Tag: cliche

Goalposts

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There’s no greater thrill than when your team wins the championship and the crowd tears the goalposts down.
I wish we had stopped at that.
After the goalposts came down, we started tearing up the field, ripping huge sheets of sod and tossing them around like bathroom mats.
Then we busted up the concession stands and the bathrooms.
The seats and bleachers took some effort, but soon enough, we were throwing seats around smashing them to bits.
The rest of the stadium required heavy construction equipment, but we were persistent and fired up.
A final cheer, then we went home.

Three Miles

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Ever walk a mile with a sword stuck through your chest?
I have. Three times.
The first time was when I got into a fight with The Ninja Master.
He was the best swordsman in all of Japan.
So how did I beat him?
I’m not from Japan.
I’m the best in the world.
Not by much – his head flew off as his sword struck home.
Missed every vital organ.
I walked the mile to my master’s house.
“I told you: bring me his head,” he growled.
I had to walk back to get it.
And then, back again.

River Rock

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Eloise noticed a strange bit of data in the mortality report.
Nobody had ever died in Rock River County on the weekend in the past forty years.
She thought it odd, even if it was a backwoods town of barely 1,000 people.
No email address for the local clinic.
She tried calling them. Busy.
When the clinic did pick up, it was the doctor’s wife. She acted as nurse and secretary.
“Earl goes hunting on weekends,” she said. “If someone dies, well, they can wait till he gets back Monday to pronounce them dead. Ain’t like they’re in a rush.”

Comes earlier

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Christmas comes earlier every year.

Stores put the displays and trees before Halloween.

That’s why the elves went on strike.

You see, they’ve been working without a contract for over a century now.

While the reindeer still only work one night, the elves still have to ramp up production faster and faster for these earlier holiday sales.

Faster turnaround means less time for maintenance, too.
More work accidents, drinking on the job – that kind of thing.

Santa didn’t pay attention to the growing discontent in the workshop.

The elves are building a bonfire.

Santa’s tied to a stake, screaming.

Wands

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The White Mage volunteered at the local school as the band instructor. A welcome break from experiments with potions and wands.
He put away his projects, picked up his baton, and headed out the door to make the trip to the school.
Servants follow the children of the nobility into the recital hall, bearing instruments of all sizes.
They find their seats while the Mage tapped his baton on the lectern for attention.
Fireballs flew out the end, incinerating the strings section.
“No wonder why that wand wouldn’t hold a charge,” he said, servants attacking the flames with water buckets.

Life Hands You Lemons

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When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.
So, I did.
Death handed me lemons, too.
I made lemonade with them.
Karma gave me lemons. More lemonade.
Then, Fate handed me a bag.
“More lemons?” I asked. “Please, not more lemons.”
Fate nodded yes.
So here I am, sitting on an island of lemons in a lake of lemonade.
Instead of a boat to rescue me, everybody’s bringing me lemons.
They ask lemon advice, when to plant, when to pick.
They want me to write a book.
ENOUGH!
If life hands you lemons, yell GET THESE FUCKING LEMONS AWAY FROM ME!

Miss November

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In the old days, you ran out of film.
Now, with these digital cameras, your battery is always dying.
Miss November passes out, her nose bleeding from snorting enough lines of cocaine to line Ebbets Field.
They got enough pictures to last her shelf life, every angle, every expression.
Everything uploaded, scanned, rendered, and ready with a single click of the mouse.
Backdrops and shadows are her passport, just lay her over, matte, and print.
“What were her dislikes?” asks the publisher, lighting his pipe.
The coroner suggests hard linoleum, shaking his head at the corpse on the bathroom floor.

Primordial

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The primordial soup is full of amino acids.
Add a little electrical energy in the form of lightning to get the building blocks of life.
Perhaps with the primordial soup you can get a primordial sandwich. Nothing complex… Just some lettuce and tomato.
A sprinkle of dill? Perfect.
How about a primordial salad to go with that? That, my friend, is a good lunch. You won’t need a big primordial dinner after a primordial lunch like that.
Just be sure to leave a good primordial tip for this primordial lunch or the primordial waitress will get medieval on your ass.

Apple Bobbing

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I love Halloween. It’s the best time of the year.
The candy. The costumes. The cool breeze in the air.
Most of all, I love apple bobbing.
Fill a washtub with water, toss in a few apples, put your hands behind your back, and then try to catch an apple with your mouth.
It’s so fun!
Ever tried other fruits?
Bananas are way too easy.
Watermelons are just too big.
No, it’s best to stick to apples.
I know one guy who likes to bob for lobsters, but that’s taking “choose your lobster from the tank” a little too far.

New Shoes

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They say you don’t know a person until you walk a mile in his shoes.
So the moment I put on a new pair… Amnesia!
I hadn’t yet walked a mile in them.
Who am I?
Where am I?
Hey, these are some nice shoes.
I walked around the mall, staring at my driver’s license.
The people at the Information Desk offered to call an ambulance, but I felt fine.
I jingled the car keys in my hand… which was my car?
I wandered the parking lot, confused.
From now on, I’m using a treadmill and writing myself a note.