Army of the Damned

The ancient wizard on the outskirts of town said he was collecting up minions to build up an army of the damned.
“With my army, I’ll conquer the world!” shouted the wizard.
One of his minions spoke up. “What about a navy?”
The wizard raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Well, the British proved that naval forces are critical to maintain a global empire.”
Another minion put his hand up. “And the Americans demonstrated that air superiority allows rapid force projection. Will we have a damned air force?”
The first man was drowned.
The other was flung by catapult.
“Damn,” they said.

Hold My Calls

Winston’s last words were “hold my calls.”
And then, an hour later, he died from a heart attack.
Winston’s phone rang while the orderlies were moving his body down to the morgue for processing.
“Hey! Hey there!” shouted the phone, over and over.
It was Winston’s voice shouting as the ringtone, and it scared the fuck out of the orderlies.
“I warned you,” cackled Winston’s ghost.
Then his spirit wandered off to the emergency room, where he placed bets with the other ghosts on who would live or die.
Which was awkward when those dying patients became ghosts too.

Flying Reindeer

There’s nothing I hate more than when parents lie to their children and make them believe in Santa, the Easter Bunny, and Ben Affleck movies that don’t suck.
They’re all a lie.
North Pole? Santa?
All the crap we buy and give as gifts really comes from China.
Based on the wretched environmental conditions in China, imagine how much worse the North Pole would be.
It would be a toxic nightmare of a wasteland.
But then, it would explain the flying reindeer.
Would you want to step in any of that chemical crap?
I’d mutate and learn to fly, too.

Tongues

The salesman put a briefcase on the table in front of Jenny and lifted the lid
Inside were dozens of tongues. Wet. Crawling. Like a pile of earthworms.
“You wanted French?” he said, digging around the pile. He pulled out a tongue and looked it over. “Let’s try this one. Open wide.”
Jenny opened her mouth, and the salesman yanked out her tongue. Then he stuck in the tongue from the pile.
“Say something,” he said.
Jenny spoke, but she couldn’t understand a word.
The salesman pulled out another case. “You’ll need these, too.”
Inside was a pile of ears.

Rainbow

When I asked a developer how his software works, he said that it runs on the magical rainbow particles that are farted out by the unicorns in the basement.
“All software companies have them,” he said. “But we have to keep it a secret. So, we write a bunch of sloppy code and confusing documentation to hide the unicorns behind.”
I laughed, but the developer hushed me up quickly. “Don’t laugh so loud!” He hissed. “You’ll piss off the unicorns!”
“Unicorns!” I said incredulously. “In the basement!”
I opened the basement door, and…
Magical rainbow particles really fucking burn, man.

Count Your Gooses Before They Hatch

You’ve heard of the goose that laid the golden eggs, but have you heard of the golden goose that laid eggs?
I’m not sure which is weirder: An inanimate object laying living, organic eggs or a living creature laying solid metal eggs.
I tried to explain this to the guy who owned the golden goose, but he just wanted to melt the goose down and sell the gold.
“Have you seen the price of gold?” he replied.
“This is a miracle goose!” I pleaded. “You can’t melt it down!”
He did anyway.
The goose turned out to be gold-plated lead.

The Frog Princess

The princess found herself a prince, but he’d been cursed into the shape of a frog.
He told her that the curse would be lifted if she were to kiss him.
“At least that tasted good,” the princess said to the still-cursed frog prince.
“Maybe you need to do something else?” said the frog.
Grinning, she lifted her dress and shoved the squirming frog between her legs.
The experience was magical in more ways than one.
Exhausted, she looked up at her prince.
“Marry me,” she said.
“Hell no,” said the prince. “You fucked a frog, you disgusting freaky bitch.”

The Chant

The teacher collected the permission slips, smiled, and began to chant.
Smoke filled the room, and a swirling portal opened in the middle of the blackboard.
The students rose up from their desks and flew through the door into the Shadow Zone.
Once the last student went through the portal, the smoke cleared.
The teacher sat back in his chair, put his feet on the desk, and enjoyed the silence.
The students would be back when the candle went out.
Candle?
Oh oh. He forgot to light the candle.
He pulled out his cell phone and called the union representative.

Tink

Tinkerbell flew around the dinner table of the Lost Boys, trailing her pixie dust and laughing.
But none of the boys raised their heads to laugh along. All just moaned and held their aching bellies.
Tinkerbell landed on the table and walked from boy to boy.
Red flushed faces.
Never-food vomiting.
Sunken eyes.
Bleeding sores.
Thinning hair.
Even her beloved Peter was looking haggard, unable to raise himself to crow.
One by one, the Lost Boys died of radiation sickness, not that Tinkerbell ever figured that out.
She flew away, trailing her sparkling deadly Radium trail… I mean pixie dust.

Jammed Up

Traffic. Jammed up solid.
Arthur brought his hands together with a clap, shouted YIELD!, and then pulled them apart quickly.
The cars in front of him flew to both sides of the street, clearing a path for him to drive through.
Only until after Arthur had passed through did people climb out of their cars or come out of their doors to survey the damage.
“Damn Wizards union,” muttered a taxi driver. His cab had been forced into a grocer’s sidewalk display of apples.
The insurance company wouldn’t pay for damages either.
He bought an apple and listened for sirens.