Category: My stories

Roll Out The Barrel

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As the band played the Beer Barrel Polka, we rolled out the barrel and propped it up.
Something shifted inside. Something solid.
We opened it up and found a corpse.
According to the wallet in his jacket pocket, he was Jimmy “The Fish” Muldoon, a heavy with the Chicago Mafia.
“So, what do we do?” said the tuba player. “Any ideas, guys?”
“Hey, it’s the Beer Barrel Polka!” I shouted. “Let’s roll out the barrel of fun!”
We tapped another keg and partied hard with Jimmy.
The next morning, we all envied Jimmy, being too dead to be hung over.

The Bag

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I am sitting on a park bench, and a really nasty, grizzled bum sits down on the park bench next to me.
He raises a paper bag to his face every few seconds.
I try to ignore him, but I just want to yell at the guy to go away… leave… go drink in some alley.
Before I can say anything, he takes the bottle out of the bag and offers me the bag.
“You look like you’re about to hyperventilate,” he says. “Breathe into this a few times and you’ll feel better.”
Then he gets up and walks away.

Cookiegammon

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I like to play backgammon, but instead of checkers, I use cookies.
You just have to make sure that the cookies are different colors. Otherwise, you can’t tell which are your cookies and which are mine.
If you like Nutter Butters, then I’ll use Oreos.
I like Oreos.
We can put the cookies on the board, roll dice, and play until it’s time to bear the cookies off.
Every cookie you bear off, you get to eat.
Yummy!
Of course, eating 15 cookies can make you feel really sick.
Now you know why I don’t play with a doubling cube.

The Milk of The Storm

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Why do people rush to buy milk before a snowstorm?
This, we do not know. The invaders stole and destroyed many historical tapestries, and the oral tradition is lost.
Still, when the weather gets cold and the radio says it will blizzard, we rush to buy milk.
Even the lactose intolerant. The urge is deep in our blood. It is second-nature, like sneezing or smiling at babies.
When the snowdrifts rise against windows, we sit in the dark, starting at the milk.
It just sits there… until we pour in cereal…
Like firecrackers! Gunshots!
FIESTA TIME!
Viva la breakfast resolution!

The Clock Struck

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Commissioner Gordon handed Batman the note.
“At half-past twelve, the clock stuck three,” said The Caped Crusader.
“What does that mean?” growled Chief O’Hara.
“I don’t know,” said Batman. “But it’s almost twelve-thirty now.”
Across the street, an explosion rocked the First City Bank Tower.
All three ran to the window, just as the building’s massive clock broke from its moorings and crashed through the office.
Batman. O’Hara. Gordon.
Dead.
Later that evening, Riddler and Joker divvied up the loot.
“I told you it would work,” said the Clown Prince Of Crime. ”Hey, let’s go kill Superman.”
They both laughed.

The River Ice

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One day, the river was flowing.
The next, the river was covered with a sheet of ice.
I have never watched a river freeze.
So, when I heard that the forecast called for a deep freeze, I got bundled up and headed out to the river to watch.
The temperature dropped quickly, and I could see my breath through the scarf.
Snow falls, I can see white on the riverbanks… then dark shapes in the dark, shimmering water.
My eyes are heavy with the cold, but I still watch.
The shimmering water slows, until…
Until I have frozen to death.

The Cheese

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Sister Hexx warns me that the cheese can be dangerous.
Lord, was she ever so right.
I opened the refrigerator door and reached for the cheese.
I had a cheese knife.
The cheese had a gun.
You know, my doctor had said that cheese was bad for me, but who listens to their doctor?
He said the same with red meat.
I look out the window, a slab of red meat behind the wheel of a Buick, circling the block.
The dent in the hood, the cracked windshield.
I was lucky, yes, but one day my luck will run out.

These Donuts

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I see a trail of mini-donuts leading into the woods.
They wind through the trees until they trail into a cave.
At first, I thought it was a trap set by a bear to lure people to their doom.
Then, I saw a caveman come out of the cave, picking up and devouring the donuts.
I follow the trail of donuts out of the woods, and it ends in Spain.
What the Spanish want with him, I’m not sure.
Thoroughly confused, I head to the donuts shop, where I am captured with a butterfly net and dragged into the back.

Nose hairs

605017

The chief of the Yil-Doi tribe lays on his buckskin stretcher, facing the stars with lifeless eyes.
His son takes his badge of office, a bag made of woven strings of brightly-colored beads, and places it on his belt.
“I am the new chief now,” he says. “You warned me that I would cry at your passing into the darkness, father, but I have not.”
He is immediately grabbed by two braves.
They place tweezers of antler bone into his nose, pluck out three hairs, and place them in the holy bag.
Tears and snot ran down his aching face.

Foot Fungus

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Dr. O’Grady had been seeing the patient for a decade, treating his chronic foot fungus as best as he could.
He never cured it, but it never progressed beyond those two toes, so that was something, right?
The coroner quietly ushered him into the morgue.
“He was your patient, so I thought it best that you see him,” he whispered.
“Why are we whispering?” asked O’Grady.
The coroner pulled up the sheet to reveal a roughly human-shaped glob of deep red fungus.
“I’m not sure he… it is dead,” said the coroner. “And I don’t want to wake it up.”