The Council of Giants gathered at Stoneheart Castle for their monthly meeting.
The Chairman called on The Treasurer to check the cashbox.
“Seventy three gold coins,” said The Treasurer. “How much was that telescope again?”
“Eighty,” said Greybeard Boulderballs.
“Can’t we get a discount or put down a deposit?” said the Chairman. “We’re the Council of Giants, for Thor’s sake.”
“I asked,” said Greybeard. “Eighty’s already dealer’s price.”
“Maybe if we bought this Isaac Newton fellow softer-soled shoes?” offered Oakshield Mightyfists. “You know, for when he stands on our shoulders?”
Greybeard promised to check on pricing, and The Council adjourned.
Category: My stories
Missing
The disappearance of Mindy Murphy took the town by surprise, shocking everyone how such a horrible thing could happen there.
However, when Mr. Murphy started putting posters up all over town with HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL? and her picture on them, there were voices of protest.
“We know you’re worried about your girl and such,” said the mayor. “But let’s face it: she wasn’t the prettiest girl around. And that’s not one of her better pictures.”
The town was relieved when another, better-looking kid got kidnapped. Milk sales returned to normal. Heck, the kid was so good-looking, they doubled.
Magi
Doctor Odd put down “Gift Of The Magi” and smiled.
O Henry’s tale reminded him of when he sold his invincible army of robots to buy his true love a crown of diamonds, while his true love gave him an Orvis gift certificate.
Orvis?
What the hell?
He didn’t own anything from there.
They fought and broke up.
She kept the crown, and it really pissed him off.
So, he activated the homing beacon, recalled his robots from the pawn shop, and conquered earth.
He put the crown in his trophy case, mounted on his former true love’s severed head.
Cyber Monday
It’s Cyber Monday, and here at the server farm, we like to turn the lights off and watch the twinkling network switches flowing commerce through the datacenter.
It’s a beautiful thing when an online store gets their servers, databases, and load-balancers and firewalls tested and ready in time for the shopping rush.
And then there’s the others… the ones we told last year that they needed more memory or more processor power or a load-balancer.
Instead, they ignored our advice, and opted to go for more bitching instead.
Help! They’re losing business!
Good. Fuck the sonsabitches.
Penny unwise, thousands foolish.
Yard Sale
I bought a ghost.
At a yard sale.
Although, it was technically an estate sale, considering it was all the ghost’s stuff being sold off.
And I didn’t mean to buy the ghost. I wanted to buy a sweater, some coffee mugs, and a really slick blender.
The ghost apparently came with all that stuff.
I asked for my money back, but they had a big NO REFUNDS sign.
And ALL SALES FINAL, so I couldn’t just give the stuff back.
It’s a nice sweater. And the blender’s nice and loud. Covers the ghost’s moaning and rattling chains.
More coffee?
Good as Gold
Why does Gold cost so much?
Because we want it to, say the economists.
But I know they’re wrong.
Gold’s important for magic. Especially longevity spells.
Has to do with gold’s nonreactiveness and free radicals in the body.
Proximity is the trick. Be near the gold.
If you have enough gold available, you could probably live forever.
However, it’s hard getting a hold of that much.
And the market can turn on you quick.
Me, I went into the soldiering business. Charmed my way into guard duty at Fort Knox, then the Federal Reserve.
I figure I’m set for life.
So Many Candles
On every girl’s birthday, they name each of the candles on their cake after a boy, and if only one is left burning when they make their wish and blow them out, then that’s the boy they’ll marry.
The more candles, the harder it is to blow them all out, but Mary did, no matter how big Mother baked the cake and how wide she set the candles apart.
Then, one year, surrounded by her college friends, she blew out the candles, and one remained flickering.
“Sam,” Mary said.
Next to her, Mary’s girlfriend grinned. “You know I prefer Samantha.”
The Law Of Sangreal Conservation
It’s every orphan’s dream to be told that they’re really a princess to be whisked away to the family’s castle in a horse-drawn carriage.
Leslie’s heart was pounding as they made their way along the forest road.
Then, they pulled to the side of the road and stopped.
At first, she was worried that she was going to be told it was all a big mistake, but a rattletrap carriage was coming the other way.
A girl’s voice within, screaming threats and obscenities.
Then, she realized, it’s also every princess’ nightmare to be told they’re an impostor, and sent away.
Grandmother Island
We did our best to shelter Timmy from learning about death, so when my mother died, we told him that she was on a long trip to Grandma Island.
He wanted to go with her, like when we’d all gone to Disneyland.
“No,” I said. “Only Grandma can go to Grandma Island. It’s like Muslims and Mecca. They arrest and kill anyone who isn’t a Grandma on Grandma Island.”
At first, Timmy was sad that he’d never see his grandmother again.
Then, he wrote letters to her, and mailed them.
Sometimes, I wish she’d respond.
I miss you too, Mom.
War Torn
Abraham Lincoln told his family of a strange nightmare, waking up and hearing sobbing from invisible mourners, seeing a raised platform with a shrouded corpse on it.
“Who is dead in the White House?” he asked.
“The President,” said a guard. “He was killed by an assassin.”
Abe said there was a loud burst of grief that woke him up, but the truth was, he climbed into the coffin with his own corpse and had mad passionate sex with it.
Abe never got the chance to explore his latent homosexual necrophiliac tendencies.
Well, that, and restore the war-torn nation, either.