Tag: mystery

The Chicken

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Some people ask Which came first, the chicken or the egg?
Me, I don’t ask such things.
Instead, I ask Which came first, the San Diego Chicken or the San Diego Egg?
It turns out that the San Diego Chicken was first, the “Grand Hatching” as “The Famous Chicken” happening later in 1979, although initially he was known as the KGB Chicken.
Wait… he was a Russian spy?
Well, KGB was the radio station that came up with the idea, but their call letters being similar to that of the Russian spy service is just a coincidence.
Sure it is.

Arthur’s Trick

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Arthur’s trick was he’d take a fruit, turn around, and when he’d turn back a second later he’d have the empty peel in one hand and the fruit in the other hand.
We checked his pockets and his jacket, but he wasn’t concealing an already-peeled fruit anywhere. And if you’d draw something on the rind with a magic marker, that exact mark would be on the peel.
Tommy wanted to watch it happen. He stood behind Arthur, and Arthur turned…
I have never heard a scream like that, animal or human.
We don’t ask Arthur to do the trick anymore.

Unlicensed to kill

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Bond’s license to kill was revoked last year because he shot too many bartenders who stirred his martini.
“I said shaken, dammit!” he’d shout. “Shaken!”
Three warnings later, he was disarmed for the good of mixologists around the world.
“What do I do now?” growled Bond as his trademark Walther PPK was returned to the gun vault.
“Run really fast,” said the controller. “Or call the cops.”
Assigned to spy on Taleban slavelords, Bond lasted seventeen hours in the field. He was last seen dialing 999 on his bowtie cellphone as three midget ninjas carved him into itty bitty pieces.

Robots kill robots

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“Robots kill robots,” chanted the robots as they marched, rolled, tumbled, and hopped into the arena.
The crowd roared, thirsty for blood.
In the last three seasons, they got it. Robots had to consist of 50% organic components by weight.
And not just “dead” weight, either. No useless blood like earlier models used. Critical functions had to be wired through the meat and gristle, forcing the engineers to take risks and make difficult choices.
One engineer went so far as to sacrifice his own brain for his creation.
He’s over there, on fire.
Should have used a monkey, poor soul.

Fisherman

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Cursing, Stavros pulled in the line and ran his fingers along the end.
As usual, it was a clean break.
The bottom of the lake was littered with Stavros’ hooks and various lengths of fishing line.
There were also some government-issue four-door sedans down there.
Every so often, another car would arrive. The driver would then get out, look around, take off his sunglasses, and ask lots of questions.
“Drunk drivers,” said Stavros, and nothing else.
Either they left or they didn’t.
Stavros tied another hook, baited it with a bloody chunk of civil servant flesh, and tossed it in.

Breakfast for breakfast

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Ethan loved strawberry pancakes.
But he never got up in time to make breakfast during the week. He’d just chug a glass of juice before running out the door.
But on the weekends, he’d take the time to mix the batter, toss in sliced strawberries, and make himself the pancakes he so dearly loved.
One day, he poured out the batter into the pan and didn’t see any strawberries in it.
He shrugged and tossed in more strawberry.
They sank into the batter, never to be seen again.
That’s when Ethan decided he liked shredded wheat cereal better.
Without strawberries.

Elevator To Heaven

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People ask me the secret of the Elevator To Heaven.
The secret is that it is no secret. Actually, you’ve probably been in it.
How? Well, nearly every elevator is an Elevator To Heaven.
Look, just step in the elevator and wait for the doors to close.
Then, touch the 8 button.
Push it in hard and rotate it a quarter-turn.
Then release the button.
See? You’ve got an infinity symbol now.
Just wait a minute, and the doors will open to Heaven’s Lobby.
Just be sure to stub out your cigarette. God hates smoke.
That’s why He made Hell.

Par Of Dice

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“God does not play dice with the universe,” said the old professor, “He plays dice with the Franelli Brothers in the alley.”
Joe, Luigi, God, and Tony were huddled around a pile of money, some beer bottles, a pizza box, and a pair of dice.
God picked them up. “Baby needs a new crown of thorns,” he muttered, and threw.
“Why do you let bad things happen to good people?” I asked.
“Because they don’t pay up,” said Joe.
Luigi laughed and looked at God. “Is we forgiven?”
“Yeah, yeah,” said God. “Pass the bones, Jack. I’m feeling lucky tonight!”

Chew Bubblegum

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“I came here to kick ass and chew bubblegum,” said the hero. “And I’m all out of bubblegum.”
The villain checked his pockets.
“I think I have some bubblegum,” he said.
“What?” asked the hero.
“I have some gum,” said the villain, holding out a pack. “Strawberry flavor?”
“I like strawberry,” said the hero.
The villain handed the hero a piece.
“Thank you,” said the hero, sticking it in his mouth. “That’s nice of you.”
He chewed it, blew a bubble, and fell over dead.
The villain laughed his best laugh, then stopped when he realized nobody could hear him.

Where Math Is Feared

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Every year, children who question the importance of mathematics are taken on a field trip to the math-challenged Duchy of East Rosemarch.
The town square only has three sides. No two streets are the same width. The currency constantly changes value, causing economic chaos. Felons are let out of jail at random times.
Most kids realize the simple lesson of the Duchy, but there’s always a few dim bulbs that find the experience enticing and captivating.
They usually end up living in the Duchy when they get older, joining the society of math-phobic fools in perpetual numerical and geometric madness.