Category: My stories

The Passion of the Bullfrog

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In church, Arthur tries to behave.
It’s not easy, though.
He watches a woman in the next pew. She is holding a box, and sweating bullets. A green, webbed foot pokes out of the box, and the woman quickly snaps the lid back down.
“Ribbit,” says the box. “Ribbit ribbit.”
No time to lose!
“Bullfrog!” he shouts, and he grabs for the box. The entire congregation heads for the exits, and the priest ducks behind the pulpit.
For the next five minutes, he stomps the box flat.
When the police finally arrive, he tips his hat and walks out proudly.

Keepaway

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Arthur is home.
His two kids, Jenny and Jack, play Keep Away with the dog. The dog runs back and forth between them, panting heavily. Eventually, the dog clutches his furry little chest and drops dead from a heart attack.
The kids keep playing Keep Away, because they so rarely get to do it with a severed human head.
Arthur watches them through his front window. He takes it with him everywhere, just for these moments.
He wishes their mother could be here, but then, in a way, she is.
He wonders where the rest of her body is stashed.

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 69

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Disturbed by mounting casualty figures, Abraham Lincoln asked for a census count.
When he had the numbers, he was in for a surprise.
“We have more men now that we had when the war began,” said Abe.
“Yes,” said the statistician. “But gender distribution’s gotten unbalanced.”
Abe noticed that there were many more women than men in public these days.
“It’s the same for the South, too?” asked Lincoln.
“I believe so,” said the statistician.
Lincoln chuckled and rubbed his hands together.
“I don’t think Mary Todd will be having any more headaches if she knows what’s good for her.”

The Heeling Power Of Prayer

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A few months ago, Wally lost his arm in a car crash.
The doctors tried to sew it back on, but it turned gangrenous and they had to cut it off again.
Since medicine wouldn’t give him his arm back, he turned to religion.
So Wally prayed for a miracle, but his arm never grew back.
Frustrated, he went to his church and asked his priest.
“Why won’t my arm grow back?” yelled Wally. “I keep praying, but God doesn’t answer.”
“God can’t hear you because you’re doing it wrong,” said the priest. “It takes two hands to pray, stupid.”

The Scurvy Dog

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“Stowaway! Stowaway!”
“Grab the landlubber!” shouted the Captain. “Make him walk the plank!”
The crew grabbed the man and the First Mate slid the plank out, but it fell overboard and floated away.
“Well, shiver me timbers,” said the Captain, “What will we make him walk now?”
“We could make him walk the dog,” said the First Mate.
“Yarr,” said the Captain, releasing the stowaway and handing him a plastic bag. “Be sure to pick up all the dog crap.”
“Why?” asked the stowaway.
“We don’t want this to turn into a poop deck, you see,” said the First Mate.

Party Time

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First, it was the rope. Damn thing was dry as dust and broke clean in half. We ended up using that bungee cord stuff.
Then there were the crosses. Nails kept falling out of the wood and all we had was sticks.
They wouldn’t burn, either. Wood was wet all the way through, so the kerosene wouldn’t catch.
We did manage to start a fire, though. Some kerosene got splashed Grand Kleagle’s robe at some point, and that bastard is in the burn ward now.
I gotta tell you, it was the worst goddamned lynching party I’ve ever been too.

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…”