The old theater was in ruins.
The mayor was an architect, and he drew up plans to revive it.
His wife was good with numbers, and she applied for grants, loan guarantees and stimulus money.
Her brother was a contractor. Another brother handled materials and supplies.
Cousins got hired on to handle the labor, the electric, the pipes, and the rest of the building.
They handled the parking lot, sidewalks, landscaping, and trees, too.
The grand opening was scheduled, posters went up, and so did the theater… in flames.
The mayor’s son sold insurance, and they all vanished like smoke.
Tag: dystopia
We are not alone
Fred hated everyone and lived alone.
He shopped online and had everything delivered.
He never answered his phone, doorbell, or email.
Every so often, he’d have to go out for something, like doctor or dental checkups. He’d get in the taxi, go his appointment, and come home as quickly as possible.
He wasn’t unhappy.
He just hated people. And liked being alone.
The SETI@Home program on his laptop flashed.
It analyzed signals for extraterrestrial life, and it appeared to find something.
Fred smiled.
Not because there was life out there, but because it meant more life for him to hate.
Smith’s Crooks
The Smith Administration was the most corrupt in modern history.
Congress is still trying to sort out the books to figure out where all the money went.
The largest chunk of it wound up in the pockets of Smith’s old college friends who he’d appointed ambassadors.
Unlike the campaign contributors who received the plum assignments of France and England and Berlin, these guys were posted to Oz, Narnia, and Mordor.
That’s right. They’d picked the names out of children’s books.
Sure, these crooks should be tried, but Justice won’t get involved because we don’t have extradition treaties with those places.
Rich
Some parents tell their children about the birds and the bees, but Richie Rich was taught about the bears and bulls.
This made for a troublesome learning curve when it came to dating.
Where others were making out in malt shops, movie theaters and Lookout Point, Richie had a hard time convincing any girls to play “Red Capes And Picnic Baskets.”
Until he started paying them to do it.
I mean, come on. The kid was loaded. He could by the finest ass available.
Instead of graduating from Wharton, Richie mastered Whoredom.
Cadbury the butler saw it all.
And wept.
Mother’s Day
We watch the suntigers weave among the clouds, chasing each other.
Every so often, they fight, and a glinting tooth falls from the sky.
Picking through the underbrush, we collect them in baskets and return to the archmage’s hut.
He looks over our harvest, tosses away the fractured ones, and spots a good solid crystal.
“Perfect,” he says.
He places it over the eyes of our mother’s corpse, chants something, and then holds the crystal up to the light.
Mother’s battered face appears on the opposite wall.
“Parker the Butcher,” it says.
The killer is arrested, and justice is done.
Teacher
The scientists worked up a proposal for teaching chimpanzees language and applied for a grant.
It was rejected, and they were confronted with security officers, cattle-prods and whips.
“What is the meaning of this?” said the lead researcher.
“Shut up and get into the cages!” said an officer, cracking his whip.
Several days later, in the middle of a social grooming and bark-chewing rest period, the scientists learned that their proposal had been misread by the grant foundation, and they were being taught how to be chimpanzees.
Nobody spoke up, because it was fun.
And the mealworm treats were delicious.
Dark Arts
Unlike the psychics that the police would hire to find missing people, Morgaine Darkstone made people’s heads explode and fire to rain down from the sky.
So, the police hired anti-psychics, psi-resistant specialists who weren’t affected by Morgaine’s dark arts.
Once they had her trapped in the old abandoned Church Of Pain, department sniper-warlocks took her out with a meteor storm.
Her soul bled into the altar, so if you’re looking for the best unholy water, you’ve come to the right place
Ever seen what happens to a wedding where the champagne flutes have been washed with this stuff?
Priceless.
The Tree
I suppose we should go over a few things.
We’ve been fighting over that tree for too long. We need to settle this before it gets out of hand.
First, you said it’s on my side of the property line, so I have to take care of it.
But you took all the fruit from it.
Then, during the storm, I’m supposed to pay for that branch that fell on your house.
So, I cut it down. But you sued me?
That’s why I made a coffin from the wood.
Now sign this release, or I’ll bury you in it.
The Hypocrite
They showed me the activist’s profile.
“Professional protester. Trust fund baby. San Francisco.”
They let that out slowly: “San Francisco.”
Photos of a Pride parade, love and peace.
I saw him in a Gaza City cafe, sat down, and said “If I shouted Gay and you shouted Jew, who would they kill first?”
“Don’t,” he begged.
Where’s your pride now?
Coward.
That night, in bed, I told my boyfriend.
“Fucking faggots,” he said, and he held me as we laughed.
When I heard he was dying, I wrote him.
Wished there was a cure for his condition: hypocrisy and hate.
Testimony
Afraid.
Humiliated.
Bleeding.
No more!
Tablet after tablet, Cain marked every detail of Abel’s constant harassment, ridicule, cruelty, and torture.
And the abuse.. The awful touching… He felt disgusted, swam in the river until the wretched feeling passed, and then went back to the tablets with renewed fury.
When Cain was finished, he stacked the tablets and sought out his brother.
Many years later, Seth showed the tablets to Father Adam.
Adam wept, thought of his two lost sons, and smashed the tablets.
He then looked at Seth.
Would he stay silent?
Seth swore to, so Adam let him live.