Fred and Joey do car maintenance together. They just don’t do a good job of it.
Sure, they offer a money-back guarantee if you’re not satisfied with their work, but the odds are that you won’t collect on that.
The county’s got a lot of hills and ravines, and if your brakes fail, you’re pretty much a goner whether you’ve got your seatbelt on, or those fancy new airbags going off.
Joey thought Fred was stealing from him. And Fred thought the same as Joey.
Both ended up wrecked in the bottom of Smith’s Gulch, money burning in their pockets.
Billy was always getting into trouble with the other kids.
Trouble, as in things you don’t talk about.
Inappropriate touches. Things you can’t chalk up to youthful curiosity.
Things you lock up in the basement or the attic, and you try to forget about.
His parents were always telling him to keep his hands to himself.
So, he did. And for a while, things calmed down to the point where they thought they could send him back to school.
But when you use a branding iron, nobody needs a doll to show where the bad man touched them.
Louis Pasteur is famous for using heat to kill germs in liquids, such as beer and milk.
But this was all a cover up to hide the fact that he was a notorious serial killer.
Yep. He boiled his victims.
“Pasteurization” was originally what the press called a person who was boiled to death.
Pasteur was about to be arrested for dozens of murders when the whole “use heat to kill germs” defense came up.
The benefit to public health outweighed the risk to public safety, and Pasteur was released.
Let us raise a toast to Pasteur, that crazy bastard!
The Lorax told The Onceler that he spoke for the trees.
A few months later, all the trees were gone, and The Lorax was out of a job.
He lifted himself into the sky, where he flew back to the PR firm he worked for in New York.
“Well, that ended badly,” said his boss. “And those trees haven’t paid any of our invoices, either.”
The Lorax was handed a “rehab” account to get him back on track, and he did well with it.
Then, a tobacco company.
“Shit,” said The Lorax.
“You again?” asked The Onceler, smoking a cigar.
Whenever someone throws the “Christ-Killer” insult at me, I snap their photograph and run their face through my databases.
Then, I go back in time and kill their mother before they are born.
When I return to the present time, the person is gone, because they never existed.
No, I didn’t kill Jesus this way. It would mess up too many things.
Nor did I shout with the rest of the crowd to call for Jesus’ death.
Instead, I waited for the guy after he “came back.”
Stuffed his body in the time machine engine.
The book says he’s “ascended.”
Bill wasn’t the brightest, but he was their man in Washington. So, his benefactors kept him in office, and they kept him happy.
Whatever he wanted, he got. And whatever they wanted, they got.
Sure, there were probes, but they gave him lawyers, and he never took the rap for anything.
Every two years, people went to the polls and voted for Bill. Unopposed, every time.
Bill would have a quiet victory party, and then head off to bed.
The next day, back to work, catching dogs.
His benefactors delivered the goods: food, litter.
Way, way overpriced.
Aren’t kickbacks great?
Fred always got high marks for penmanship. And nothing else. So, he never got into college, let alone earn a high school diploma.
That’s when he had the idea to kidnap. He figured one or two a year would net him a decent living.
The first was easy, until they got the ransom note.
“This is stunning penmanship!” said the hostage’s wife. And she had it framed.
He sent more ransom notes, and they got auctioned at Christine’s for a fortune. “Send more!” said the hostage’s wife.
Fred cut off the guy’s ear.
“That’s worthless!” said the hostage’s wife angrily.
I spent the whole night on the beach with her.
Sat next to her and watched the tide come in.
She begged for me to dig her out of the sand, but there’s no way I’d do that.
So, I gagged her before she started screaming.
As each wave rolled in closer, she went from scared to angry to what I swear was forgiveness.
Like all the others.
Sometimes, I dig them out after they get a wave or two against their face.
But not this one. This one belongs to the Sea Gods.
“Yes,” they demand.
And I comply.
Things are a bit shaky where I work.
There’s been a lot of turnover recently.
When employees quit or get fired, management sends out a memo to the staff to let them know.
That way, you know who to go to for something.
But they never say why the person is leaving.
Some say it was sexual harassment
Other say it as a personality conflict with bosses.
Instead of participating in water-cooler gossip, I just assume that they were eaten by clowns.
So, when they hired a clown for my surprise birthday party, I stabbed him with the cake knife.
Tina was one of those “special” kids.
Looked totally normal from the outside. No limp or big forehead, or tubes sticking out of her. Okay, maybe going everywhere with her Betsy Wetsy was a bit off.
She was just kinda slow.
Her parents tried hard to “mainstream” her with routines and chores: clean her room, vacuum the floors, do the dishes. That kind of thing.
When her dolly got messy from being dragged in the mud, she could run her through the dishwasher herself.
As for the kids she was supposed to be babysitting, that’s for a jury to decide.