricks.
"Oy vay, alright fine." said Seth.

Bricklayer dug through the stack of bricks and found Seth. He smeared some cement down and planted Seth right there.

"Yesss!" said Seth, "I've hit the big time."

A few months later the building was finished.
"Uh oh. I got an itch." said Seth. No one responded to him.
"Hey!! I got a bad itch!!!" he shouted. No one heard him.

Years went by, like fifty, and Seth the Wacky Brick was still in the building wall.
"I'm anxious." he said.

Thirty more years went by and the building was demolished, all the remaining parts were separated into garbage for a landfill, recycled bricks, and more cement. Some of the cement was used to lay more bricks.

Howard the Nice Man

Howard was a nice man with a wonderful wife, family, and career. He was a fine embodiment of the American Dream. One morning he kissed his wife goodbye for the day and patted his son's head.

"Have a great day, sweetheart." said Howard.

Howard sat in bad traffic on the drive to work. The traffic was so bad that he got very frustrated and decided he was going to skip work. He took the nearest exit off the highway. He called an old college friend of his to get a number for a serious drug dealer.

"Hi give me your heaviest stuff." Howard said to Crud the drug dealer.
"Here try this." said Crud as he handed Howard his heaviest stuff.

Howard went to Crud's bathroom to enjoy the high from the hard heroin in privacy. He heard a gunshot from outside the bathroom. "Now you're a real dead fuck, Crud!" shouted someone. It sounded like Crud was dead.

"Damn." Howard whispered. Then quickly he took some serious uppers that Crud also gave him.
Howard crawled out the bathroom window and ran as fast as he could.

Howard ran real far and didn't know where he was. Luckily he had his wallet and car keys because he was no forgetful dummy. A guy named Todd walked up with a sharp knife and asked for Howard to hand over his wallet though. Howard beat Todd's face in with the car keys. Howard's hand was all bloody. He wiped it off on some grass. Howard didn't notice whether he'd been stabbed or not.

"Hi handsome, want a date?" said Trainstation, a prostitute on the street. That was her name.
"Yes." said Howard. Then they went and had sex. When they were done Howard paid her her fee.

As he walked down the hall, of the dirty dingy hotel they had sex in, he heard her boss barge in on her.
"Hey Bitch, that money is mine, give it here!" said her boss. Then he slapped her.
Howard went back to the room.
"Hey this is a nice woman, don't be mean to her!" said Howard.
"Mind your business." said the boss.
"Fuck you!" said Howard, then he hit the boss on the head with the nearest lamp. It was on and electrical so the hooker boss's hair caught on fire.
"Put it out, put it out!" screamed the boss.

Howard took out his penis and started pissing on the hooker boss's head.
"This is the only fire extinguisher I could find." said Howard.
"I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" said the boss.

Then Howard grabbed an actual fire extinguisher off the wall and hit the boss on the head with it. The fire spread to the bedsheets. Howard's penis was still out.

"Let's go, Trainstation."
"You're crazy!" said Trainstation.
"I hate traffic." said Howard.

Howard walked with Trainstation back to his car and it was swarmed with police and crime scene tape. Because it was outside of Crud the dead drug dealer's house.

"You can't come through here." said a cop.
"But my car's over there and I have to get to work." said Howard.
"Okay, make it quick." said the cop. Howard's penis was still out. The cop didn't notice because he was looking around.

Howard drove Trainstation to a women's home for rehabilitation of prostitutes that was run by a member of his church community.

Then he rolled his shirt sleeves down, put his penis away, drove to work and ate two and a half pints of ice cream for lunch.

Ultimate Rhoda: Super Manipulator

Ultimate Rhoda was a super manipulator. She got everything she wanted.

"Big meeting today, eh, Ultimate Rhoda?" said Ted.
"Ted I'm not nervous, because I've got you by my side. Great jacket!" said Ultimate Rhoda.

Ted looked down at his jacket. "Oh. Thank you! Yeah we're gonna kick some butt." Bam! Ted, manipulated. Now Ted was gonna be ready to back up Ultimate Rhoda. Though she wasn't gonna need it.

"We can take my car. Oh shoot I forgot my park pass." said Ted. Ted didn't even wanna drive. Bam! Manipulated.
"Sir that will be extra 15 dollars to re-park the car if you come back today without park pass." said Sirf, the parking attendant.
"Sirf, we have a big meeting. He's just giving me a ride. If I don't get to the meeting, it could be trouble. You and I are okay with each other, right?" said Ultimate Rhoda.
"Uh yeah okay I guess so. Joo can bring the car back no charge if you like." said Sirf. Bang! Sirf Manipulated.
"He's my bud." said Ultimate Rhoda.

Ted and Ultimate Rhoda walked into the big meeting.

"Don't be nervous, I got your back." said Ted.
"Thanks that's a big help." said Rhoda. Boom! Ted Manipulated. Rhoda wasn't nervous but made Ted think he was the reason she wasn't nervous.

"Come in!" said the big meeting room. Sam Hannigan was in there heading the big meeting. He was a slick suit slick stud muffin. His hairstyle left much to be desired though.

"Sam, great hair!!!" said Ultimate Rhoda.
Sam, surprised, placed his hand on his shameful hairstyle.
"Oh. Well, thank you Ultimate Rhoda." said Sam. Then he smiled bashfully. Pang! Sam Hannigan, manipulated. Watch what happens next.

"Sam we love your company so much. We think it's brilliant how you've constructed it so that it works so well," Bing! Manipulation, "and we've determined that the only thing that could make it work better is if it were run using our advanced elite organization technology that we've innovated and personally run ourselves. Plus, side note, we love your company, hehe!" schmoozed Rhoda.
"Okay Ultimate Rhoda, sign here, it's yours, here's the keys to the kingdom." said Sam Hannigan. Bam! Hannigan Manipulated.

Ted and Rhoda drove in the car excitedly. Ted couldn't believe how good Rhoda was.  She was almost too good at getting what she wanted.

"You kicked some butt in there, Ultimate Rhoda." said Ted.
"Aw couldn't have done it without you guiding me." said Ultimate Rhoda (Fing! Manipulation).
"Now you have it all!" said Ted.

Then Ted noticed his friend Swenson was out on the street.

"Oh hey! Can we pick up Swenson?" asked Ted.
"Oh but we can't because I got to go somewhere and it's urgent." said Rhoda. Flop! Manipulation failure.

Rhoda's denial gave Ted a glimpse into her soul. Ted knew she didn't have anywhere to be.
"You are lying and manipulating. You've made it to the top and you still want to manipulate? Where is your heart and soul, babe? We're picking up my friend Swenson and that's it!" Then Ted turned the car around and picked up Swenson.

"Wow thank you for picking me up!" said Swenson, who was nice and needed rides.

Ted picked up Swenson and they had a great talk and a great time. Swenson did smell very bad though. They went on a long drive and detour. Swenson smelled bad for the whole time.

Skip's Chore

Skip the Wholesome Teenager didn't want to mow the lawn.

"Golly jeez the grass is so tall!!" said Skip.
"You don't get to go out and play unless you finish your chores!" said Mother.
"Aw shucks!"
"You better shuck that grass, young man!" said Pop.

Skip sulked on his front porch in front of the uncut grass. Skip's teenage friends walked up with their bikes and walking sticks. There was Kit, the wily but nice kid. There was Ronnie, who was slightly indistinguishable from Kit. And there was Meatpie, the chubby friend.

"Hey Skip! Ain'tcha gonna come out and play?" said Kit.
"Yeah we'd sure love if ya came on out." said Ronnie.
"We're gonna go to the picture show and get cheese dippers!" said Meatpie
"I wish. Pop says I gotta cut this grass." said Skip.
"We're also gonna go find a dead body!" said Ronnie.
"And then we're gonna make Meatpie eat it!" said Kit.
"Shut up are not!" said Meatpie.
"Heheh knock it off, you two." said Kit.

This was a funny joke that made Skip giggle a bit even though he was sad about his chore.

"Well, come find us if you get finished in time will ya?" said Kit.
 "I don't wanna mow this stinkin' lawn, that's for sure." said Skip.

The fellas didn't find a dead body. And Skip didn't mow the lawn or meet up with them. He sat on the porch for years and grew and grew and got real fat. His pubescent facial hair grew in real gross and fuzzy like. The city seized the property they lived on, because the factory job his Pop had was replaced by machinery, and Pop's attempt at aluminum siding sales didn't pan out either, so Pop had no money.

"I still ain't cutting this grass." said Skip, who was fat and uneducated because he stayed on the porch through it all.

The city came and cut the grass just before they made them leave the property. When they cut all the years of heavy grass they found there was a dead body front and center on the lawn, but it'd been covered by the tall grass. There was a small investigation into Skip's family to see if they were responsible but they weren't.

"Oh I gotta go find the boys, tell 'em there's a dead body on my lawn!" said Skip.

But Skip had lost touch with the boys because he'd been on the porch too long. They had all left town and died in Vietnam.

Dad's Chair

The family was super psyched to eat their dinner meal. Everyone sat at their place and started digging in. Mom, Dad, kid, and other kid all sat in their seats. Dad was the last to sit. His chair seemed smaller.

"Hmm..." he said, "that's weird. This chair seems smaller."
"Gobble gobble gobble." said Mom and she slurped down her food.
"Smack smack smack!" said the kid.
"Nom nom nom nom nom, burp!" said other kid, as they sucked it all down.

No one noticed what Dad had just said.

"Hey. Did anyone switch out these chairs? Mine seems a little smaller than usual." Dad said again.
"Glop glop glop glop, slurrrrp. Breath. Sip. Burp!" said the family.

Dad got frustrated. He stood up and the chair was stuck to his butt. He pulled it off and raised it in the air with one hand.

"Hey! I know someone did something with my big chair!"

The family stopped inhaling their food and looked up at him. Like pigs from a vacated trough. Dad looked at his family's dead eyes. Their faces glared and their eyes glowed.

"Wait a second," said Dad, "This isn't my chair, and you guys aren't my family!"

The family panted heavily at him.
"How did I get here?!" said Dad.
"You gonna eat that food?" grunted Mom.

Dad looked down at his plate. It was covered with runny slop.
"I want your food." said the other kid.
"Uh... it's yours. Have it." said Dad. Then he dropped the small chair and ran out the door.

"Where's my family?!?!" shouted Dad.
"Boyd! Boyd! Over here!"

Dad turned. It was his wife shouting to him. He was Boyd.

"I was in the house and everyone was the wrong person and I had the wrong chair!" said Boyd.
"You went into the wrong house." said wife.
"Oh I did?"
"Yeah, you do that from time to time. You go into the wrong house, and forget where you are, and unfamiliar places and people seem familiar. And vice versa. And our neighbors are real peculiar, but no one bothers them and they don't have a Dad." said wife.
"Oh. Well I knew there was some sort of logical explanation for all that." said Boyd.

Snotman's Adventure

Snotman was stuck in a guy named Blarp's nose. Blarp was a grossie. He had scabs and itches all over.

"Hey baby, why don't you smooch me?!" He said to Delilah.
"Ew, no way, Blarp. Don'cha know you're a grossie?" said Delilah.
"Well too bad no one told you, but grossies are good kissers."
"That can't be true!" said Delilah.
"It's one hundred percent true." said Blarp.
"Okay I'll test your theory."

Then Delilah leaned forward and smooched Blarp. Real wet and sloppy like. Delilah had just put a bunch of pepper on a bowl of egg salad. She didn't do it for the taste as much as the aesthetic. She liked all those black dots speckled all over that chunky yellow egg bowl of goo. Anyway, she put so much pepper on there that the pepper got on her nose and lips. So when she smooched Blarp, Blarp got a big whiff of Delilah's pepper nose. This caused Blarp to sneeze real big.

"Ooh baby you're a good kisser but, haaaa.... haaaa.... haaaaa.... haaa-chooo!" he said and sneezed. Blarp sneezed so hard that Snotman, who was stuck inside of Blarp's face went flying out onto the pavement.

"I'll see you suckers later!" said Snotman.
"Oh man there goes Snotman." said Blarp.
"Wow he escaped!" said Delilah.

Snotman scurried off down the sidewalk.
"I'm gonna go on an adventure!" said Snotman.

Harvey walked by with his dog Giupetto.
"Right this way, boy. Right this way Giupetto. Good boy." said Harvey.
"Pant pant pant pant pant." said Giupetto.

Harvey spotted Snotman on the sidewalk.
"Oh no look out Giupetto!" Harvey said, as he yanked Giupetto's leash back so Giupetto wouldn't step in Snotman.
"That was close!" they all said.
"I didn't wanna get stepped on."
"I didn't want Giupetto to step on you. That would have been gross!" said Harvey.
"Speaking of gross, Blarp was back that way, and he's a grossie."
"Oh, well I don't know Blarp."
"I came out of his penis." said Snotman.
"That's so gross." said Harvey.
"Just kidding, I came out of his nose." said Snotman
"That's less gross, but still very gross." said Harvey.
"Yeah. Lotta gross stuff out there." said Snotman.
"Including you." said Harvey.
"Pant pant pant... Woof!" said Giupetto.
"Well we've gotta go. My girlfriend is waiting. We're gonna eat popcorn and watch a movie like a healthy functional couple." said Harvey.
"Have fun, I'm gonna continue on my adventure." said Snotman.
"Glad we didn't step on you, bye."

And Harvey took off down the sidewalk. It started to rain. Snotman got rained on real hard and thinned out a lot. He got runny and dribbly. The rain stopped and the sun came up, because it had been night. The sun dried all the rain and Snotman. Snotman was stuck to the sidewalk. He was crusty, flakey and dry. But that was adventure enough for him.

"I love this sidewalk. I want to spend the rest of my days here." said Snotman.
The sidewalk loved Snotman too. They were so happy. And that was all of Snotman's life.

The Scenario Controllers

Roger and LaTonya hadn't seen each other in a while. They greeted and chatted.

"Hey!" said LaTonya.

"Good to see you!" said Roger.

"You too..." said LaTonya, smiling.

Roger paused.

"...Um." 

"What?" asked LaTonya.

"Um..."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah." said Roger.

"Did you forget what you were going to say?" asked LaTonya.

Roger felt confronted and busted.

"No, I remembered, I just got nervous."

"Why?"

"Um..." he said slowly.

"Why?"

"Well..."

"Spit it out." said LaTonya.

"Well, because I was afraid if I said too much then it would affect how much you would talk to me."

LaTonya was confused.

"Okay..." she said.

"So I figured I better say less and keep you from possibly deciding to leave."

"You're saying you're afraid to say something?"

"I guess, yeah."

"But what if withholding that thing you are nervous about affected your behavior, and that made me uncomfortable, then drove me away anyway?" suggested LaTonya.

Roger considered this.

"Well, that would sound like a no win situation." said Roger.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry I possibly made you uncomfortable in that scenario that hasn't happened yet."

"It's okay. I should have addressed it, in that hypothetical scenario that hasn't happened, before it got out of hand."

"I didn't think that it got out of hand." said Roger.

"You did so much overthinking about it, it definitely would have made me anxious."

"We're still talking about this alternate future scenario that hasn't happened yet?"

"Yes. I am, aren't you?" asked LaTonya

"Yes." said Roger.

"Look I'm willing to accept that we both will be in the wrong, if what we are describing happens." said LaTonya.

"That will be mighty big of you, LaTonya." said Roger.

"Yes, but it hasn't happened yet." said LaTonya.

"We're reflecting a future incident, which hasn't happened, as if it's the past." said Roger.

"Yes, I know and understand. We are doing that right now." said LaTonya.

"From here." said Roger.

"Before it's even happened."

"And it might not happen."

"Probably won't. Because of healthy reflection like this." said LaTonya.

"You're right. But we should focus on the now." said Roger.

"Yes. Back to now." said LaTonya

"Glad we're on the same page."

Roger took a big breath through his nose. So did LaTonya.

"You might as well say whatever it is you were afraid to tell me."

"It's not even a big deal." downplayed Roger.

"It's been so built up though." said LaTonya.

"Let's just let the information come out organically." said Roger.

"I can't just forget about it now." said LaTonya.

Then Roger tried to change the subject.

"Tell me about that pattern on your shirt. Did you buy the shirt for it's comfort or style?" said Roger.

LaTonya got suspicious.

"That question sounded really phony. " said LaTonya.

"Damn..." said Roger.

"Whatever feeling you're concealing is affecting your behavior and it's made me uncomfortable again." said LaTonya.

"Again?" said Roger.

"Yeah, you did it before, in the future scenario we just talked about."

"Yeah, but we also made-up in the now, before it ever happened.

"But then it happened!" said LaTonya, emotional.

"But we're talking about it in the past tense!"

"Oh. I guess that means it's already over."

Roger and LaTonya took a sigh of relief.

"I'm glad we sorted it out." said Roger.

"Even though I don't know what you were withholding, I actually feel closer to you than ever." said LaTonya.

"Me too." said Roger.

"I'm glad we're on the same page."

"We've almost been through a lot together."

"We should get married."

"We should shouldn't we?"

"We should have a happy life together with occasional disagreements."

"Yeah, and with children, adopted or biological. Whichever seems right for us."

"And we'll look back on all the times together with memories, some happy and some sad."

"And grow old together, learning and growing with each other, experiencing life, not hiding from it."

"Yeah." They both said together as they looked in each others' eyes.

LaTonya glanced down at Roger's wristwatch.

"Oh my god, I have to run. It was so nice to see you, though!" said LaTonya

"Oh man, me too I'm late. Take care bye!" said Roger.

Brandon the Mope at a Holiday Party

Brandon the Mope was the life of the party. Everyone loved Brandon the Mope. He knew how to get the party started. A holiday party where Brandon the Mope was expected was off to a slow start.
"When the hell is Brandon gonna get here?!" said everyone at the party.

Brandon the Mope appeared from behind a door.
"Hey guys, I got here a few minutes ago, I figured no one would notice or care." said Brandon the Mope.
"Hooray it's Brandon!!" said the party.
"People, people, gather around, Brandon's here!" said Jodie the host.
"Everyone else gets noticed more than me." mumbled Brandon, as everyone eagerly surrounded him, smiling and patting him on the back.

Brandon angled himself in a position where he could zone out at whatever was playing on the television. An admirer saddled up next to him.
"Hey Brandon I loved your most recent accomplishment." said an admirer.
"I'm not very good at anything." said Brandon.

Brandon walked away with his head down. People in every circle vocally discussed how great Brandon was. Dorian approached Brandon.
"People here love you!" declared Dorian.
"I get mistreated." said Brandon.
"Brandon, can I bring you anything, please? Here's some chips." said Sandy the cook.
"I eat too much and feel bad after." said Brandon.

Then Brandon wandered over to the snack table alone. A foxy holiday gal flanked him.
"You have such an amazing energy about you, Brandon." said the foxy lady with a red holiday dress.
"I'm gloomy."
"Wow, I love gloom." said the foxy gal.
"I'm not that interesting." said Brandon, as he turned the opposite way.
"Gee that's fascinating, tell me more!" said the foxy gal to the space that Brandon was standing, as Brandon walked away.

Boisterous Sammy Jay approached Brandon the Mope, "Brandon! Buddy, so what else is new?"
"It's been a cruddy year."
"I love your energy and attitude buddy, gimme a hug!" said Sammy Jay, then he grabbed Brandon and squeezed him.
"I'm so glad you're here!" said Sammy Jay.

Then the foxy red holiday dress gal came over again. "Brandon I'm having so much fun with you right now, you're so much fun to be around."
"I feel like everyone wants me to leave." said Brandon.
"Good idea, let's get out of here." said foxy gal.
"My place is filthy."
"We can go to my place if you'd rather go there." said foxy.
"I'm allergic to cats." said Brandon.

The following week the foxy gal called Brandon and told him what a blast she had with him. Then Brandon the Mope went out with her for a long time and he also made lots of money and success the following year.

Kevin the Mope watched it all happen. "That guy Brandon is an asshole and everyone thinks he's better than me." said Kevin.

The Holiday Party Bunch

Sasha's festive holiday party was going nicely.

Jerry had two bottles of vodka in his hand. Zacky had none.
"Hey can I borrow one of those?" said Zacky.
Jerry took off his sweater and gave it to Zacky.
"I wanted one of those vodka bottles, not your sweater, which you only have one of." said Zacky, then Zacky started sweating profusely.
"Here, take this sweater back, I'm sweating!" said Zacky.

Jerry took the sweater back and started sweating too. He took a swig of vodka and cooled off. He dropped the sweater on the couch and the couch started sweating too.
"It's hot in here! Get this sweater off me!" said the couch.
"Sorry, we don't know where to put the damn thing!" said Jerry who was drunk.
"I'm meant for butts, not sweaters! Put your butts on me." said the couch.
"I feel like standing." said Zacky.
"But I need sitting!" said the couch.
"I can't stand your complaining!" said Jerry, to the couch.
"If you can't stand then sit!" said the couch.

Jerry took a seat.
"Hey I still want one of those vodka bottles." said Zacky, standing.
"Okay have one." said Jerry, then he started groping the couch.
"Hey hands off, buddy!" said the couch.
"Oh sorry I'm drunk." said Jerry.
"Butts only." said the couch.

Zacky was now drunk. He sat on the couch too.
"Hey this couch is all sweaty." said Zacky.
"It's cuz of this damn sweater!" said the couch.
"Sorry. I'm a sweater, it's what I do." said the sweater.

Then Sasha came in and said "Hey everyone I slaved over this cake for the last few hours. Everyone eat some."

Everyone ate a bite.
"This cake is dry." said everyone.
"I made the cake and meant for it to be moist!" said sad Sasha.
"I'm the real loser I'm too dry." said the cake.
"It's my fault." said Sasha.
"Hey put this goddamn sweater on the cake!" said the couch.

Then they did and the cake started sweating.
"Now I'm not so dry!" said the cake.
"And you look super cute in that sweater." said Sasha.
"It's my sweater though you can't keep it!" said Jerry.
"You're so selfish Jerry, let the cake have the sweater." said Zacky.
"Okay Happy Holiday, can I have the sweater back when the sweaty cake gets all eaten?" said Jerry.

But the cake kept wearing the sweater until the cake melted and ruined the sweater.

Revenge of the Father's Legacy

Halbert Bigjeans woke up one morning from a deep dark heavy sleep and took a big stretch. He stood up. He took a big morning breath. Some might call it a yawn, but he was up for the day and ready to take it on, not sluggish and ready to say goodnight.

"Here I come day!"

Halbert walked to the bathroom. He couldn't wait to get a look at his big handsome face. He looked in the mirror. His face was all splotchy.

"What in the hell?!" he said.

The splotches splotched down to his neck. He took off his sleep time undershirt. More splotches. The splotches made a configuration. He turned around to look at his back. The splotches were bumpy. And ugly. So ugly he threw up. It was gross. The splotchy bumps were black and blue. And swollen. And hairy. And bubbly. Even a little oozy.

"Ew!" he yelled, when he saw the oozy part.

The splotches on his back made a configuration that spelled something. He had to flex his back muscles like a body builder to see the entire picture. It was painful.

"Ouch it burns!" he yelled.

He focused clearly to see what it spelled out. He read it aloud.

"Haa... haaa... haa.. I... got... you... this... tiiime." he sounded out. "Ahhhh!" he yelled, "I know who did this! It was Ding Ding!"

Halbert ran outside to his front yard. Sure enough, there was Ding Ding standing there laughing.

"Ha ha ha ha, I got you this time. Didn't I, Halbert?" said Ding Ding. That was Ding Ding's catchphrase.
"Damn you Ding Ding!" said Halbert.
"No! You deserved it and you know this to be true."
"I'll never admit that." said Halbert.
"Fine. I'm leaving."
"Ding Ding, wait. Just tell me how you did it?" said Halbert, referring to the splotchiness.
"It was easy," said Ding Ding, "I used your own family secret serum."
"What?! Impossible. Only my family knows that serum." said Halbert.
"Your father wanted me to know it. He said I was more of a son to him than you ever were!"

Halbert's late father, Dr. Dorman Bigjeans, was a great experimenter and Ding Ding was his loyal favorite assistant.

"Ding Ding! How do I get rid of the splotches?!" said Halbert.
"It's easy." said Ding Ding, "the cure is in the formula to the family's secret serum."
"Nooooo!" said Halbert.
"Ha ha ha ha ha!" said Ding Ding, because Ding Ding knew that Halbert never paid attention to his father so he hadn't memorized the secret family serum.

Halbert was always busy being a hunky stud. Something his father always tried to teach him was secondary to secret serum making. The splotchy fate was Dr. Bigjeans' final gift to his vain young son. Ding Ding was the ultimate messenger. He got him this time.

Mediocre Joe

Mediocre Joe was the toast of the town.

"Mediocre Joe, I'm such a big fan!" said a fan.
"Thank you I work hard." said Mediocre Joe.
"Mediocre Joe, you've inspired me since you first burst on the scene and I was a kid." said another.
"Ah it's comments like that that get me through the day, brother."
"Mediocre Joe, I haven't seen much but with you around I know I don't need to see much else." said a babe.
"That's sweet of you, honey. Wanna kiss?" said Mediocre Joe.
"Do I ever!" said the babe.

Mediocre Joe and that babe had a passionate relationship until Mediocre Joe met another babe that was interested in him.

"Sorry Babe #1, Babe #2 is moving in." said Mediocre Joe.

Mediocre Joe and Babe #2 kissed hard and sloppy. She was his muse.

"Babe #2, you inspire me." said Mediocre Joe.
"Thanks Joe." said Babe #2.

Mediocre Joe made more stuff.

"This is your best work yet!" said a boss.
"It's so popular, everyone loves it!" said a moneyman.
"Great news," said Mediocre Joe, "I'll make some more."

Mediocre Joe got to work on more stuff. He sweated a little making it. He started to experience working hard. There was a lot of money at stake. He felt pressure.

"I feel a lot of pressure to make work." said Mediocre Joe, to his therapist.
"Well you should just keep up the good work." said the therapist.

Mediocre Joe kept working. The money came in and the hard work persisted. He was incredibly stressed.

"Guess what Mediocre Joe!" said Babe #2.
"What!?" said Mediocre Joe.
"I'm pregnant with your shitty baby!" said Babe #2.
"Wow this is a glorious day!" said Mediocre Joe.

Mediocre Joe and Babe #2 had made so much money off Mediocre Joe's work that he was able to do significantly less to any work, and raise their fucking baby to be dull, mediocre, and very successful.

The Grueling Race

Sandy and Ruby were doing a race.

"Go!" said the race guy.

Sandy took off real fast. She was a go-getter and ready to go. She'd been training super hard. She was super competitive. Ruby was a little more calculated.

"Wow look at Sandy go!" said the spectators.
"She is so fast." said other spectators.

Meanwhile back over at the starting line, Ruby trotted along.

"I'm takin' my time." said Ruby.
"Well ya better hurry, she's gonna beat you." yelled spectators.
"We'll see." said Ruby.
"I'll bet she's got a plan." said a wise old spectator.

Back over at Sandy, she was a blazin'! She hadn't broken a sweat, she'd shattered one! She was burning rubber. And calories. Ol' Ruby was way back there suckin' up gulps of oxygen. Hours went by.

"This is a good race." said Ruby.
"You're losing!" said spectators.
"She's up to something." said that wise old spectator.

Sandy was at the third quarter of the race. She was getting dead tired. She was panting heavy. Heaving. But she kept pushing. Ruby slagged along.

"I'm starting to wonder now if she actually knows it's a race." said the wise old spectator.

Sandy was almost to the finish line. She had slowed way down. But then she won. Ruby took another few hours to finish. Turned out that Ruby just sucked at racing. She didn't have any clever plan to win the race. Sandy got a trophy and a lot of cheering. Ruby got a discount coupon to a chain restaurant.

Turns out Ruby didn't really care about the race and wasn't competitive in any aspects of life, she just decided to enter the race because it seemed like a nice trot.

Born Again Truth Teller

Barry was an honest man.

"Do you like my hair?" asked Margaret.
"It looks great!" said Barry. Even though Margaret's hair didn't really look that great.

Barry had a good sense of what Margaret was looking for in her question. She was not looking for an opinion, or a way to make her hair look better. She was looking to hear that her hair looked great. So Barry made the choice to tell her it did.

But then Barry became a Born Again Truth-Teller. After that he always told the Truth.

"Praise the Truth!" said Barry.
"Praise it!" said other Truth-Tellers.
"Have you heard about the Truth?" said Truth-Tellers to people.
"Yes." said people.
"Do you tell the Truth?" asked Barry.
"Yes." said people.
"Can I save you with the Truth?" asked Barry.
"Oh, no thank you. I'm fine." said people.
"The Truth is the Truth." said the Truth-Tellers.

Barry saw another lady he knew, who was a lot like Margaret, walking down the street.
"Hi Barry, it's me Wanda." she said.
"Hi My Dear, praise the Truth on this lovely day." said Barry.
"Barry do you like my green dress?" asked Wanda.
"It doesn't match the current season we are in, and the cut of it accentuates natural curves in your body in unnatural ways, Praise the Truth!" Barry shouted to the sky.

Wanda started crying, "I've been struggling with my figure and confidence ever since I had surgery!" she said.
"The Truth is great! Praise the Truth." shouted Barry. The truth is that Wanda still looked pretty damned good with those curves. Barry made an oversight and focused on the wrong side of truth.

Barry and the Truth-Tellers were sitting around loving the Truth one day.

"The Truth is how I truly feel." said one.
"Me too." said another.
"That's true." said another.
"I love Truth."
"I shall not lie."

"Truth hath set me free." said the Minister of their organization.

"Hi I have a delivery for Barry." said a delivery man who showed up.
"Hath the truth set you free?" asked Barry.
"No." said the delivery man.

Barry opened it. It was a letter from a former lover, whom Barry had unresolved feelings about that he'd pushed deep inside himself. He read the letter and the feelings bubbled up to the surface, as though he'd been living a lie. The emotion caused him to cry for reasons that were inexplicable to him.

Bad Boys on the Street

Billy Tough and Jazzy Jim walked down the street. They were absolute bad boys. The older people on the block were afraid of them. Billy Tough had no sleeves on his t-shirt. Jazzy Jim had a hole in his jeans.

"Here come those bad boys again." said Grey Hair Harold, as he stood behind his wife Ethel, and put his hands protectively on her shoulders.

Then the beat kicked in.

"I'm a rude crude dude with an attitude. I'm walkin' down street and I think I'm really neat." said Billy Tough.

The neighborhood let out a frightened gasp. Then Jazzy Jim chimed in.

"Take a look at my face and you'll see some stubble, take a look at my muscles and you know I'm trouble." said Jazzy Jim, as he flexed his arms.

"This neighborhood is going down the toilet." said Lyle the nervous shop owner.

Billy Tough and Jazzy Jim walked into Lyle's shop. Lyle was worried.

"I walk into the shop and I just don't stop!" rapped Billy Tough.
"I don't want any problems, boys. This isn't a hang out spot. You kids get out of here if you're not going to buy anything." said Lyle.

Then Jazzy Jim spoke a warning, "I'm gonna tell you how I feel, it's about to get real!
"Take a listen, Mister! His words are gonna blister!" said Billy Tough.
"Slap me some skin, it's about to begin!" said Jazzy Jim, as he put his hand out and Billy Tough slipped his hand across it.
"I'm gonna buy a slurpee and it's gonna make me burpee." said Jazzy Jim.
"A pocket of air is gonna come from somewhere!" said Billy Tough.
"The air comes from stomachs and it's gonna make ya flummoxed!' said Jazzy Jim.

Jazzy Jim loved slurpees but he had digestive trouble and would burp a lot from eating things with too much sugar.

"That will be two dollars and nine cents." said Lyle. The bad boys paid for the slurpee and went and frightened more people in the neighborhood.

The Grand Fellow's Ball

Lionel the Grand Fellow was pleased to find himself invited to the Grand Fellow Ball. He knew he was a true Grand Fellow through and through.

"Lionel you most certainly are a Grand Fellow." some people would say.
"Why thank you." Lionel would say.

The big day came for the Grand Fellow Ball. Lionel wore his finest coat. He had reserved his place in line. He knew he was in welcomed company amongst many other a Grand Fellow. Though he privately allowed himself to believe in his heart that his grandness exceeded his fellow Grand Fellows.

The Grand Fellow Ball was the ball of the year. It was the place to be. And the place to be seen.

"This sure is a long line." said Richmond the Gentle.
"My dear, I don't understand why we are made to wait." said Sigfried the Fop.

Lionel stood there quietly. He felt the same way. Time went on. The line stood still. The fellow in line had grown quite weary. Other fellows, who seemed not as grand, would in one way or another manage to bypass the line.

"Why are they admitted when we are omitted?" said Clanson the Bright.
"We aren't omitted, we just haven't received admission." said Randible the Wise.
"They progress. We wait." observed Clanson.

Lionel began to feel discouragement. Especially when he watched Ulysses the Muck, who was by no means a grand fellow, nor a fellow grander than Lionel, be granted immediate entrance. Lionel's grand confidence was like warm air, pushed from the balloon of his outer being.

"Might I suggest that there is nothing like an ignored line to make one feel not grand?" declared Lionel.
"Patience is a grand virtue." snapped Cliven the Brewer.
"Perhaps the grandest moment is where you are right now?" proclaimed Georgie the Fellow, to which all the other waiting fellows applauded.

Lionel mulled these proverbial statements over. He had been shamed. He hoped the sham of his grandiosity would not be revealed any further. He put on a hard expression resembling something grand and survived the night.

Do Not Read This

John Yawn yawned after he caught a poison-yawn from Yolanda. Yolanda was a regular lady but she was also a witch. She yawned in John's direction to cause him to yawn. John Yawn fell for Yolanda. They got married and became John and Yolanda Yawn.

Yolanda and John had a spawn. They didn't know what to name him. People suggested things like, Todd and Claude and Maude and Shawn and Marlon and Dawn and Raekwon. Yolanda and John settled on Yon. Yon Yawn was born and bored those around him. He met a man named Juan and fawned over Juan, but Yon's fawns bored Juan because Yon had the stink of a poison-yawn. Also Juan's limited English made it hard to respond.

"I have feelings for you." said Yon.
Everything Yon Yawn said caused Juan's thoughts to wander.

"Why don't you respond?" asked Yon.

The other big reason was that Yon just kept going on, and on, and on, and on, and on.

Juan sat there dozing off. Juan had contracted Yon's mom's poison-yawn from Yon. Before anyone knew it, Juan let out a big long yawn. This Juan-yawn caused Yon to yawn. Yon had caught his own dad and mom's poison-yawn.

Meanwhile at the Yawn home. Yolanda Yawn sat at home and yawned.

Yolanda's poison-yawn had spread through town. It was like she waved a magic wand. Even God looked down on the town and caught the poison-yawn.

"I'm so sleepy I can't tell the difference between dusk or dawn." said God.

John Yawn knew something was wrong. He walked out on the lawn. There was a woman on the lawn letting out a long yawn. John walked past his lawn and saw everyone on the street was gone. They were almost all sitting and sleeping at home cursed with the poison-yawn. Yolanda's con had gone on too long. John Yawn and to break free and become more than a pawn. Falling for Yolanda made John feel like a moron. The world and God had been infected, and it was the fault of John Yawn.

"I have to change my name from John Ya--" he caug--he catched himself!
"I'm changing my name to John Yeeeeee!" he screamed.

John Yeeeeee! set out to save the world and was very careful about what he said and how he said it. He didn't want to drone... about, drone about, yeah.. He could not even tell his tale, for the tale itself would infect people with the poison-... well, you know.

John Yeeeee! stayed energetic, noisy and spoke in a high-pitched voice for the rest of his life. It was the least John Yeeeeee! could do.

Reginald the Sick Fuck

Reginald the Sick Fuck was very active in the community. He loved to garden. He participated in Book Club and made the best suggestions. He coordinated events for charity. He entertained elderly people and also documented great stories from their youth so that their younger loved ones could hear wise life lessons from them. He did so much. He loved his family. They always came first. His wife Bethesda loved him.

"Reginald, I am concerned that you are wearing yourself out." said Bethesda.
"I am quite tired." said Reginald.
"Do you remember the phone number for the phone company?" she asked.
"Um.." said Reginald.

Reginald normally remembered the number. Bethesda was asking because she had a friend who worked in the customer service department and she wanted to call and chat with the friend. Now she had to look it up.

"No no, I'll look it up. It'll come right back to me." said Reginald.
"I need to talk to my good friend!" said Bethesda.

Reginald was tired, he was really losing his touch. He was getting sick of doing all this good stuff. He sat on the couch and zoned out. He could barely think straight. He started running his fingers through his hair. He felt a bump on his scalp. It was a scab. He started picking and pulling at it. It hurt. It was gross. But he got joy from it. What a sick fuck. No one in the house, his kids, Bethesda, or the dog, knew what he had done. He looked at the scab on his fingers. It was big.

"You feel better don't you, you sick fuck." said the big scab.
"Yeah." said Reginald, smiling.
"Well good. Now throw me outside and forget about me. Just focus on the pleasure you got from picking at me. Then forget about me and go do some good deeds. You sick disgusting gross man with a dark secret."
"Okay." said Reginald, grinning big.
"Remember, don't tell anyone that you did this." said the head scab.

Reginald got a second wind from that. He went and raised a bunch of money for disadvantaged children.

Bethesda was having an affair with someone at the phone company. Reginald didn't even mind.

Fiasco at the Mall

It seemed like a normal day at the crowded mall. People were walking around. Lyle saw Shelby.

"Hi, how are you!?" said Lyle, as he reached out to shake hands with Shelby. Shelby put her hand forward and shook his hand, then their hands both exploded because of repellent pheromones or chromosomes or something.

Anyway blood and bone and hand particle got everywhere. Even on Denny.

"Splat" said the bloody hand piece as it hit Denny's shirt.
"Hey I love this shirt! What gives??" said Denny.

Then Denny realized what had landed on him.
"Ooh! Yum yum yum!" Denny was a bloodlicking freak and he started licking the blood and sucking on the finger bones right then and there.

Denny had outed himself as a blood eater.

"That guy's a blood eater! Get him!" said Larry the bystander.
"I'm a cop, I'll get him!" said Officer Jones, who was an undercover security guard.
"Ew those guys' hands blew up!" said Becky the bystander.

Back over at Lyle and Shelby, they knelt before a few pieces of their bones and muscle on the floor. Lyle picked a piece of bone up.

"Is this yours or mine?" he said.

Shelby reached for the bone with her handless hand to take it.

"Oops wrong hand!" said Shelby.
"Hey how come you aren't screaming?" asked Lyle.
"Because I'm in shock." said Shelby.
"I'm in shock too." said Lyle.
"I think you're handsome." said Shelby.
"You're handsome too." said Lyle.
"Thank you." said Shelby.
"I'm gonna kiss you."
"Okay." said Shelby, and then she puckered.

Lyle leaned in to kiss her.

"Wait!" said Shelby, but it was too late. He kissed her and both their heads exploded. Because of the pheromones thing. There was probably some better scientific explanation. But it's beyond my science comprehension. I swear this stuff happens.

Anyway, so their heads exploded. This caused all hell to break loose. People were scared and screaming. They ran around flailing their arms. People threw their department store purchases off the balcony. Kids got separated from their parents. Teenagers stopped holding hands.

"I gotta pee-pee!" cried and whined a little kid.
"Just pee yourself, kid, you have my permission right now because shit's going nuts." said his babysitter, who was a guy.
"Hey boys shouldn't be babysitting, can't you get a real job?" said a guy who worked at a video game store.
"Like you?" said the male babysitter.
"Yeah my job rules!" said the video game guy.
"Well you're a sexist pig who doesn't love children!" said the male babysitter. Then he punched out the video game guy. Meanwhile the kid peed and kept peeing.

"Now the blood eater is licking the brains off the floor!" shouted Larry the bystander again.
"Yum yum yum yum!" said Denny the blood eater.
"Get em!" shouted Larry.
"I'm on it!" said Officer Jones, from far away.
"Huh? Who me?" said Denny, as he popped his head up. Then he looked around and made a run for it.

Officer Jones lost Denny in the confusion of the crowd. Denny got away. He knew his love for eating blood would get him in trouble, so he went home and set all the pictures of his face on fire and also set his own face on fire. Then Denny called 911.

"Help! I'm a guy whose face is on fire!" he screamed into the phone.

911 was able to save Denny's life, but not his face, which is what Denny wanted. Denny got to eat some of his own face blood from the burn and he got a new face. They took his skin off his butt and thighs and put it on his face. No one could identify Denny as a blood eater. He was free to sneak eat blood until he got caught again.

"I wouldn't change a thing." said Denny at the end of his life.

Still sad for everyone else. Lyle just wanted to be nice.

Big Jill Grits is Bad

Big Jill Grits was a tough mean bitch. She had dirt teeth, leathery skin and one eyebrow. She also had a sweet doggie named Duffer.

"Duffer, I'm gonna kill you." she said to it.
"Ruff." said Duffer.

Duffer looked around. Duffer was so loyal to Big Jill. Jill drove her truck to the edge of a cliff to throw Duffer off the cliff.

"Hmm maybe I should shoot you instead." she said to Duffer.
"Bark!" said Duffer.

Big Jill Grits said "Maybe I'll tie ya up in the bark yard and not give you any food."
"Arf." said Duffer.

She headed home. Duffer sat in the passenger seat.

"I ought to just have you put down" she said to Duffer.
"Woof." said Duffer.

She went home and poured Duffer a bowl of dog food and a bowl of water.
"I think I'll poison your food." she Jill.
"Bow wow." said Duffer.

She took Duffer on a walk the next day.
"I'm gonna take ya off this leash and let you run into traffic." said Big Jill.
"Pant pant pant." said Duffer.

She didn't take it off the leash. They walked past a big tough mean dog that barked.
"I'm gonna let that dog attack and rip you to shreds." Jill said to Duffer.
"Grrrrowl." Duffer said to the dog.

Then the big mean dog got out of the fence and charged Duffer. It's jowls shook and it's ferocious bark got louder as it quickly neared Duffer's throat. Then Big Jill jumped in front of the big dog and screamed "Get back!!" at it. Jill's alpha dog demeanor and threatening stance scared the big dog. The big dog backed up nervously, made a little grumble noise, and went back behind the fence.

"I'm gonna leave you in a dumpster." said Big Jill Grits to Duffer.
"Rarf." said Duffer.

Big Jill Grits shaved her head one day and people thought it was generally a good look for her. Big Jill Grits never did kill Duffer and Duffer lived a great doggie life.

Scribblemania

"Everyone make a thing!" said the Motivator Lady.

Little Duke made a scribble and got all the beans. People liked his the best. Sally made a piece of crud. No one liked it. Tumpy made a stack, no one cared. Edgar made a hroggle. No one knew what that was.

But Little Duke's scribble was the crowning achievement. It made it to the next level of judgement. It passed. Then it made it to the even next level of achievement, it surpassed all competition. It made it to the final level. It won. It was rewarded generously. Little Duke received all the beans.

Like Duke wore his crown of Bean King achievement. They were all talking about his scribble.

"I can't believe your scribble."
"Are you gonna make more scribble?"
"I love your scribble. My granddad loves your scribble."
"I have sweatpants. Can you make scribble themed sweatpants?"

Beans poured in for Little Duke in honor of his little scribble.

He had no shortage of beans. Little Duke needed to do more though. He couldn't just coast off his one scribble. There was more to him.

"Hey everyone. I'm working on a new scribble." said Little Duke.

Scribblemania was ablaze. They didn't even expect more scribble. They were rabid for it though. This put pressure on Duke for the scribble. No matter what happened. Duke was still the Bean King. He could never be dethroned of that, that's for sure.

"We are freaking out with this new scribble anticipation." said everyone.

Then came time for Little Duke to make the new scribble.

"I'm a little nervous about making another scribble." said Duke, as he thought about it. He tried a different technique and it was impressive, but it did not satisfy the appetites, imaginations, and expectations set by the original scribble. The masses were furious.

"I wonder if Little Duke is sad that everyone hates his scribble." said a one guy

"Are you kidding? Little Duke has more beans than he knows what to do with." said the other.

But Little Duke did care. He was sad. Because he had a young childhood programming that caused him to feel a sense of sadness and isolation when he experienced the familiar feeling of rejection. And all the beans in the world didn't make it go away.

Then Little Duke said "You know I'm tired of scribbles and I'm tired of beans. I'm gonna keep a few beans and give away the rest to people who really love beans. You can make scribbles too if you like."

Then Guggy the Sneak, who was a crapeater, came in and was like "Hey guys I'm gonna make a scribble like Little Duke's first scribble. You guys are gonna love it." And the foolish masses ate it up, even though it was crapeater territory. And Guggy the Sneak capitalized off Little Duke's original scribble and swam in beans forever. 

Don't feel bad for Little Duke though. He still had plenty of beans.

The Strategic Gunfight

Dan Pudge had a gun. Topper Damski had a gun too. Dan Pudge didn't like Topper Damski. Topper Damski knew how to turn on the charm.

Dan Pudge pointed his gun at Topper Damski. Topper point his back.

"I'm gonna shoot!" said Dan.
"Ya might mess my hair." said Topper.
"I'll mess more than that, buddy."
"No, see I was bein' clever, didn't ya get it?"
"Oh."
"Obviously it'd mess more than my hair."
"I knew it was a joke."
"Did ya really?"
"Yeah I'm just not as skilled at hyperbole as you! So shut up!" said Dan Pudge.
"What you gonna do after you shoot me?" asked Topper Damski.
"I don't know." said Dan.
"You gonna go brag and tell someone?"
"No... Maybe." said Dan.
"Think the bragging will feel good?" asked Topper.

Dan thought for a second. He was getting frustrated.

"Ah hell," said Dan, "I don't wanna shoot you."
"Alrighty that's fine with me." said Topper.
"I'll bet it's more than fine with you." said Dan Pudge.
"I know, that was the joke I was making. Obviously it's more than fine."
"Oh. Yeah..."
"Say why was you gonna shoot me anyway?" asked Topper.
"Cuz of a girl."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"I'm gay."
"Oh?"
"Mmhmm."
"So you don't like my girl?"
"Not like you do."
"I'll be honest, I don't like her like that either. I'm gay and have been hiding it a long time."
"Well, let me know if you need any advice on how to navigate this unique gay odyssey we call life."
"Hey thanks, Topper. You know, I thought I couldn't trust you because you seem so witty and clever."
"Well, I was worried I couldn't trust you because you seem so angry and dumb." said Topper.

Dan Pudge took out his gun, emptied the bullets in a garbage can.
"I don't need this no more." said Dan, and plopped his gun in the river.
"You sure don't." said Topper. Then Topper shot Dan.

Then Topper went and robbed a bank, made love to Dan's girl and made love to a handsome man. Then he faded into history.

Unsteady Betty

Unsteady Betty was reading the newspaper and eating toast. Her fingers were covered in jam. The newspaper was smudgy and newspapery, like all newspapers are. Normally she'd be like "Ah screw it," and keep reading but this morning felt a little off. She licked the jam off her fingers and then, even though she didn't really taste anything, felt grossed out because she had just touched the newspaper. And even though a newspaper isn't dirty per se, it kind of feels like dirt. So she felt like she was licking jam flavored dirt. Not to mention the pages were getting all sticky.

"Ew." she said.

Unsteady Betty got up to go wipe and wash her hands. She walked to the sink. She grabbed the knob to turn it and grabbed it right off. She was holding it in her hand. She looked at it like "Huh?". Then she thought "Oh darn." It just broke right off in her sticky dirty fingers. No water sprays or geysers. Then she figured she'd better try the other knob. That one broke off too and sprayed all the way on to the ceiling and everywhere. It dripped down on top of her.

"Oh shoot." she said.

She tried to cram the knob back on over the spray beam of the water. That didn't work. She squatted on the floor to open the cabinets and cut off the water from the pipes but a squeaky floorboard gave and a gust of dust from under the floorboard clouded into the air and combined with the water and made her dirtier. She went to grab a bucket and all the brooms and mops that were leaning on the cabinet fell out and bopped her on the head. She picked a bucket and ran back to the water, but she ran so hard that she shook the room, rattling the walls, and it knocked a loose picture off the wall. Before could slow her momentum, as she passed the picture, her sweater got caught on the nail in the wall that hung the picture. It ripped.

"Oh no, I like this sweater. Darn that picture and nail!" she said.

Then she went and put the bucket under the geyser landing to fill it up. It quickly filled to the top and spilled all over the floor. Then an earthquake happened and shook everything else in the house. Unsteady Betty lost her balance and fell down.

"Ouch!" she said.

All the faucets spouted water. A beam supporting part of the ceiling broke and caved the roof in. She didn't get hurt. Then from a hole in floor another geyser spouted up but this was a geyser of oil from the ground. A large oil corporation with lots of lawyers were able to claim that the oil was their's, due to a strange technicality with the city zoning laws, so she didn't get any money from it.

She didn't get to read the paper and overall the rest of the day was ruined because of that bad start in the morning. But because of all the water, she at least got the sticky and dirt feeling off her fingers.

A Fly on the Wall

Hi I'm a fly on the wall. I was initially really excited to be a fly on the wall. People are always saying "Boy I'd like to be a fly on the wall." Or so I thought. I guess the full expression goes "Boy I'd like to be a fly on the wall for that conversation." Meaning you get to be present for something exciting.

The part they don't talk about as much is that flies on the wall have a pretty short life expectancy. So if you don't get a real juicy conversation you're screwed.

I was on the wall this one time for this guy who walked into a room with this woman. It was loud outside the room.

"I have a confession." said the man.
"Tell me" she said.
"I had a nose job." he said.
"Really?"

Now I gotta pause here for a moment. I'm just a fly on the wall. I was probably born just a few hours ago. Now I'm stuck in this room. My frame of reference is flying, light, trees, fecal matter, fecal matter, fecal matter. You hear what I'm saying? I don't even know what a nose job is. Or if that's a thing that is bad or good. So anyway back to what I heard on that wall.

"Yes I had a nosejob. My nose was so big before. I was ashamed of it." He said.

Let me remind you, I don't know what ashamed means.

"Oh I see." She said.
"Yeah it was a big honking nose. People would call me 'noseface' growing up."
"Oh wow."
"Is that a problem?" he asked.
"It shouldn't be, but..."
"But what?"
"...I'm pregnant." she said.
"Gasp." he said.
"I know, I should have told you."
"...is it...?"
"Yours. It's yours, of course." she said.
"Oh wow."
"Are you happy?"
"Yes, but."
"But what?" she asked.
"I'm happy we're going to have a child but... but he'll have my big nose."
"Oh." she said.
"Should we abort it?"
"Hmm... we'll talk about it. Let's go back to the party for now."

Then I never found out if they kept the child or not. Or if that is something that is a good or bad thing, keeping a child. So that was about as juicy as it got. Seemed pretty juicy. But I didn't have any frame of reference. I'm guessing that couple was pretty vain, but maybe they were nice people I can't tell.

Then a girl from the party came in and vomited in a tiny garbage can.

Then it was quiet and dark for a while, a couple of days. Maybe a week. I think the house was big. I got lost in it, that's how I wound up in that room.

Then this other fellow came in and masturbated. He didn't see me. Then I died. Sure was something, being a fly on that wall.

Why Jimmy Hates Turtlenecks

Hey what's up my name is Jimmy Schmutz and I'm a happening guy who don't mess around. I like girls and being slick, but sometimes I see some crazy stuff, because I'm a bad boy who gets into trouble, and I stick my nose where it don't belong. I also talk too much, I guess it's my Pop's fault, god rest his soul. He talked a lot. That's what got him killed.

"And lemme tell ya another thing." said Pop Schmutz. And,
"Bang!" said a death noise. He was dead. Case unsolved.

So one time I got mad at my mom because she tried to make me wear a turtleneck. Because turtlenecks were real fashionable at the time and my mom loved fashion magazines.

"It's the latest look!" she said.

But she was wrong. Turtlenecks had been around for a while. But slowing growing and getting more popular. And I hate turtlenecks. I hate em because they remind of this son of a prick Raoul who always wore a turtleneck. He thought he was so smart. But one time I followed him home to his house. He lived in this complex house with fancy architecture.

He was rude to me a bunch, that's why I didn't like him. Okay anyway, so I follow him home to his cold weird house. I sneak inside the house from this tunnel dug out at the side of the house. I didn't know how I knew it was there. I just knew it. Like I'd been there, but I hadn't.

I hid inside the house to watch Raoul. He went inside his house and shouted in his pretentious voice "Darling I'm home." Then he froze and didn't say another word. Then his wife came out of the room. And she had eyes like a demon and she was breathing smoke and holding a meat clever. And she was like,

"Did you bring me a child?" in this hellish demonic deep scratchy voice. You might think she was saying she wanted a baby with Raoul but if ya ask me she wanted to sacrifice a kid or something.

Then Raoul's Pa walked in and said "Raoul is charging."
Then the demon wife was like "Where's my child?"
"A child will come. Patience!" said Raoul's Pa.
"I shall not wait! Bring. Children. Now!!" then she growled, and her evil eyes turned evil bright red, swear to Christ.

Then Raoul's Pop's eyes turned bright red too, but his looked all mechanical. Like a car cigarette lighter, then he shot lasers out of em at Raoul's wife but she dodged em and they ricocheted off the shiny titanium walls and hit Raoul in the head and his head cracked open and it was full of wires and stuff. He wasn't even fuckin' human!

"Damnit now we must bring a new Raoul!" said the Pa in this robotty voice. Then a new Raoul entered the room and he was nude you could see his penis and butt and everything. He was in pretty good shape.

"Here I am, Father." said the nude Raoul. "But I am human." then he grabbed an exacto-knife and cut himself and bled, so you know he was for real human. But then he opened a closet because he was cold and as soon as he opened it he was like "No! No! Not the shirt!" and he got swallowed by this giant pus sack lookin' placenta pod thing and it sucked him in and spat him back out, and then he was wearing a turtleneck. Like the first Raoul.
"I'm back, father and wife." he said.
"Bring me a child!" said the demon wife.

Something about that turtleneck.

Right about then I realized I probably shouldn't be there so I turned around to find the hole again. I crawls back out and pulls myself up into the dirt. From across the way I see another turtlenecked Raoul walking in to the house. This was freaky to me, ya know? So I ran the other direction. Then I saw another me tagging behind the other Roaul. Then the me that I saw stumbled his way to the hole, confused as to why he knew where the hole was too. But he still jumped inside of it.

I gotta tell ya, after that incident I was certain there were some things going on in the world that I wouldn't be able to understand even if someone explained them to me. Like, how did I know that hole would lead me into the house? And how did the other me know the hole would lead me into the house? And how did there become another me? I could have hung out all day and watched other mees go in and out of that hole. But something tells me it would have clogged up the natural pattern of where my life is supposed to go and there'd be a long line of Jimmy Schmutzes today waiting to tell you this story. So I just figured keep moving and don't worry about those other mees. Hopefully they won't die by getting hit by lasers. Hopefully if that happens that won't like make the me right now not exist or something. I don't know, I'm not going to over think it.

One thing's for certain. If you see me with a turtleneck. Know that that ain't me. It's probably some pus pod robot that's replaced one of the Jimmies occupying my path. And not me. So kill that guy if ya see him.

Great Day for Willie Scraggs

Willie Scraggs was an old feller with saggy pants. He walked with a waddle. He had sandpaper cheeks. His bottom buns were very sandpapery too. But no one touched those cheeks of his. Except his toilet seat.

"Ouch! Scratchy!" said his toilet seat.

"You shad up!" said Willie Scraggs.

Willie Scraggs' sandpapery cheeks were so rough that he could smooth out a fine hand crafted table with his face. All he had to do was not shave for a few days and drink a lot.

Willie Scraggs walked into the bar one day. Enthused as ever.

"Gimme a bottle a swill, baby!"

The bartender slapped him a shot.

"What you glowin' for like you is, Willie Scraggs?"

"I had me a good day is why!"

"What happened?" asked the bartender.

Willie took a breath, took a swig, smiled and said, "Well last night I passed out here on the rough bar counter, I had a bad dream, tossed and turned, woke up and the counter was nice and smooth!"

"Ha ha, that's a good one!"

"It''s the truth! But hold on I ain't finish."

"Do tell." said the bartender.

"Well you ever turn on the news?"

"Sure every now and then."

"Well I went and ran into one of them pretty blondes from the morning news."

"Ooh I like them blondes."

"Yep, that's right and we made love."

"I don't believe ya."

"Now we're getting married!" said Willie Scraggs.

"You're sure it's her?" asked the bartender.

"I'm ownna have purty babies with her purfect genes!" declared Willie.

Just then the blonde news lady Willie was talking about burst into the bar.

"Willie Scraggs!" she screamed.

"It's my baby." said Willie, as he turned around.

When he looked at the pretty news lady he saw that her face had been completely scratched off, like someone had rubbed sandpaper on it for hours and hours. It was a blank bloody wall of flesh and ooze with a screaming mouth.

"You kissed my face off you son of a bitch."

"Uh oh." said Willie.

"I just got fired for it! I needed my pretty face to read the news, and I got fired cuz it's gone." 

Then she left and slammed the door.

"I don't believe that was really her," said the bartender, "Couldn't see her face."

"Well, better have another drink." said Willie.

Special Day

Simple Sam walked out onto his porch and said "Wow this is a joyous day." The day was Special Day. Everyone's favorite holiday.

"I love today too! And I love you!" said Joe passing by.

"My child and I were just coming out to declare the exact same words you have just spoken, Sam." said Sue, the neighbor and her son, Dobbs.

"I beat you to the punch, Sue." smiled Sam.

"That's okay with me. Especially on Special Day." said Sue.

Another neighbor, Mike, stepped outside and said the same thing as Simple Sam.

"What a joyous day!"

"Oh, hehe, Mike! I just said the same thing a moment before you came outside."

"Oh. I'm sorry I didn't realize that." said Mike with a smile.

"No, no, no problem. We both feel the same way about it." said Sam

"You'll find no conflict on the subject from me!" said Mike.

"I love the joy I feel on Special Day." said Jake, who was standing outside basking in the sunlight.

"Uh oh! Everyone stop right now!" it was the mailman. He had just pulled up, screeched his mailman mobile on the side of the road and jumped out. 

"Gasp!" said everyone.

"What's wrong?" said more everyone.

"Why isn't everyone dancing?!" shouted the mailman.

Everyone started dancing to the song that was most popular and associated with Special Day. It was a hit song.

"PS I love working on Special Day and don't even want the day off!" said the mailman.

"I just agree with the rest of you!" said Jeff the fellow, who danced.

"Add me to the mix of people who experience the joy on Special Day." said Kate.

"No need to add, you're already part of it." said Mike.

"No one has any cynicism about Special Day." said Joan, the observational lady.

"Special Day is the way it should be." said Ralph.

"I'm not worried about people making profit off my love of Special Day. Same goes for advertisers, financial gainers, losers, or those more in need or less in need on Special Day!" said Marvin.

"Neither are any of the people you listed! They all love Special Day too!" said Beth.
"I know!" said Marvin.

"No one has a dark, skeptical, or angry spin on how Special Day is bad." said Joan.

"We would welcome them if they did!" said Kate, Jeff and Sam all at once.

"I agree. There just isn't a negative take on Special Day." said Henrietta.

"Do you love Special Day, Joan?" asked Chris.

"More than anything." said Joan, the observational lady.

"Everyone loves Special Day!" said Brent.

"Special Day is the special way." said Sue, with wide piercing eyes.

They all continued to dance! Many of the people celebrating Special Day took the streets to wish others a special day.

"Please have a special day!" they'd say.

"I already was! Have a special day." said one fellow.

"Have a special day." they said again.

"You don't have to tell me. My Special Day is very special. You should have a special day." said another lady.

"We are having a Special Day. Stay Special." they said back.

"Have a special day!" said some people who came up to them.

"You have a special day!" they said back.

"We will. You too."

They walked more, growing larger.

"Please have a special day!" they'd say to more people they saw..

It almost seemed like there was no point in telling everyone to have a special day, because they couldn't find a single person who wasn't having a special day or needed to be told to have a special day on Special Day. Yet, every person who was having a special day loved being told to have a special day and loved telling everyone to have a special Day. No one was brightened by the salutation of "Have a special day!" because they were already bright, and eager to give the salutation.

"Have a special day now." said one.

"You have a special day." said another.

"Have a special day." said others.

"Have a special day." said another back.

"I hope you're having a special day."

"Enjoy your Special Day."

"Have a special day."

"Have a special day now."

"Please have a very special day."

"A special day to you."

"Happy Special Day!"

"Special Day is your day."

"Please have a very Special Day."

"Have a special day..."

And it continued. It was everywhere. It was big. It was perfect. It spread. It grew. It's growth was relative, though. Because it was mutual. It was sustained for the whole of Special Day. Special Day was very special. Special Day is very special. Special Day is the way. Won't you have a special day?

John the Golf Guy

John the Golf Guy wanted to win his game of Golf with a good score. He was golfing alone, but he imagined he was golfing with a competitive friend. He hit his little ball and it flew to near the hole.

Now was the moment he'd been waiting for. The putt time. He took his golf stick that was used for putts. He put his putt stick down on the ground next to the little ball. He wanted to hit that little ball right. He imagined higher stakes for himself.

"I'd hit that ball better than you if I were there." said his imagined competitive friend.
"Shh." said John the Golf Guy.

John stepped away from the putt for a second. He needed a putt break. This putt was becoming stressful.

"Why'd I have to imagine that?!" he said to himself, regarding the stakes-raiser that his imagined competitive friend had tossed his way.
"Because just a simple relaxing putt would be too easy." said the imagined competitive friend.
"Hey, that may be true but it's actually causing me stress." said John
"Uh oh well healthy competition is good, but don't be too stressed." said the competitive friend.
"I need a baby aspirin now, I think." said John.
"Uh oh, well be mindful of the tee-time that started after you." said the imagined competitive friend.
"Oh!" said John.

John went back to his putt because he was taking too much time. There was another tee time behind him. This was now posing a significant stake raiser. Not an imagined one. The imagined competitive game mate he'd imagined so he could have some healthy stake-raising competition had now given him something to truly worry about. In addition to the putt he was already worried about.

John looked down at his little ball. He needed to make a significant tap to putt it into the little hole. He really wanted to get the little ball in the little hole in one little tap. Sweat beads formed on his forehead. He was really feeling the burn about this putt.

"Please putt well." he said to himself.

He looked behind him. He didn't see the tee time behind him coming, but he knew it wouldn't be long. Stalling would do no good. Getting the little ball in the hole with two putts also be bad. John's blood pressure was skyrocketing.

"I'm concerned," said imagined competitive friend, "that you'll miss if you don't try for two putts."

John had his pride. He went for one putt to make it in the little hole. He missed. He had a heart attack. He died. He laid there for a few minutes before he died. He could have been saved if he'd waited a bit longer for the tee time behind him to get closer. But that tee time was taking his time and relaxing with his golf game. John's family got a lot of life insurance. He was rich.

The Sneaky Monster

The Sneaky Monster came and scared the kid at night.
"Wahhhh" cried the kid.

The Sneaky Monster scared many kids.
"Haw haw haw haw!" he laughed.

The Sneaky Monster kept scaring kids until the kids, parents, and everyone just decided it would be best to ignore the Sneaky Monster.

Kids and folks went about their business. They'd play and eat and run around and be polite to people like nice kids do. One time the kids were playing at a playhouse. Sneaky Monster came around.

"Rahhh!" he said.

The kids kept playing. They didn't really pay him much mind. One kid, who was pretending to be a Notary, when the kids were playing Notary Public, had to walk to his table to get his imaginary stamp ink pad. The Sneaky Monster was standing in the way going "Rahhhh!" and the kid just walked around him, grabbed his imaginary ink pad, and went back to notarizing imaginary documents with the other kids.

Sneaky Monster didn't know what to do. He started coming around and just hanging out, but he would still get ignored. One time the kids were playing Customer Service and the Sneaky Monster tried to return an imaginary product but the kid pretending to be the main customer service representative just said "Next in line please." and the other kids passed Sneaky Monster by.

"Anybody wanna play DMV?" asked Sneaky Monster, "I'll be the DMV Lady!" he said.
None of the kids responded to him.

The Sneaky Monster was feeling left out that no one was including him in their fun time.
"Hey why's everyone seem to not like me? That don't seem fair." said the Sneaky Monster.
Everyone ignored The Sneaky Monster.
"Hey you guys! You guys act like you don't even care about me!"
Everyone ignored Sneaky Monster more.
"Hey! I really mean it this time! Why you all give me the cold shoulder!?"
"Because you scared us all, you jerk!" said kids.
"What, no I didn't!" said Sneaky.
"Fine. I'm not going to argue with you about whether you scared us or not. I've got newspapers to deliver!" said one kid, then he went back to playing Newspaper Carrier.

The Sneaky Monster got all huffy and puffy. Sneaky Monster thought because people stopped acknowledging that he was being sneaky and scary that maybe they forgot and he wouldn't have to deal with his behavior or apologize. He was real indignant about it.

The Sneaky Monster went and found some more kids to scare and the other kids went about their lives having learned a valuable lesson to avoid Sneaky Monster types.

The Ultimate Teamwork

One day a many big rocks fell from the sky and landed in front of the secret building out in the middle of nowhere. People would go to the secret building to get certain projects done.

Smartypants was working in the secret building that day. So was Muscleman. So the rocks fell just as Muscleman and Smartypants were reaching for the door handle to open and go inside.

"After you." said Muscleman.
"Oh you're very nice." said Smartypants.
"This door is heavy." said Muscleman
"Oh I'm sorry." said Smartypants.
"I'm just kidding, I could hold it all day."
"Oh hehe, that's funny." said Smartypants.

The two of them shared a moment as Muscleman held the door. They smiled at each other. That's when the rocks fell.

One rock fell and bopped Smartypants in the head. He fell down and held his head in pain. Another rock fell and knocked Muscleman to the ground. Then more rocks fell and blocked the doorway. Then even more rocks fell and covered Muscleman's body. It all happened so fast and his reflexes were slow because of the first initial fall he took.

Smartypants came to and stood up, his head still in pain.
"Oh no!" he said, as he looked to the ground. There was a giant pile of rocks completely pinning Muscleman to the ground. And blocking the door.
"I'm stuck." said Muscleman.
"My head hurts." said Smartypants.
"We've got to figure out a way out of this pickle." said Muscleman.
"Normally I'd have lots of smart ideas, but my head hurts." said Smartypants.
"Normally I'd muscle these rocks out of the way, but I'm stuck and don't know much beyond muscles!" said Muscleman.

Muscleman and Smartypants were in a situation where they had to work together. Only Muscleman was hurt so he had to use his brain and Smartypants had a headache so he had to use his limited muscles!

Muscleman would have to think of a plan while Smartypants would have to execute the heavy lifting.
Smartypants starting taking one rock off at a time because he was weak muscled. It was taking a long time.

"Hey Smartypants! I think there's a back entrance." said Muscleman.
"Oh yeah I forgot! Good thinkin', but how will I get in?" asked Smartypants.
"Think you can open the door?"
"I'll try."
"Hey wait I got another idea!"
"What is it, Muscleman?"
"When you get inside immediately to the right is my locker room. The locker has no combination because I'm bad at memorizing so just open the locker with my name on it and grab the big bottle of muscle oil!"
"Okay!" said Smartypants.

Muscleman didn't know about much, but he knew about muscle oil and all things muscle. So his expertise in this area was paying off, given Smartypants' temporary head handicap. Smartypants lumbered his way into the back and got the muscle oil. Muscleman told him to pour it into the rocks so it would oil everything up and he'd be able to slip and slide right out from under those rocks.

"Great idea!" said Smartypants.

Smartypants poured all the oil on the rocks and oiled up Muscleman's neck. The plan seemed like a great idea but it didn't work. They were stuck there for a while.

Blank Canvases Discuss Art

The Blank Canvas sat at the art supplies store in a pile of other blank canvases, just waiting to be purchased.

"I hope someone buys me and paints a masterpiece on me!" said the Blank Canvas.
"Slow down there, little fella!" said Old Blanky, a blank canvas who had been unpurchased for years.

Old Blanky was the canvas in the back collecting dust. He was turning slightly yellow because he'd been sitting there a while.

"Why?" said the Blank Canvas.
"Well, why ya in such a rush to get bought?" said Old Blanky.
"Because I want an artist to make a wonderful piece of art on me!!" said the idealistic Blank Canvas.
"Your prospects aren't great, kid." said the Cynical Canvas.
"Why?" said Blank Canvas.

Cynical Canvas and Old Blanky were real discouraging.

"No one who comes through this shop makes it very far." said Old Blanky.
"Don't expect more than a miserable high schooler making a brooding amateur piece of a dead flower, or a white hair retiree practicing a hobby." said Cynical Canvas.
"Well I'll bet I'm gonna be painted on by a master!" said Blank Canvas.
"Hey kid, if you're here then you probably ain't gonna be painted on by a master. This is a chain art supplies store. A master's gonna go somewhere expensive. Or build his own canvas." said Cynical Canvas.
"Except to maybe break our wood and slash us down the middle for a conceptual piece about wastefulness, where that's the whole point. Nooo thank you!" said Old Blanky.

Blank Canvas thought. He realized he needed to adapt to the real world but didn't want to his upright attitude to be completely sucked into the darkness.

"Hmm, well is it really our job to critique artists? We're just supplies who have no place passing judgement!" said Blank Canvas.

"Any way you cut it, there's no way out of here with your dignity intact. Either you're gonna be a part of some no-talent's lousy process, where they eventually give up, or you're gonna sit here and never touch any shade of color." chimed in Existential Pessimist Canvas, who had been sitting quietly.

"Existential Pessimist Canvas! You haven't spoken in ages!" said Old Blanky.
"You're basically just echoing the sentiments of what we've been saying." said Cynical Canvas.
"Well, maybe I wanted to be heard too." said Existential Pessimist.
"Well, so do some of the amateur artists that might buy us!" said Blank Canvas.

"Sounds like vomit!" said Cynical Canvas.

"Suppose you get your way, no one ever buys us, and we stay here til the world ends. We'll be here, totally blank, white, unused and wasted. You want that?" said Blank Canvas.

"Now you're speaking my language." said the Existential Pessimist.
"It's not going to make a difference whether we hang on someone's krap wall with gaudy strokes wiped on us for years then get sold, stored, or trashed, or if someone burns this store to the ground. We're still just krap takin' up space." said Cynical Canvas.
"You're right, there is no point to anything. What a waste." said Blank Canvas.

Blank Canvas's spirit had been broken. He sat and sulked with the rest of them.

Suddenly he got grabbed and bought by a performance artist who took a shit on him that night at a live show. The performance received rave reviews that compared and likened art supplies to human waste.

Blank Canvas was no longer blank and had cool indie cred.

Thanksgiving Hard

The family was having a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone was there. Dad was having a blast.

"Can't wait to carve up that gobble gobble gizzard!" said Dad.
"Ew not the gizzard!" said Daughter.
"Honey, stop! That's a silly joke." said Mom
"Hey Dad, can I help carve?" asked Son.
"No way! That's my job, ha ha." said Dad.

Dad started carving the turkey slices. Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle, Aunt, and Cousins began to set the table and bring out all the warm dishes.

"Yum!" said Cousins.
"Everything looks so good I'm gonna gobble it up!" said Uncle.
"Ha ha ha, you're too much." said Aunt.
"Get it?! Gobble it up?" said Uncle to Son and Daughter.
"Yes we get it." They said.
"I used to be the one who did the turkey carving!" said Grandpa.
"Let's say a nice prayer." said Grandma.
"I'm definitely gonna eat too much." said Uncle.
"Ooh, excuse me a moment." said Dad.

Uncle's comment about eating too much reminded him that he had to go use the bathroom before eating, and also to unbutton his top pant button in advance, so he would not feel too much discomfort when he over ate all the food they had purchased and cooked. Dad walked upstairs and into the bathroom. He looked in the mirror.

"You're a handsome Dad and Thanksgiving is going great, this year." he said to his reflection. Then he sat on the toilet.

A few moments later, he was still on the toilet. From downstairs he heard a slight commotion. He pulled up his pants, and buttoned the top button, which was not his plan. He ran out to the foot of the stairs and peeked down. It was terrorists! They'd invaded the wholesome family home on Thanksgiving.

"We want zeh gravy." said the Foreign Terrorist Leader. The other terrorists surrounded the house, except for upstairs were Dad was secretly watching.
"Where ees zeh head of zeh house?" asked the Leader.

"Everybody relax I'll handle this." whispered Uncle, to the rest of the family.

"Babe, Listen." schmoozed Uncle, "the head of the house was a deadbeat Dad, took off, hit the road. But, uh, I can give ya what ya want. You want stuffing? Dark meat? White, very popular right now. Cran-babies? I can even give ya some of the pie. But listen, that's my favorite part, so uh, what do ya say we split the pie, you and me? Fifty-fifty? Sixty-forty? Eh??"

The Foreign Terrorist Leader shot Uncle in the head and blew his brains out.
"We ah here for gravy! Lots ahf gravy." said the Leader, again.
"We only have one gravy boat full! Two tops!" said Mom.
"Please! Leave us alone." said Grandma.

Dad went crawling through the house's ventilation shaft and into the attic. The terrorists didn't know he was there so he was able to surprise them one by one and kill them all. Dad got one of the terrorist's machine guns. Dad's shirt got real dirty, but he kicked some major Thanksgiving Day terrorist butt. The Leader figured out that Dad hadn't hit the road and was killing all his terrorist henchmen. So he said he was going to kill Mom if Dad didn't show up and give him more gravy.

Dad ran into the Terrorist Leader in the bedroom and the Terrorist Leader pretended to be a family member with an American accent to trick Dad.
"Oh god, you are one of them aren't you! Don't kill me!" faked the Terrorist Leader.
"Relax I'm not gonna kill you." said Dad.
"Oh good, you must be the Dad. I'm your cousin Jerry. I just want some yummy gravy. " faked the Terrorist Leader. But Dad knew that he didn't have a cousin Jerry.
"You don't fool me!" said Dad. Then he punched the Terrorist Leader in the neck and threw him out the bedroom window where he fell to his death, by impalement.

Dad had saved the day and killed the terrorists. What a great dad!

"Alright everybody let's eat!" said Dad.
"What about all these dead bodies?" asked Son.
"First we're gonna have us a nice Thanksgiving dinner, we earned it and we deserve it!" said Dad. Then they ate way too much and unbuttoned all their top buttons.

One of the terrorists on the floor was still alive but he bled out and was dead by the time they served pie.