Threatened By Skies At Night

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Bob dropped his bong and looked up at the swirling green skies.
“Radical,” he whispered. “This needs Floyd.”
He went back inside, humming “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” while hunting for his iPod.
He found it, went back outside, and scanned his playlist.
“Damn,” he shouted. No Pink Floyd. Must have cleared it out.
He went back in to search for the files.
Gone.
He then dug through his CDs, but they were too scratched to rip.
Ten bucks and two hours download later, he synced up and went back outside.
The lights were gone, and so was his buzz.

Take Two Tablets And Pray To Me In The Morning

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Juan and his burro Steve went up the mountain to pick coffee beans.
A bush was on fire.
“I AM THE LORD JEHOVAH, GOD OF ABRAHAM,” it said.
Juan stared. Steve brayed.
“I HAVE TEN NEW COMMANDMENTS FOR MY CREATION!”
“Que?” said Juan.
The bush rustled.
“OH GREAT,” it said. ” DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?”
“Que?” said Juan.
“YOU… SPEAKA… ENGLISH?” the bush said, slower and louder.
“No habla,” said Juan.
“SHIT,” said the bush. “NEVER MIND THEN.”
Juan stared.
The flames grew. “LEAVE! GO! GET YOUR ASS OUT OF HERE!”
No more weed before harvesting, thought Juan, running away.

The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln 7

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Abe had his back to the wall, surrounded by an angry mob of generals.
“Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have said all that about you,” said Lincoln. “After all, you can always make horses, too. You just put a Mommy horse and a Daddy horse together and-”
They dragged him to the White House Hanging Tree. The generals threw the rope over a branch, tied the other end around his neck, and put him on the back of an old nag.
“GIDDYAP!” shouted General Grant, slapping the horse on the ass.
The horse ignored Grant, turned to Abe, and winked.

The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln 6

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The preacher shouted hellfire upon the congregation, waving his arms like a madman. He kept a stack of bibles by his pulpit, and he’d throw them at exhausted parishioners.
Twenty feet above, Abraham clung to the rafters.
He’d staked out this church for weeks, testing his drops and marking spots with chalk.
Wait for it… wait for it…
NOW!
The rafter creaked under his weight. The hive slipped from his grasp and fell on the choir director.
Oh well, he thought. When I hear a choir play, I like to see them act as if they were fighting bees, too.

The Adventures of Mustard Man – Chapter 5

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Dear Justice League of America,
It is with much regret that I must decline your invitation to join your esteemed organization. Not only am I an ordinary person who lacks superpowers or technological wonders to simulate superpowers, but I am under exclusive contractual obligation to the Mustard Man Brand Mustard Company.
However, should the world be under attack by mustard-vulnerable alien invaders, much like the Martians in the “War of the Worlds” story were fatally vulnerable to the common cold virus, then please do not hesitate to call upon me through my numeric pager.
Regards,
Mustard Man
Enclosed: sampler package.

The Final Twist

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They drive the backhoe off, jump into the hole, and shovel out the remaining dirt.
A crane lowers into the vault and bumps the casket.
“Who disturbs my rest?” I think.
They raise the casket, lay it on a gurney, and roll it into the truck.
Two hours later, the coroner cracks open the casket.
It’s so rare to see a body with a spear through its skull, but not everyone dies from mooning a Zulu tribe.
Somehow, this excites him.
Unspeakable, disgusting acts follow.
Finally, he takes my arm in his latex-covered hand and winds my watch.
Gee, thanks.

Thirty Pounds To Go

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Bob watched the man toss pizza dough up and down.
Up and down.
Up and down.
Bob drooled.
Just thirty pounds to go, he thought. I just need thirty more pounds.
Up and down.
Bob opened his wallet and looked at The Card.
LETTUCE, WATER, AND VITAMINS it said.
Up and down.
Bob tried to remember what a pizza tasted like.
His mouth tasted lettuce.
And water.
And the bitter pills.
Up and down.
Bob swore that once reached his goal weight, he’d bomb insurance company for rejecting his gastric bypass surgery.
Up and down.
Just thirty pounds to go.