Category: My stories

The Dwarves at Night

605018

Sarah noticed that she smelled of strawberries when she woke up.
The shower washed it away, but every night, it kept coming back.
One night, she awoke to a pair of dwarves, lifting up her shirt and opening the lid of a jar of strawberry jam.
She pulled her shirt back down.
“What do you two think you’re doing?” she snarled.
The dwarves looked at each other and then back at her.
“Do you not like strawberry?” one asked.
Sarah said “There’s grape jelly in the fridge.”
She went back to sleep, and woke up feeling sticky and quite relieved.

Bother The Shit

605022

My Uncle Leo bothers the shit out of me.
He literally bothers the shit out of everyone.
Yes, he’s a professional constipation remedy.
He’s most effective when he bothers the shit out of you in person, but he’s so bothersome, he can do it over the phone or even by email.
There’s recordings of Uncle Leo on the Internet being sold without his permission, but they’re not as effective as the real thing.
And some of them are downright dangerous, remixed to the point where he literally bothers the hell of you.
Try closing that dimensional portal in your ass!

PENALTY STORY: The City Of The Dead

605027

The entire city is rubble.
No bombs. No floods.
Earthquake.
Bodies covered with dust, blood, and debris all over the place.
There is no light, except for the fires sweeping through buildings and the moonlight in this grimy night.
No sirens of ambulances. Water flowing through busted pipes.
Just endless screaming, crying, and shrieking.
In French, Spanish, and English they shout “Why?”
Another aftershock, a rumble… more clouds of dust kicked up in the air, people run but have nowhere to go.
I pick up the remote and bring up the program guide.
There must be something else on TV.

Dragged through the mud

605030

I like to drag people’s names through the mud.
So, when it rains, I gather up the phonebooks and drag them through the mud.
People think I’m just playing in the mud and they point and laugh at me, but the joke is on them!
Unless they have an unlisted number, their names are being dragged through it.
I have an unlisted number, so I’m not dragging my name through the mud.
I’m as clean as a whistle.
Well, except for this mud on me. But you can’t avoid getting mud on you when you drag names through the mud.

Tuesday Tax

605018

He goes door to door, collecting the Tuesday Tax.
Sometimes, it’s a chicken. Other times, it’s a flake of gold.
I pay with recycled motor oil.
Nobody ever pays the Tuesday Tax in cash.
The law doesn’t require it, so people take their frustration out on the Tuesday Tax Man with the most difficult of barter to exchange.
He writes his collections in a huge ledger, tears off a receipt, and drags everything back to his truck before moving on.
We found his body the next day, silver bullet in his chest.
He wrote the receipt in his own blood.

The Dolls

605016

No matter how deep I dig, I keep bringing up buckets full of dolls.
I knew that my dog steals them from neighborhood kids to bury in the back yard, but I never knew how many until I had to put in new flowers.
There’s hundreds… thousands in here.
There’s no way my dog did all of this. It’s just too many, and way too deep.
As I go back down, two dolls fall on my head.
I look up.
It’s my dog… and another dog.
He’s teaching others.
A howl. More dogs come.
Dirt rains down.
They’re burying me!

Cheap Knives

605019

You can tell the class of friends you have by the quality of knife they stick in your back.
Sterling silver is the best. Those are the ones you forgive.
Stainless steel, maybe you don’t forgive them so quickly.
And plastic knives, those you should have never been friendly with in the first place.
The kind of knife matters, too.
A carving knife or a butcher’s knife lets you know they really care, while a butter knife will just slide right off no matter what it’s made of.
So that spork you stuck in my back, that’s low, man. Low.

The Brass Medusa

597182

I love statues.
But I always wonder about how they’re posed.
Usually, they’re just standing there, looking pompous or proud.
Or they’re on a horse. A leg or two up.
Sometimes, I envision the ancient Medusa, slithering around the early American colonies, staring at famous Founding Fathers and her gaze transforming them into brass.
Then I realize that they’d have their hands up, faces frozen in fright.
If I ever get famous to the point of earning a statue in my honor, that’s how I want to be depicted: like something horrible and scary turned me to brass or stone.

Get Out Of Bed!

599223

For some people, it’s the alarm clock.
For others, it’s getting licked on the face by their dog or cat.
What gets me out of bed, well, that’s kind of a moot point.
I never get out of bed.
Ever since the drunk driver hit me, I’ve been here.
The tubes, wires, and nurses do everything for me.
And when they can’t, well, they put me under and cut more stuff off or stick in more tubes and wires.
The brown tube there, well, that pumps out my shit.
Probably to the kitchen, based on how this damn porridge tastes.

Beehive

605014

Flossie has a beehive hairdo.
It’s got actual bees in it, too.
Whenever she needs honey, she fogs her head with a smoker, waits a minute, and then pulls out a honeycomb to scrape.
Then she sticks it back in her hair and walks around until the smoke clears.
The bees wake up, and all is back to normal.
How does she wash her hair?
How does she sleep?
How does she have sex?
Yeah, try myself, but I’m not beating that hornet’s nest?
No. Really. There’s a hornet’s nest down there.
Not even with a beekeeper’s gimp suit, man.