Category: My stories

Happy Coup Year

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I gotta tell you, it’s good to be king.
Man, what a party last night. Whole country was out saying goodbye to the old year and ringing in the new year.
Of course, those party-pooper rebels had to shoot up the decorations and my security guards.
Why do people insist on firing guns on New Years? Don’t they know that people get hurt that way?
It didn’t last long. My troops overwhelmed the guerrillas and they’re now in jail.
All I need to do is…
Ha ha ha… caught myself dating a death warrant with 2006.
Happy New Year, everyone.

The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln 68

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The war had not gone well, and Lincoln was glad to see 1861 come to a close.
“I do not feel like celebrating, but we might as well ring in the new year,” he said.
“Drunks!” growled Mary Todd. “Nothing but drunks out there!”
“If we take habitual drunkards as a class,” said Lincoln, “their heads and their hearts will bear an advantageous comparison with those of any other class.”
A drunk stumbled up the steps of the White House, groaned a “Happy New Year” and promptly keeled over, dead.
“Their horribly abused livers are another matter entirely,” said Lincoln.

Airport 2006

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We’re still not sure why, but the investigation concluded that the airport manager secretly replaced the supply of de-icing agent at Jefferson County Airport with Folger’s Crystals.
It didn’t take long to find out what would happen. Two executive jets froze up and crashed, and a third barely managed to get back on the ground.
The airport manager stuck a microphone in the pilot’s face. “Did you know that I substituted your de-icing agent with Folger’s Instant Crystals? Could you tell the difference?”
He’s in an insane asylum now, receiving plenty of medication.
And no instant coffee whatsoever, thank goodness.

Profit And Prophet

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Jerry Bruckheimer finished his pitch.
Sumner Redstone raised an eyebrow and imagined the protests and burning.
“No,” he said “Hell no.”
“But he helps the police solve crimes no one else can,” said Bruckheimer. “And he’s a prophet.”
“We are not doing CSI: Mecca,” said Sumner. “Not after all that cartoon crap in Denmark.”
“Not the same,” said Bruckheimer. “We won’t film his face. We’ll film over his shoulder, or just his shadow over the desk and casefiles.”
“No,” said Sumner.
“And we’ve got Tony Shalhoub signed up for it,” said Bruckheimer.
Sumner leaned forward and smiled. “Tell me more…”

Refrigerator magnets

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Lois looked at all of the refrigerators and compared their features, but she couldn’t make up her mind which one of them to buy.
The salesclerk said, “I think I can help you.” He led her to a circular room with refrigerators of every brand and model along the perimeter.
Then, he handed her a refrigerator magnet.
“Close your eyes and spin!” he commanded.
She did so.
“Now… throw!” he shouted.
She threw the magnet.
“Stop and open your eyes,” he said.
She’d thrown the magnet at the door they came in through.
“Just buy the damn Whirlpool,” he sighed.

Christmas Trolls

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The day after Christmas, Santa’s elves partied and celebrated another year’s work finished.
On the other side of the North Pole, Santa’s trolls were dealing with returns, damaged toys, injury claims, technical support, and instruction booklets in the wrong language.
“Fucking elves!” growled the Head Troll. “Those twerps get the credit for shipping crap, but we’re the ones having to clean up after them.”
“Let’s strike,” said a few of the trolls, and they grumbled agreement.
At first sign of revolt, Santa stomped into the Troll Barn with a bullwhip and a bullhorn.
“Back to work, you sonsabitches!” he shouted.

Virgin Mary

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The Three Wise Men took Joseph aside.
“This was a virgin birth?” asked Caspar.
“It sure as hell is,” said Joseph. “That freaky bitch took it up the ass and in the mouth, but never where it counted.”
Balthasar winced. “I’m not sure she’s technically a virgin after that,” he said.
“No, it’s a virgin birth,” said Melchior. “But she’s a dirty slut.”
All three agreed.
They were also tired of screwing their camels, so they asked Joseph if they could gangbang Mary.
“Frankincense? Myrrh? I don’t need that stuff,” he said. “But throw in the Gold, and she’s yours.”

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 67

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It was the night before Christmas, and Lincoln’s Cabinet was heading off to their various churches for services.
Lincoln sat alone, making paper dolls with scissors and war dispatches.
“Aren’t you going to church?” asked Salmon Chase.
“No,” said Lincoln. “I am not a member of any Christian Church.”
“Which church are you a member of then?” asked Chase.
Lincoln took a long needle from his stovepipe hat, licked it, and stabbed it through a paper doll.
Chase fell to the floor in agony.
“Any more stupid questions?” asked Lincoln.
Chase groaned “Merry Christmas” and crawled out of the room.

Fabio Sucks

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I’m just as stunned as you are. Fabio was a great spokesman for “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.”
I guess his vampiric transformation was just too gruesome.
Such a waste.
And that’s what fooled us all – the hair, the muscles. Who knew he was so brilliant with chemistry?
It didn’t take him long to get labspace at Unilever to develop a cruetly-free food source for himself.
Not only will “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Blood!” eliminate any fear of transfusion-related ailments like AIDS and Hep-C, but it’s damn tasty, too.
Still, every now and then I miss draining someone.

Toadboy

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My mother did a lot of drugs in her wilder days.
She claimed she took a break for the seven months I was inside her, but I know she’s lying.
My genes are full of errors, minuscule errors in the spirals of DNA in my billions of cells.
Doctors say I should be dead by now. But I’m still kicking, and the nurses keep checking on me around-the-clock.
Every now and then, one sneaks a lick of my skin.
Their eyes roll back, and they shudder with pleasure.
That’s nice, but I wish they’d remember to switch the goddamned bedpan.