Category: My stories

Angels on the radar

250494

By adjusting the sensitivity, power, angle, and reflectivity of a weather radar, you can detect some interesting things out in the heavens.
If you’re really good, you might even find signs of heaven itself.
Now, I won’t tell you the exact settings you need, but imagine the shock when I twiddled a few dials and came up with a squadron of angels sweeping over the land.
Or maybe they were ghosts. I’m not sure. I’ve still got a lot of research to do.
What Nobel Prize category should this be under? Do you think I have a shot at winning?

Chicken

291318

Why did the chicken cross the road?
I’ve spent my life trying to find the answer. It hasn’t been easy, considering that the government won’t give me a grant to research the issue fully. However, thanks to some generous contributions from the Tyson Corporation and Bo Pilgrim, I think I have the answer once and for all.
No, it’s not just about getting to the other side. It’s more.
I need to hurry up, though. Chickens are being slaughtered across the planet because of bird flu, and there may not be any left by the time my research is complete.

The Martyrdom of Saint Timothy

569720

Everybody agreed that the pizza should have pepperoni and sausage.
Except for Timothy. He insisted on mushrooms.
“How about mushrooms on half?” he asked.
“There’s five of us,” said Joe. “You getting half your way? No way.”
“Why don’t you just get a small mushroom pizza on your own?” asked Susan.
“No,” said Timothy. “I want mushrooms on half.”
That was the last straw.
Susan and Joe pinned Timothy’s arms to the table while Irwin poured hot lead into Timothy’s mouth.
Word of Timothy’s martyrdom spread throughout campus. He eventually became the Patron Saint Of Mushrooms.
Still, what a dumbass.

Old Man Winter

491558

On the last day of Winter, Old Man Winter loads up his magical ice sled and tours his Winter Wonderland for the final time.
A team of gigantic penguins pulls the mighty icicle chariot through the sky, and Old Man Winter scowls through his frosty beard at the melting snow.
Northern zephyrs rush past his ears, roaring their last.
That’s when he hears the siren.
It’s the cops. He is pulled over. Driving the ice sled drunk again.
Old Man Winter will spend the next three seasons in jail, but he always breaks free when Autumn comes to a close.

Wishfish

392827

Once upon a time, there was a fisherman who caught a magical talking fish.
“If you let me go,” said the fish, “I will grant you three wishes.”
So the fisherman wished for a large lemon, a sharp fillet knife, and a good wine that goes with fish.
“Your wishes are… um… er… granted,” said the fish.
Then the fisherman killed and boned the fish, slicing it into thick fillets.
However, when he got home to have his wife cook the fish for him, the stove was broken.
They had a fire pit outside, though. The fish was absolutely delicious.

Ministry of Murder

374473

As man reached space, so did the ministries.
It wasn’t on any cargo manifest, but along with the food and vacuum-tents were a collection of religions in the minds of every passenger.
Once the missionaries decided that Oothoulo had souls, they felt obligated to save them. So they taught the creatures all about Jesus, miracles, The Crucifixion, and The Resurrection.
A popped squeak here, a missed burble there – and the colonists woke up to a billion crucified Oothoulo.
And, no, they didn’t come back three days later. They just smelled worse.
What a shame. I heard they tasted great.

Shamrock

372951

Just as Valentine’s Day has become one gigantic commercial for flower merchants, candy makers, and greeting card printers, I fear that St. Patrick’s Day has become nothing more than a Guinness commercial.
Whatever happened to St. Patrick’s miracle of driving all of the snakes off of the island of Ireland?
To commemorate the true miracle of St. Patrick, we’ve farm-raised several thousand snakes and we will release them in Ireland on March 16th. Then the next day, the Irish can drive these snakes out.
Maybe when we get a corporate sponsor, we can afford to stockpile a supply of antivenin.

Jury of my peers

439703

Technically, it doesn’t violate the Fifth Amendment, since it’s not really me up there on the stand. It’s only the holographic projection of a self-aware virtual copy.
It’s nothing more than a recording, the courts decided a year ago, so careless fools like me end up facing our shimmering dopplegangers when we get caught.
All I did was run a red light, and I’m getting a fine and points off my license.
The self-aware copy up there, on the other hand, gets a sentence of death.
Serves the damn traitor right for not sticking up for me… I mean himself.

They changed the stars

488309

Josie watched in horror as the stars moved around in the night sky.
They swirled and whirled around for a few seconds before spreading back out again.
Up there, for all to see, was a message:
“DEAR FRED,
YOU SUCK.
SIGNED,
MISSY.”
The stars stayed like that for a minute, then they swirled and whirled around again until they returned to their original positions in the heavens.
Josie’s phone rang. She almost missed the call.
“Did you see that?” asked Sheldon.
“Yes,” said Josie. “I wonder if Fred saw it.”
“Who’s Fred?” asked Sheldon.
“I dunno,” said Josie. “Ask Missy.”

Web Of Lies

443602

Remember Charlotte from Charlotte’s Web and how she loved that pig so much, writing things in the web to keep the farmer from killing him.
What if she hated the pig? Really hated the pig?
I think she’d have written things in her web like UGLY and STUPID and DIE DIE DIE instead of the nice things she wrote.
But then, now that I think of it, she might have also written TASTY and DELICIOUS and even a recipe for pork chops.
As I look at this spider in my hand, I stop and wonder.
And I let it go.