Mirror mirror on the wall
Who is the fairest one if all
And how much does she charge per night?
Mirror mirror laying flat on the table
One line for me
One line for her
Unless she’s not into cocaine
Then I’ll do both
Mirror mirror on the ceiling
Not bad for fifty-seven
If I can’t see myself up there
Then there’s always the videotape
Mirror mirror on the side of the cab
She gives me her card, smiles, and is gone
I toss it in the trash
Mirror mirror in the bathroom
Move aside, I need my pills
If Cinderella’s glass slipper fit, why did it fall off?
And when it fell off, why didn’t it turn back into her ragged ordinary slipper when the clock struck midnight?
The horses turned back into mice.
The carriage turned back into a pumpkin.
Her ball gown turned back into the clothes she was wearing the day before.
So why not that slipper?
It’s because of the Fairy Godmother.
Why she didn’t just blast the wicked stepmother and the two sisters with her magic wand and make the prince her undying love slave, well, that’s because she was a manipulative bitch.
The night Max wore his wolf suit
And made mischief of one kind or another
His mother called him WILD THING!
And Max said “I’ll eat you up!”
While sending Max to his room
His mother had a stroke and collapsed
Max stood there, confused
He tried to wake up his mother
But she didn’t move at all
So, Max picked up the telephone
And called the emergency number.
They arrived a few minutes later
Put his mother on a stretcher
Covered her with a sheet
And took her away.
Child Services picked up Max
He never wore costumes again
As the old man sat on the stump of The Giving Tree, he pondered all that he had taken from his beloved friend.
Her leaves to make crowns.
Her apples to sell for money.
Her branches to build a house.
Her trunk to build a boat.
And what had he given her?
Clutching his chest, he let out a gasp, and died.
The Giving Tree laughed. “Serves you right, you greedy bastard.”
She laughed for hours, until the old man’s sons dug up her stump and carved a coffin from it, as the old man instructed in his will.
The first little pig built his god out of straw.
The second little pig built his god out of wood.
The third little pig built his god out of stone.
They fought amongst themselves as to which followed the true faith.
The wolf didn’t believe in any religious nonsense, but he was good at faking it.
One by one, he let the pigs “convert” him, taking all three of his would-be saviors captive.
The stone, he used for a roasting pit.
The wood made an excellent frame.
And the straw lit easily.
“By the gods, so delicious,” moaned the wolf.
Tony is a robot, an experiment in artificial intelligence and learning.
Joe goes down to the lab and reads books to the robot.
The robot listens quietly.
Once, after reading The Velveteen Rabbit, the robot asks if it could ever be alive.
Joe doesn’t know how to answer.
“I am the Velveteen Robot,” says Tony.
Joe shrugs, and brings in velvet for the robot to wrap in.
Tony bends its pair of antenna, wraps them like rabbit ears, sews on cotton for a tail.
Then it tries to hop, jars a power cable loose, and falls over with a thud.