Tag: cliche

On the eighth day…

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On the seventh day, God rested.
But on the eighth day, the angels came to God’s office and found the door locked.
There were strange sounds coming from behind the door.
Nothing the angels immediately recognized.
Maybe heavy breathing, or a wet finger stroked along the lip of a wineglass.
They knocked a few times, but the door didn’t open.
And the sounds became louder and stranger.
Some of the angels wanted to break the door down, but in the end, they just walked away.
On the ninth day, there was no door.
The angels walked in circles and screamed.

Knots in my stomach

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I feel knots in my stomach.
So, I swallow a Boy Scout.
He crawls back out.
“I forgot my flashlight,” he says, and crawls back in.
He tries to untie it, but it turns out that his knots badge is a fake.
So, I go down to the docks and swallow a dockworker.
You’d think that a professional who works with knots all day could untie it, but he was stumped.
“I just do boat hitches,” he said, tipping his cap and going back to work.
So, you say you’re a backpacker?
Handy with bungee cord?
Mind taking a look?

Astonished

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Nobody was astonished when Missy Johnson ended up in prison.
She was the black sheep of the family, the first kid to be sent to reform school kindergarten.
When other children were learning to count and watching Sesame Street, she was running guns to Belize and ruled the city’s drug lords with an iron fist.
In between Nap Times, of course.
Pretty soon, all organized crime in the world was under Missy’s thumb, and her babysitters became her lieutenants, helping her run a global prostitution ring.
And then, prison.
She turned herself in voluntarily.
Safer behind bars, opulent accommodations nonetheless.

Vagrant

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Of all of Zeus’ guises, he enjoyed taking the form of a vagrant the most.
There was something strange about having a body, but still being invisible to everyone around him.
Nobody sees what they don’t want to see.
People would pass him by, only noticing him if he were in their way, blocking their progress through their pointless mortal lives.
“Get out of my way, you bum!” growled a merchant. “Can’t you see I’m busy shopping for my wife?”
Leda, isn’t it? thought Zeus.
He smiled a rakish smile and took the form of a swan.
A well-endowed swan.

Beating

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My stomach is growling.
But I just ate.
I just ate a dog. And the dog is growling.
It’s a small dog, so I could still be hungry.
And if my stomach is growling because I am still hungry, the dog might be growling back at my stomach.
I will beat it with a hammer until it stops growling.
(The dog, not my stomach)
(Although if I beat the dog, I beat my stomach, since it is inside my stomach.)
I should never have eaten the dog.
But I was hungry and my stomach was growling.
Like it is now.

City of Smoke

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The smoke came gradually, over decades.
At first, people could go around with a wet handkerchief on their faces, but after a while we needed full facemasks and breathing filters.
Eventually, nothing but air tanks would suffice.
Travelers say the Five Cities have also been swallowed by the smoke, and it has almost reached the Sea of Sorrows.
Warlock Sturgis once kept the smoke at bay, but he and his apprentice vanished years ago.
He left his library behind, but none of the sages and scholars can comprehend his writings.
Maybe one day he’ll return.
Until then, we breathe uneasy.

Mirror Mirror

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What?
Yes, my name is Mirror Mirror.
My parents had a sick sense of humor.
The Queen was just plain sick.
When she found out about my skill with poetry, I was dragged to the castle so that I could heap praise upon her beauty.
Well, until that beauty faded.
Then, one day, I caught a glimpse of a beautiful girl walking down the road outside the castle.
“Snow White,” the scullery maid said her name was.
I was left speechless.
The Queen asked me who the fairest of all was.
I answered, and was chained to the dungeon wall.

Butt Dial

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Even though the experiment was a success, Bell and Watson needed to perfect the telephone device before heading to the patent office.
Some of their ideas were improvements on the original concept and others weren’t.
For instance, Watson rigged up a chair to the telephone that would call the other unit when someone sat down.
“Call someone else with your butt?” said Bell. “How brilliant and simple!”
After sitting down to think and calling each other over and over, they decided not to add the feature.
But today, it’s standard with cell phones.
Just put it in your back pocket.

Leviathan 2000

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Looking through the ruin and carnage, I picked up a brochure and read:
The Leviathan 2000 is the latest in automated remote divine intervention tools, complete with long-range supernatural telepresence, formidable firepower without match, and a preternaturally intelligent network system for coordinating complex maneuvers from dancing on the head of a pin to waging battles against the fires of the infernal pit.
Furthermore, this miracle of modern machinery will go where angels fear to tread, all through the Divine Will of the operator.
From the looks of things these days, blood and ashes, the angels didn’t take to downsizing well.

The Smell of Gasoline

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There’s one thing worse than the smell of gasoline, and that’s the taste.
Murloney’s boys dragged me to this warehouse and tied me to this chair so they could splash me with high-octane cologne.
“You missed behind the ears,” I said, and they punched my lights out.
I woke up to a spotlight in my face.
Laughing, glasses clinking. Groans from dozens of other guys tied to chairs.
All on top of a gigantic cake in the middle of a party.
“Happy birthday, boss!” said a goon. “Sixty years young!”
Mulroney laughed. “I’ll take my time blowing out these candles.”