Tag: book

The Kid Talked

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I couldn’t believe my ears! The kid talked! The kid opened his mouth, and instead of sucking on something or barfing, he talked!
The baby is only three or four months old, and he’s reciting Shakespeare.
No, really. Shakespeare. William Shakespeare.
Can’t use the toilet. Can’t walk. Can’t even crawl.
And sure enough, he’s into the third act of Julius Caesar.
I hate Julius Caesar. Give me a copy of As You Like It or a Midsummer’s Night Dream with a nice bottle of red wine to make the evening.
Oh well. We can always try for having another kid.

Wishfish

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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.

Web Of Lies

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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.

Let my people go

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Moses felt his heart lurch as he watched Pharaoh carry his lifeless son to Anubis’ statue.
“Will you let my people go now?” asked Moses.
“No,” said Pharaoh.
“No?” asked Moses. “But…your son…”
“He was my eldest, sure,” said Pharaoh. “But I have dozens more, just as ready to take my throne. Insurance against assassination, or enemy gods.”
Moses’ heart sank, and he returned to his people.
“Did it work?” asked Herschel.
“No,” said Moses.
The community agreed. “We need more plagues,” said Herschel.
It took sixteen more to convince Pharaoh.
They edited those out of The Bible, of course.

Stupid Girl

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The sky turned black and roared.
“Everyone! Cellar!” shouted Henry to his wife and niece.
They ran to the storm shelter, but their niece was gone.
“Where is that stupid girl?” growled Henry.
Emily spotted her running in the yard. “She’s chasing that damned dog,” she said.
Henry yelled, but the winds drowned him out.
“I’m going back,” he said.
“No, you’re not!” yelled Emily, slamming the shelter door.
The winds roared louder, then a crash.
Finally, silence.
Henry slowly opened the door.
“See her?” asked Emily.
“Yup,” said Henry. “Tornado tossed her through a tree.”
“Stupid girl,” muttered Emily.

The Adventures of Mustard Man – Chapter 18

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Why did I follow that star to Bethlehem?
I packed a sampler of the finest the Mustard Man Company has to offer, and the next thing I know I’m watching Jesus’ birth.
You say there’s only three Wise Men? Well, let’s see…
Gaspar brought gold. Not a bad present at all.
Bartholomew brought myrrh. Not sure why. That stuff stinks.
What’s-his-name brought frankincense. It stinks worse than the myrrh.
And then there’s me. I brought mustard.
I never did find the star back. So I crawled in a cave and slept 2,000 years.
What? I’m not in the book?
Crap.

Accidents will happen

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The Wonkavator didn’t work as expected. Instead of flying around the city, amazing the occupants as it danced around the sky, the carriage was smashed to bits against the top of the elevator shaft.
You see, the blueprints called for a sturdy bullet-resistant glass with a steel skeleton on the carriage and an ultrathin shatterglass cap on top of the elevator shaft.
Someone got them reversed, and that got Wonka, Grampa Joe, and Charlie shredded into a bloody pulp.
Strange, orange-faced midgets gathered up the bloody bits, put them in canvas bags, and alerted the factory’s lawyers of the accident.

No room at the inn

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As Joseph and Mary made their way back home, Joseph seethed at the memory of all those innkeepers turning them away.
He had begged and pleaded, but none raised a finger to help in their time of need.
“I will have my revenge,” growled Joseph.
In modern days, hotels and inns have sprinkler systems and smoke detectors, but two thousand years ago? Not a chance.
Just as the Star of Bethlehem led the wise men to the manger, the trail of mysterious inn fires led back to Joseph’s pasture.
Years later, Jesus forgave him for it.
Such a good boy.

It’s a cookbook!

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Alice sat with her sister on the riverbank, bored out of her mind. She didn’t feel like braiding flowers again, and she wasn’t terribly interested in the book her sister was reading, either.
That’s when the White Rabbit muttered something about being late, looked at his pocketwatch, and hopped towards a hole in the riverbank.
Alice waited for the snap of the rabbit-trap.
It came, and the rabbit screamed in agony.
“Have you found a recipe for rabbit yet?” asked Alice.
“I think so,” said her sister, shutting the cookbook. “You club it, I’ll skin it.”
Alice kept the pocketwatch.

Holy Question Marks, Questionman!

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Daventry had a problem: crime.
Gotham had Batman.
Metropolis had Superman.
Daventry had nobody… until The Question arrived.
Dressed in question marks, The Question of Daventry roamed the streets at night, fighting crime.
Criminals changed their schedules to the daytime. Then they agreed on a rotating-shift plan to cover all hours of the day to keep The Question constantly exhausted.
Eventually, the criminals got word to The Riddler, and The Question of Daventry was sued over the costume. Then lawyers arrived from Hub City about the name.
I think that explains the guy in the chicken suit with the flyswatter.