The King Of The Beach lives in a massive sandcastle.
He stands on the parapet, looking out over his beach.
When he spots a child making a sandcastle, he orders his men to invade the usurper’s territory and smite their castle.
Sometimes, a child tries to put up a fight, so The King lays siege to their castle
“Mom, can you get me an ice cream?” shouts the child.
Their mother looks at the King’s men, and she urges the kid to surrender. “We’ll go to Disneyland next month, okay?”
The victorious King laughs, and returns to his parapet, watching.
Category: My stories
Anniversary
It’s our anniversary. Can’t think of any personal gifts to get.
So, we bought ourselves a huge Smart TV. And we replaced our old Blue Ray player with a Smart Player.
I can control them with my smartphone.
We will probably get a smart sound bar to give us surround sound for the baseball games and movies we watch.
I’m not sure what more we can add to this system, but with all the apps and features running on these devices, they suck down more electricity than a Vegas casino.
Our electric bills bankrupted us.
Not very smart, I guess.
The Counselors
After the bomb went off, they rescued as many as they could from the rubble.
The doctors and surgeons did the best they could. But it wasn’t enough.
That’s when the counselors took over.
Repeat after me:
I am not a victim.
I am not a casualty.
I am not a statistic.
I will live on.
Remember these sixteen words.
And only these words.
They will get you through this.
And then the counselors went through the survivors.
The next day, they’d picked out the ones who were fading, and they harvested their organs.
You will live on.
In them.
Baby
My friend just had a baby.
Another friend had one recently.
Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like, to be a father.
Then, I look at my father… well, think of my father, because I haven’t actually seen him in two years, and I don’t call my parents much.
I’m not even sure what he looks like now. In fact, he could be standing right here next to me, holding out his hand and expecting a tip for hauling my luggage to my hotel suite while I tap out this story.
If so, I don’t tip. Even you, Dad.
Salt
My family makes the best pretzels in the world.
The secret is in how to add the salt. We have a patent on it.
However, a famous patent troll threatened to sue us because he had a general patent on how to salt pretzels.
“I have to preserve my rights,” he claimed. And he offered to license his patent to us.
So, we offered him a tour of our facility.
Five hours later, he was stuffed into a wooden barrel full of shit.
“That’ll preserve you well enough,” I told the barrel.
And we lost it deep in the warehouse.
Pitbulls
My coworker owns Pitbulls, and he’s always saying how the media gets them wrong.
“They’re wonderful dogs,” he says. “People just raise them to do horrible things.”
Well, he says that when he’s not telling me about the latest thing they’ve destroyed, like a door frame or feature pillows.
“But I’ve signed them up for a 6 week obedience course.”
Sure enough, six weeks later, he’s proud of his dogs.
“I’d show you the certificates, but I left them on the countertop and they chewed them to bits.”
Maybe the trainer was too scared of them to hand out Fs?
Clone Crime
The problem with a clone of a person murdering the original is that you’ll find only one set of fingerprints and one set of DNA markers.
So, a murder will get flagged a suicide by the automatic systems, or it will get placed in the hard cases queue.
The investigators in that queue are really good at their jobs. As if they were born to do the job.
But they weren’t born to do it.
They were grown. In tanks.
And every so often, one goes astray, and kills another.
The rest circle the wagons quickly.
Call it a suicide.
Laxatives
Using laxatives to lose weight is a bad idea.
Not only will you drain your body of essential nutrients, but you’ll damage your fragile digestive tract.
And then there’s the possibility that you’ll shit out your soul.
Most people notice when it’s slipped out. Treat it like a knocked-out tooth: keep it moist, and get to a priest. They’re in the Yellow Pages.
If you accidentally flush your soul away, that’s just too bad. Just be sure to wash your hands, and there’s plenty of jobs available to you: Wall Street banker, politician, and Department of Motor Vehicles window clerk.
Taco Juggler
Are you the man who juggles tacos?
Because, if you are, well, I am the man who juggles burritos.
However, one day I hope to have the skill to juggle tacos. Like you do.
How do you do it without spilling anything from those taco shells?
How do you do it without breaking the shells?
And most importantly: how can you stand them?
Tacos are disgusting. Dust and flies can get in there.
At least a burrito is a closed environment. A self-contained universe of food.
But the world does not want burrito jugglers. Only taco jugglers.
Teach me, master!
Cole Porter
Cole Porter suffered a horrible horse riding accident in his thirties, and the doctors recommended that his leg be amputated.
Cole refused, and he lived in agonizing pain for years, unable to match his songwriting success from before the accident.
He eventually had his leg amputated, but Cole never wrote another song again.
The amputated leg, however, was now on its own. No longer shackled to a pill-popping sex-crazed songwriter, it went on to write many amazing songs.
The problem is, nobody could read the damn sheet music, no matter how steady the leg kept the pen between its toes.