Tag: mystery

The Last Drop

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When Charlie retired from the waterworks, they gave him a gold-plated watch and a cardboard box to put his stuff in.
He took everything home but a large half-empty bottle of poison, which he left in the middle of his desk.
Charlie had started every day with a fresh cup of coffee, walking to the Filtration Pump Room, and putting a drop of poison in the city’s water supply.
He figured it would toughen people up a bit in these difficult times.
Charlie also dumped his coffee into the city’s water supply, but that’s because the coffee was so bad.

Choose Your Death

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The catalog makes it very simple.
Every page has a different kind of death on it, a full-color photograph in all its grisly wonder.
I looked cold and hard at the page featuring the carbomb, but it was just a little too messy for my taste.
Plus, I kinda liked Steve’s car. Was hoping to buy it after… he bought it.
Then I saw the death I wanted: electrocution.
Their number was busy, so I went to the website… entered the data… and…
Transaction completed.
Wait… hold on…
Did I get the billing and shipping addresses mixed up?
Uh oh.

Zombie Garden

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You think of this place as a cemetery, but I think of it as a zombie garden.
See this bottle?
Let’s just say that this potion is the zombie equivalent of Miracle Gro.
I just pour it over the grave, wave my hand around, chant for a few seconds, and I’ve got a brand new zombie.
Well, not exactly brand new. Depending how old the corpse is, there’s the problem of rot and decay.
There’s another problem with this garden. The fruits of my labor don’t grow out of the ground by themselves.
Speaking of which, pass me the shovel.

Phantom Pain

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As a kid, I compulsively bit my fingernails.
I chewed them ragged and bloody.
Nothing could get me to stop.
After years of suffering, I finally went to a hypnotist.
He convinced me that they weren’t there to bite.
It worked.
On the way home, I was walking through Sears when I noticed the Craftsman display.
I mounted a blade into a circular saw and plugged it in.
The first finger was the hardest to cut off.
The rest were much, much easier.
They call it phantom pain. I still feel them there.
But I don’t want to bite them.

Cutting Through Grease

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George pulled a DVD from the shelf, opened the case, and poured dishwashing liquid all over it.
He watched the goo spread over the disk.
His wife walked into the room.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she said.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” said George. “I’m trying to cut through Grease.”
“You’ll do anything to get out of doing the dishes,” said George’s wife.
“Not really,” said George. “For instance: I won’t clean the toilets.”
George tried the experiment on Grease 2, and to his amazement, it split.
“Well, it was a weak movie,” said his wife.

Mister Thimble

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When I was little, I’d play Monopoly with my family.
They took the cool pieces, like the dog and the shoe.
All that was left was the hat and the thimble.
So, I put the hat on top of the thimble and called it Mister Thimble.
We were a team, Mister Thimble and I. Best of friends.
He still is my friend. I carry him everywhere.
Late at night, we talk about things.
Sometimes, we talk about you.
I like you, but Mister Thimble doesn’t like you.
Don’t say that Mister Thimble isn’t real.
He’s right here, watching you sleep.

Commando

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A ghost ate my underwear.
That’s right. A ghost ate my underwear.
I cannot imagine my underwear being appetizing to any living or nonliving creature, but I woke up to the sight of a spectral entity eating my underwear.
I was too tired to be scared, so I just came out with it: “Why are you’re eating my underwear?”
“I don’t know,” said the ghost. “Got any more?”
I wanted to ask the ghost what the Afterlife was like, but he finished the last of my boxers and vanished.
So, can you exorcise my underwear drawer for me, Father O’Malley?

Spork Girl

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Jenny got rejection notices from Teen Titans.
“Rejection is a part of life,” said her mother, comforting Jenny. “Come on, show me again what you can do.”
Jenny put a fork in one hand, a spoon in the other, and then put her hands behind her back.
“Abracadabra,” she said.
When she brought her hands back in front of her, she revealed the spork.
“Do you have to do that with the nice silverware, Jenny?” asked her mother. “Can’t you just do that with the plastic picnic spoons and forks?”
Jenny cried and ran to her room, slamming the door.

Volunteered

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Let’s not bullshit.
My kid needs your heart. Soon. We’re not sure how long he can hold on.
We’re not sure how long you can hold on, either.
Doctor says that you signed your organ donor card and didn’t want to be kept on life support, but your family trumped your wishes.
I’ve offered them money. They won’t take it.
Do I need to kill them, or just one to set an example and make them sign the forms?
I wish we could have met under better circumstances.
But for my kid’s sake, I’m still glad I ran you over.

Revenge Nog

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Edwin clutched his chest, wheezing what might have been words.
Iris wasn’t listening. She was just watching him, waiting for him to die.
He saw her emptying his pill case into the toilet, and his eyes went from surprise to anger.
For a moment, Iris considered calling 911.
She rubbed her arm where he’d last burned her, and decided to wait just a little longer.
Edwin had just enough fight left in him to get up from the chair and lunge at her.
She stepped back.
Some plastic surgery for the scars.
Yeah, that would be her gift to herself.