Hood Ornament


Luis laughed as he tossed a rock over the railing down on to the busy freeway below.
“Missed,” said Jesus. “My turn.”
Jesus pulled a chunk of concrete from the crumbling curb and banged it against the road to break off the rough spots.
“This is for the win,” said Jesus.
Neither Luis nor Jesus heard the engine of the car that rammed them into the railing. Jesus died instantly while Luis coughed blood on the hood.
Luis looked through the cracked windscreen at the driver’s face.
“Game over, asshole,” is what he thought the driver said.
And then, nothing.

Rosetta Stone


Don’t assume by Galactic Standard that writing systems are all right-to-left. Even some of that language’s progenitor scripts went left-to-right and top-to-bottom.
Plask is the best example of a back-to-front script, and the intricate concentric design on my wall is actually an inside-out Helian manuscript. Toova is read like raindrops, scattered in a seemingly incomprehensible pattern only understood to their way of perception.
I’m fond of the scent-communications of Frond myself. The order you experience the various rich smells and tastes they emit determines the conceptual order.
Of course, all it took was one horrid fart to start a genocide.

Three Mighty Pirates


The mighty pirate gang sailed the ocean blue for treasure and glory.
“Yar!” shouted Smitty.
“Yar!” shouted Pegleg.
“Yar!” shouted Captain Blood.
Many galleons did they board, plunder, and send to Davey Jones’ Locker.
“Yar!” shouted Smitty.
“Yar!” shouted Pegleg.
“Yar!” shouted Captain Blood.
No crew was deadlier with a score of cannon than they.
“Yar!” shouted Smitty.
“Yar!” shouted Pegleg.
“Yar!” shouted Captain Blood.
And they were the most fearsome scurvy dogs on Brussels Sprouts and Onions Night.
“Light a match!” shouted Smitty.
“Open a porthole!” shouted Pegleg.
“No wonder why they call it a poopdeck!” shouted Captain Blood.



First, they wanted me to work a double shift. Lots of drivers are sick and it’s a busy weekend.
More got sick, so after I got back to the garage, they offered a triple. I’d even get to take out one of the new cars if I worked it.
Hush hush.
I took the keys, slid into the most comfortable car seat of my life, and fired up the engine.
I don’t think I’ve gotten so many fares in my life. And the tips have been extraordinary.
They’ll help pay for this car when they pry me out of it.

Half Of What


Master Kwan sat in front of the student, poured the pitcher into his glass, and stopped.
“Is the glass half-empty or half-full, Stinkbug?” asked the teacher.
The student scratched his recently-shaved scalp. “It is full, Master,” he said.
“With what?” asked the teacher.
“It is half-full with water,” said the student. “And half full of air. Half plus half is whole.”
“Drink,” commanded the teacher. “Fill the glass with air.”
The student drank. “Delicious,” he said, smiling.
“It is not water, Stinkbug,” said the teacher. “It is poison.”
“Then it is a delicious poison,” said the student, and he died.

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 00


You may have heard somewhere that Abe was born in a log cabin
A competing theory says that Abe was born on a distant planet and was shot here in a rocketship by his loving parents, wishing he’d escape the cataclysm that faced their homeworld.
Our yellow sun’s rays made him powerful, invulnerable, and even gave him the ability to fly.
So, how did John Wilkes Booth shoot Lincoln then?
Why, a Kryptonite bullet, silly.
Of course, rival theories such as these are utterly and totally full of crap, but I like telling the “sewn-together corpses” one to my kids.

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 41


War-weary Abraham Lincoln may have proclaimed the last Thursday as Thanksgiving, but he also dictated the special meal to be served to those observing it…
“Tree bark, sour grass, and whatever bugs you can catch!” yelled Abe. “All washed down with muddy, algae-encrusted water!”
Eventually, Abe came to grips with his modest log-cabin upbringing and settled on turkey with all the trimmings.
“But don’t forget the vomit buckets!” screamed Abe. “They’re the second-most essential part, right next to dressing a common streetwalker like an Indian and beating her to death with a fireiron!”
Once again, another regrettable Lincoln childhood memory.