Category: My stories

The Last Drop

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When Charlie retired from the waterworks, they gave him a gold-plated watch and a cardboard box to put his stuff in.
He took everything home but a large half-empty bottle of poison, which he left in the middle of his desk.
Charlie had started every day with a fresh cup of coffee, walking to the Filtration Pump Room, and putting a drop of poison in the city’s water supply.
He figured it would toughen people up a bit in these difficult times.
Charlie also dumped his coffee into the city’s water supply, but that’s because the coffee was so bad.

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 76

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General Grant handed Abraham Lincoln a telescope. “Watch our victory unfold before your eye,” he said.
Abe looked through the telescope and watched the battle rage.
“My brilliant strategy is paying off,” said Grant.
“The issues of our struggle depended on the Divine interposition and favor,” muttered Abe. “It’s all up to God now.”
God looked down at the blood-splattered battlefield and winced.
Jesus handed Him a quarter, and God flipped it. “Call it.”
“Heads,” said Jesus.
God caught the quarter mid-air and covered it.
He opened his hands, and a dove flew out.
“Damn,” said God. “Happens every time.”

Goliath’s Fall

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It was the final battle.
For all the shekels.
Goliath never knew what hit him, that dumb son of a bitch.
One moment, he was waving his war club around and rallying the troops.
All of the sudden, a rock hits him in the skull.
The giant didn’t even say “OUCH!”
His eyes took on that thousand-cubit stare and he toppled like a broken column.
A minute later, his lieutenant arrived, breathlessly apologizing to his commander for his tardiness.
“You really should keep your pack mule better organized,” he muttered. “It took me forever to find your helmet.”
“Sir? Sir?”

The Final Hours Of A Professional Slut

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Anne Nicole sat in her hotel suite and wept.
From the other room, her lawyer’s bastard baby shrieked.
The porn star wept harder.
She always got this way when she read the letters from her dead billionaire husband.
One after the other, his words tore at her heart and she yearned for him to be here with her again.
When she was finished with the last letter, the tears turned to rage.
“You found time to write this shit, but you couldn’t write a goddamned will?”
She poured out the pill bottle into her hand, swallowing them one by one.

Choose Your Death

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The catalog makes it very simple.
Every page has a different kind of death on it, a full-color photograph in all its grisly wonder.
I looked cold and hard at the page featuring the carbomb, but it was just a little too messy for my taste.
Plus, I kinda liked Steve’s car. Was hoping to buy it after… he bought it.
Then I saw the death I wanted: electrocution.
Their number was busy, so I went to the website… entered the data… and…
Transaction completed.
Wait… hold on…
Did I get the billing and shipping addresses mixed up?
Uh oh.

Those Lousy Bums

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These days, the Doomsayers write their Armageddon spells on pieces of cardboard and wave them around in crowds, foaming at the mouth.
Back in the day, they’d glue their signs to wooden sticks or make up one of those… what were they?
Sandwich boards! That’s it!
The end of the world is coming, and these crazy bastards know it.
After all, it’s their job to cause it.
They gather at night, light their campfires, and chant in unison in praise of The Great Destroyer.
When I find them, I roust them out.
I have yet to miss a gathering.
Yet.

Zombie Garden

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You think of this place as a cemetery, but I think of it as a zombie garden.
See this bottle?
Let’s just say that this potion is the zombie equivalent of Miracle Gro.
I just pour it over the grave, wave my hand around, chant for a few seconds, and I’ve got a brand new zombie.
Well, not exactly brand new. Depending how old the corpse is, there’s the problem of rot and decay.
There’s another problem with this garden. The fruits of my labor don’t grow out of the ground by themselves.
Speaking of which, pass me the shovel.

The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln 75

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A barrel-chested metallic man marched around the White House lawn, occasionally belching steam and smoke.
“What is this that thing?” asked Mary Todd.
“It’s a steam-powered mechanical man,” said Abraham Lincoln. “I built it to garrison forts, positions, stations, and other places.”
“So it can do everything a human soldier can do?” asked Mary Todd.
“Well, there are some limits to its abilities,” said Abe. “It certainly won’t replace those men you sleep with when I’m busy.”
Weeks later, Mary Todd walked into the White House, covered in oil and grease.
And smiling.
“I stand corrected,” said Abe. “You whore.”

Kotel

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When I told the congregation I was going to Jerusalem, they warned me about the Kotel.
“Try not to be shocked,” they said.
After weeks of travel, I was finally in the presence of the Holiest of Holies.
The only thing between me and it was an Arab market. Camels and horses, tied down to fixtures embedded the wall.
A merchant spits on the wall, walks back to his tent.
Elohim
My children will reclaim your Temple
Theodor
I slip it in a crack and pray.
Then I get out my briefcase and I begin to buy up the deeds.

A Swinging Bad Time

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You’ll have to forgive me for not replying to your email.
You see, I’ve got one of those laptops with a fingerprint reader.
The problem is, I cut my finger in the kitchen while chopping up lettuce for salad.
Now the laptop doesn’t know who I am.
There’s an option to use the password, but it’s been so long since I’ve used a password for my laptop, I can’t remember my password.
So I went to a hypnotist, and he swung a watch in front of my eyes for an hour.
But all I could recall was “A swinging watch.”