Tag: sick

Kill Wilson

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Every prospective assassin is given a run through the simulation to determine if they’d fit into the agency.
They are handed a note that says “Go to the Foster Building and kill Wilson. Do not check in until you have killed Wilson.”
There are three people in the Foster Building with the last name Wilson, two with Wilson as a first name.
If the assassin does some basic research, they’ll figure out which is the right Wilson to kill and pass the test.
Those that kill all five fail the test.
And blowing the building up is a huge no-no.

group therapy

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every time i hear someone say that i’m as crazy as a shithouse rat, it pisses me off.
i’m far, far crazier than a shithouse rat. in fact, in group therapy, when i was put in a room full of shithouse rats, the shithouse rats all cowered in a corner while i just sat there and grinned.
one by one, i bit their heads off and ate them. their crazy skulls crunched between my teeth, like rat-flavored candies.
now the doctors just drug me and tie me up. but to be honest, i’ve never been a fan of group therapy.

Brickle Me Elmo

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She goes absolutely everywhere with that Elmo doll.
Those two are inseparable.
Five year-olds do that kind of thing. Clinging to your toys,
But when they’re sixteen, that’s when you should be concerned.
So, am I concerned?
I’m not.
Try not to be surprised.
You see, Staci emptied out the doll’s head and put a brick in it.
So far, she’s brained two rapists and a mugger.
“Self defense” worked for the DA. No charges filed.
That’s my girl.
I wish she’d let me wash it. The dried blood and bits of scalp don’t quite match the red fabric fur.

Like a bar of soap

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Travel to Insect Worlds requires Sleep.
Cory leaves her robe on a hook and lays down in the tub.
Five injections: her arms, her legs, and her heart.
Her skin turns pale.
Eyes closed, the monitor shows her slowing down for the sleep.
Muscles contract, her body tucks into a fetal position.
Pour in the electrogel.
One spark, and the gel turns white and solid. Like a bar of soap.
We slide it into the ship’s cargo hold.
Only the Insects can reverse the process. Nobody ever returns.
After all, it’s rude to send back your dinner to the kitchen.

Burning Hands

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Both of my hands are wrapped in bandages.
I don’t know why I held them over the fire.
It didn’t hurt at first. Then, it hurt. A lot.
The skin and nerves are gone from what muscle and bone remains.
I can’t tell how many fingers I have left. The bandages keep me from seeing them.
When they change the bandages, they won’t let me see.
“You do not want to see them yet,” the nurse says.
She puts another pill in my mouth, holds up a cup with a straw, and says everything will be fine.
And I sleep.

The Retarded Twins

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Julie and Judy were indistinguishable from each other for 80 years.
Usually, you can tell twins apart, but these two were exactly alike.
Including their mental retardation. So severe, their father walked out when they were 5 and their mother dead from suicide on their 10th birthday.
They were dressed in the same clothes, played with the same toys, and babbled the same babble.
They spent their lives in institutions together until one died.
Nobody knew which one, so they tossed a coin, declared Judy dead, and life went on as normal, or what passes for it for a retard.

Maggots

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I was in the hospital, laid up with a broken leg when the word got out that zombies were on the loose.
No guns. No machetes. Just fire extinguishers and the occasional bone saw.
That’s when it hit me.
“Maggots eat dead flesh,” I said. “Release a bunch of maggots and they’ll eat the zombies.”
The nurse went down to the stockroom and brought out three trays of maggots.
“Is that all?” I asked. “I was hoping for huge barrels full of the things. Maybe fill a moat with them.”
No.
Bar the doors. And pray the army shows up.

Fishing

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I used to go fishing with my grandfather.
No, I didn’t go on a boat or a dock to dish.
Instead, we’d go to the aquarium after dark and fish in the really big tank.
Not only is the water clear, but there’s a lot of really cool fish in there.
Okay, so there’s some really dangerous things in there like sharks, but you can yank the line up when those get close.
Or so we thought.
Grampa lost a foot. Ouch.
Good news, though: they recovered the shoe out of the shark’s stomach.
As if he needed it anymore.

Voltmaster’s Garden

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The Gardener of the Voltmaster’s hedge maze is the only man alive who knows how to navigate that nefarious path of thorns, pits, and snares.
We release five goblins into the north end of the maze and place five bags of gold coins at the southern exit.
These five bags are the same ones that have been used from year to year, because no goblin has ever completed the maze.
The Gardener usually waits a week before going in with a large burlap sack to collect their bodies.
“More volunteers for the resurrectionist!” he says, shaking the bag and laughing.

The Dog Still

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Boy, there comes a time in every kid’s life when he’s got to say goodbye to a pet. Do it without crying and whining and raising a fuss.
It’s your dog. I kinda used him to make a whiskey still.
Oh, sure, there was some leftover bits and pieces, but I went ahead and buried them in the back yard.
The rest is just chuggin away in the shed, makin that moonshine your grampaw sells in town.
So, don’t go cryin, and don’t go pettin’ my still or playin fetch with it.
Here. Have a sip. Hair of the dog.