If you like offbeat theater, then Ambrose Phillip Glossky’s “The Funeral” at The Don Travis Orpheum on Main Street is the show for you.
It’s a one man show, starring you. In a casket. The audience is the cast, coming to your funeral.
Don’t get up for a bathroom break, though. The cast might shout ZOMBIE! and shoot you in the face with a shotgun.
It’s the hottest ticket in town. Literally. The ticket is made of Tungsten, and the blacksmith in the box office super-heats it to a mind-boggling two thousand degrees.
On second thought, let’s go see Wicked.
Tag: dystopia
The Itsy Bitsy Disaster
The itsy-bitsy spider went up the waterspout.
Down came the rain, and washed the spider out.
The rain washed out the bridge to the mainland, too.
National Guardsmen quickly evacuated residents with boats.
But the rain kept coming, and they used helicopters to pull people off of their roofs.
When the rain stopped, it took a while for the water level to drop.
A few houses had caught fire because of gas leaks.
Locals were allowed to return to salvage anything they could.
One guy clutched his chest and dropped dead.
Heart attack? No. It was a poisonous spider bite.
Designer
Ted wasn’t just a designer. He was a famous and successful designer.
Ted’s doorstops were the best doorstops available. They performed great and looked great.
Same with his potholders. And his toilet brushes. And countless other helpful accessories.
They were best-selling products.
When he was called the best designer in the world, his closest rival called bullshit.
And he designed the perfect door, which didn’t need a doorstop. A pot that no longer needed a potholder. Self-cleaning toilets.
Every one of Ted’s designs were now useless.
Manufacturers ignored the rival. Because they could sell the crap products AND Ted’s junk.
Voices in Jeopardy
When the angry voices in his head came back, Harry checked himself into the hospital.
The doctors tried a variety of medicines, but they made the voices angry.
So, the doctors took Harry to an amusement park. And the voices had a good time.
Then, they had Harry try out for Jeopardy as a contestant. The voices helped him with the answers, and he won match after match.
Harry should have become rich on the winnings, but the show found out about the voices and claimed he was cheating.
Harry checked himself into the hospital, soaked in Alex Trebek’s blood.
Play With Fire
Other kids played with action figures and board games.
I played with fire.
Fire was fun and cheap. And it was so much more fun than action figures and board games.
And it was great for ending arguments.
Paper beats rock, rock beats scissors, scissors beat paper, and fire beats them all.
Water beats fire?
No! Fire boils water and turns it to steam. Fire beats water.
I’ve heard people say that children shouldn’t play with fire, but fire has no warning labels on it.
That must mean that fire is safe for all ages, right?
Here’s some fire… enjoy!
Snake Handlers
I saw a snake in our yard. It was long and black.
I took a picture of it and sent it to Facebook.
“That’s a water moccasin,” a friend said. “It’s poisonous.”
We called 911, who told us to call 311. They sent us to Animal Control, but they said they don’t do snakes. “Call a snake wrangler.”
They didn’t have the number handy. And Siri kept offering to download “Snakes On A Plane” for 99 cents.
We eventually got it trapped in a heavy burlap sack.
Finally, we looked up Animal Control’s address and slipped it into their mailbox.
Term Limits
Every Thursday afternoon, Congress empties out, and races to Reagan National for flights to their home districts.
Some would say this is to get the hell back home, but it’s really so that they can get back for an early start on weekend campaign fundraising.
I did a little fundraising of my own, too. On Kickstarter.
The project was to create medical nanobots, but there are so many other uses for these little buggers.
Project Term Limits: nanobots in the fuel supply for all these jet planes. To crash them.
When the last plane takes off, I send the signal.
Arm’s Length
Nancy didn’t like other people, so she kept everyone at arm’s length.
When she was a baby, her arms were stubby, so she couldn’t keep people from tickling her toes or getting in her face and babbling baby-talk at her.
As she grew, her arms grew too, and she could keep people a bit further away.
But still not far enough.
So, she had a series of surgeries to lengthen her arms.
Eventually, her arms were freakishly long enough to scare people away.
She enjoyed the peace… until she tried to brush her teeth and stabbed herself in the head.
Happy as a clam
My friend Billy says he is as happy as a clam.
How happy are clams? And how can you tell?
The government offered millions of dollars in research grants to determine how happy clams are.
It’s part of a greater project to determine the overall happiness of coastal bivalves and mollusks, such as oysters and mussels.
Of course, the research is really just a cover for a bunch of grad students and professors holding clam bakes and oyster parties at the taxpayer’s expense.
Sure, they say the clams are happy, but I’m not happy about getting shucked for this shit.
Santa Survives
Santa Claus watched horrors spread across the globe.
Humanity completely lost its shit all at once, and aside from a few hundred thousand survivors, every society had collapsed. The toxic clouds and radiation waves would finish the rest off soon enough.
Santa tore up his naughty and nice lists, and set his elves to working on a space ship.
“We’ll set up shop on the moon or Mars,” he said.
The elves made a spaceship.
A toy spaceship.
“Fuck,” murmured Claus, and he coughed up some blood.
The elves fought over the remaining reindeer meat before they got sick too.