Category: My stories

The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln 51

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You know, back in Abraham Lincoln’s day, Vice Presidents went out hunting, too.
Hannibal Hamlin was well-known for going back to his home state of Maine to hunt wild bear. Or he’d hunt wild eagle. However, every now and then he’d blast a lawyer or two to Kingdom Come.
Back then, vice presidents could easy cover up such hunting accidents. It wasn’t like there were all that many reporters following them around, clacking away at telegraph actuators with really long wires on them.
And, failing full secrecy, one could easily just blow away the reporters.
Tempting, even to this day.

Orbital

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The problem with self-navigating colonies is they’ll burn through their thruster fuel for a better view, greater solar panel efficiency, or just out of sheer spite towards whomever they put in their shadow.
Orbital Control does its best to prevent collisions between rivals, but every now and then you hear of an atmospheric breach or hull scorching due to this ruthless game.
The worst incident was when Glass Palace Five got sideswiped by Harmony Farms three years ago. Both atmospheres failed, nobody survived.
So, what was that about leaving your helmet and tank at home, soldier?
Go get it, stupid.

Hot Chocolate

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The thermometer is barely showing any red. All the doors and windows are sealed tight, and there’s a roaring fire.
It’s the perfect evening for hot chocolate.
The problem is, we don’t have any. Well, we’ve got chocolate flakes, but not enough milk to boil for the foamy kind.
We draw straws.
Short… short… short…
Long. Yeah, I drew the long straw, so I get to go out for the milk.
I bundle up with everything I’ve got, and I run out the door.
It’s only five minutes to the store and back.
Ten, if you forget your goddamned wallet.

Hot (as hell) dogs

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If we thank God for Friday, then should we curse Satan for Monday?
I asked Satan about it the other day when I saw him.
“Should I curse you for Monday?” I asked Satan.
“Sure,” said Satan. “I’m also responsible for hot dogs coming in packages of ten and hot dog buns coming in packages of eight.”
“Damn you, Satan!” I shouted.
“I’m already damned,” said Satan. “Care for a hot dog?”
Did you know that Satan likes his hot dogs Chicago style with mustard, relish, sweet peppers, pickles, and celery salt?
He’s not such a bad guy after all.

Thirtysomething

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I remember turning thirty. It was a special time.
When people asked me how old I was, I said “Thirtysomething.”
People asked me what something meant. I’d reply “zero.”
Then I’d be asked “Shouldn’t you say ‘Thirtynothing’ instead of ‘Thirtysomething’ ?”
And I’d say “If silence can speak louder than words, nothing can be something.”
If I played tennis, I’d probably have said “Thirty – love.”
But I don’t. So I didn’t say it.
Now that I think of it, I never did watch that “Thirtysomething” show.
When I turn forty, I’ll also be thirtysomething. Something being ten, of course.

Olympics

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Halfway across the world, athletes in skin-tight polymer suits raced down snowy slopes and gracefully whooshed around flagpoles.
“Why are there no Spring and Autumn Olympics?” asked Mary, turning off the television.
Roger scratched his head. “I’m not sure,” he said. “Maybe there aren’t any Spring or Autumn sports.”
“I play horseshoes in the fall,” said Mary. “And we always play croquet in the spring.”
“I don’t think anyone would watch that,” said Roger.
“Do people really need to watch?” asked Mary.
“Good question,” said Roger.
Mary turned the television back on, but the network was now in a commercial.

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 50

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It was Abraham Lincoln’s passion for mountain climbing that got him halfway up the peak’s face. His long limbs helped him scramble up the rock like a spider up a wall.
Usually, he’d get to the top and bellow gorilla-style, but this time he bored of the endeavor midway. His Passion fled.
“Passion has helped us,” mumbled Abe. “but can do so no more. It will in future be our enemy.”
Clinging for dear life, he looked down at the ground.
Far below.
Too far below.
Abe quickly developed a passion for not falling, and he climbed to the top.

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 49

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Little Abe dangled his legs over the pier and cast the hook into the water.
“What are you fishing for today, Abe?” said his father.
“Whales,” said Abe.
“What kind of bait are you using?” asked his father.
“I’m using a toe,” said Abe.
“Where did you get that toe?” asked his father.
“I dug it up from the cemetery,” said Abe. “I was digging for worms, and I ended up with this toe.”
Abe’s father frowned. “Do you really want to eat a fish that you’ve caught with a corpse?”
“Whales aren’t fish,” said Abe.
“True,” said Abe’s father.

Loyalty

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When Oscar needed to travel, he stuffed himself into a crate and had himself shipped.
He didn’t mind the cramped quarters. He was a master of Yoga and liked the challenge.
His secretary pled for him to travel business class, but he insisted on the crate.
One day, the crate vanished. The cargo company said it was lost. The databases drew a total blank.
Despite top-down searches of every warehouse, Oscar never reappeared.
His secretary refused to give up, searching for years.
She stuffed herself into a crate, shipped herself, and vanished, too.
Maybe they’re together somewhere?
I hope so.

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 48

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God looked at his To Do list and scratched his head.
“Who’s Lydia Bixby?” he asked his secretary-angel.
“She’s the woman who lost all of her sons in the war in America,” said the secretary-angel.
“Well, that sucks,” said God. “Any particular reason why she’s on my To Do list?”
“Abe prayed up a request,” said the secretary-angel. “Something about assuage anguish of bereavement somethingorother.”
“Can’t the man just send flowers like everyone else?” said God. “I’m a busy guy. I don’t have time for this.”
“Fruit basket?” asked the secretary-angel.
“Sure,” said God. “And send a puppy dog, too.”