Category: My stories

Stairway To Heaven

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Lisa walked up the staircase for weeks until she reached Heaven.
She knocked twice on the door, waited for a moment, and then knocked three more times.
The door creaked open and a bearded man poked his head out.
“What is it?” asked the old man.
“Why?” asked Lisa.
The old man scratched his beard and thought for a moment.
“There was a lot left over from my first project, so I decided to build something with the scraps,” he said, and then he leaned back and closed the door.
Lisa sat on the staircase for a while and pondered.

Cruel and Unusual

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“Anything you want for a last meal, Rufus?” asked the warden.
Rufus thought. “I’d like peanuts,” he said.
“Your lawyers say they’ll get another stay,” said the warden. “That makes eleven. A new record.”
“I wish they wouldn’t” said Rufus. “I’m tired. I wish this was done.”
Rufus didn’t get his wishes.
“Making you wait for these would be cruel and unusual,” said the warden, sliding a bag of peanuts through the bars.
Rufus waited until the warden left before mashing them up, rubbing them on his skin, and swallowing the rest.
His allergies worked fast. Gone in an hour.

The Infrared Baron

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“Can we improve upon the glorious The Red Baron?” growled Hitler to Göring,
Two weeks later, Göring’s scientists invented infra-red paint. Planes painted with it were totally invisible.
The next day, Hitler wanted a demonstration.
“A glorious day for the Reich,” he said. “I wish to see this invisible plane.”
A scientist whispered in Göring’s ear.
“What do you mean you can’t find it?” Göring hissed.
“Problem?” asked Hitler.
“The plane… just took off, fuhrer!” exclaimed Göring.
“Took off?” asked Hitler. “But I heard nothing.”
“Well…”
“Invisible and silent?” said Hitler. “Brilliant! The English will never know what hit them!”

Half Twist

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The commander wanted to give the enemy a chance to surrender before the bombing raid.
“We’re good people,” he said. “Can’t just kill them all.”
PsyOps argued over what the message should be.
The age-old “Surrender Now!” didn’t quite work with this kind of enemy.
The mathematics geek suggested putting an adhesive at one end and then giving instructions to half-twist the paper, then stick the ends together.
“It’s a Moebius Loop,” said the mathematician. “It only has one side.”
The commander pondered all of the options.
“Forget the warnings,” said the commander. “Just bomb the crap out of them.”

Sad Sack of a Sacker

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Ronnie held the dented can in his hand. Just a few seconds earlier, it had rolled out of its sack, fell through a hole in his cart, and rolled under his foot.
Ronnie counted to ten and took a deep breath.
“Excuse me,” he said to the sacker. “This fell out.”
“So?” said the sacker.
“Can you get me another one?” asked Ronnie.
The sacker sighed deeply, turned around, and shuffled off to the Canned Vegetables aisle.
Three minutes later, he returned with a fresh can.
“Now shove it up your ass,” said Ronnie, pushing the cart out the door.

Screwball

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Ned held the ice pack to his head and realized that he’d been hit in the head with a foul ball every game he went to.
He pointed this out to the stadium’s medic.
“Interesting,” he said.
The next day, free season tickets arrived. Courtesy of the team.
Outfield boxes. Home run territory.
So, for the next home game, Ned sat in the stands and waited for a ball to hit him in the head for a home run.
In the fifth inning, a bat slipped out of a batter’s hands, flew 300 feet, and clocked Ned in the face.

The Odd Daughter

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Doctor Odd looked at the destruction in the yard, sighed, and kneeled down to talk to his daughter.
“Pumpkin,” he said. “Remember when Daddy taught you about grafting?”
Pumpkin nodded her head.
“Well, there’s a good kind of grafting and a bad kind. Good grafting is when you combine plant varieties to make bug-resistant species or crops that survive droughts.”
Pumpkin smiled.
“Bad grafting is what you did with your friend Bobby, the lawnmower, and your dog.”
Pumpkin frowned.
“Daddy will clean up this mess. Now go wash up for dinner.”
Pumpkin ran inside and squealed happily for tater tots.

The Wacky Adventures Of Abraham Lincoln 58

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After much shouting, Abraham Lincoln could take no more.
He stood face-to-face with General Grant.
Well, as close to face-to-face with General Grant as one could manage. Grant’s beard presented a formidable barrier, his whiskey breath even more so.
Not wanting to waste more time arguing, Abe put his hand on his heart and said, “I now wish to make the personal acknowledgment that you were right, and I was wrong.”
Grant grunted, holstered his guns, and leaned over a railing to throw up.
Abe would wait until Grant passed out before doing what he was going to do anyway.

Oliver’s Obsession

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As soon as Oliver noticed the burnt-out bulb in the vanity mirror, he ran for the utility closet.
It was full of light bulbs. The obsessed Oliver hated burnt-out bulbs.
Just as he pulled out a replacement, the power went out.
That wouldn’t stop Oliver, however.
Feeling each bulb, he tried to tell which was burnt-out. But none felt warm.
He unscrewed each one, shaking it hard… no telltale jingle, either.
So Oliver sat on his bathroom countertop for three hours until the lights came back on.
They did. All of them. No burnt-out bulb.
He replaced them all, anyway.

The Monkeys

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Bill bred the monkeys specifically for manual dexterity and docile temperament.
The typewriters, hauled out of some warehouse, just needed dusting and fresh ribbons.
Writers Guild representatives caught wind of Bill’s plan and used everything short of poisoning the banana supply to stop him.
Despite these evil schemes, Bill persevered, and his simian legions grew.
And produced.
At first, random garbage was the result. Lots of stained, crumbled sheets of typing paper covered with garble.
Then, smashed typewriters and the occasional dead monkey.
They never did manage to produce Shakespeare, but made a fine line in Bill’s obituary years later.