Tag: sick

Wakeup Stories

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Most parents tell their kids bedtime stories, but Joe, he told his kids wakeup stories.
Happened every morning. First, they’d get themselves a good night’s sleep. Then, when the sun came up, they’d open their eyes, and they’d see their dad, sitting on the side of the bed and watching them.
“What story do you want to hear?” he’d ask, giggling like a maniac.
The kids tried setting their alarm clocks earlier, but Joe was right there, ready for them.
Pretty soon, the kids stopped sleeping at all.
So, you don’t like my bedtime stories, Susie?
Ohhhhhhh… okay.
Thought so.

Dancing Goddess

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When the Goddess begins to dance, people from all around will gather by the shore and watch her move in the tide with such grace and beauty.
They drop everything and sway in the evening mist.
Mothers let their babies slip from their grasp and fall into the surf.
Nobody notices the splashes. The Goddess laughs as each sacrifice is made.
Sometimes, after the dance, their bodies wash up on the shore, and there is much grief.
The Goddess has rejected the children.
But when the children wash out to sea, it is said they have become her royal consorts.

The Hive Queen

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Ambassador Grindmar’s report to the Hive Queen was positive: the negotiations were going well, and peace would come at an insignificant price, easily made up for with future mutual trade and growth.
“Where is that Grindmar now?” asked the Queen.
The bodyguards upended a preservation-cask, spilling Grindmar’s butchered carcass on the throne room floor.
“That’s unfortunate,” said the Queen. “But the negotiations completed, correct?”
“Yes,” said Grindmar’s replacement. “The war is over.”
“Good,” said the Hive Queen. “Let us Prepare a feast in Grindmar’s honor.”
That night, Grindmar was as delicious as she had been skilled in crafting peace treaties

Beautiful Teeth

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I have the most beautiful teeth.
White, smooth, and perfectly even.
They are marvelous and precise, a wonder to behold.
My gums, however, are disgusting.
Bloody and ragged, like a horrendously ugly frame around an exquisite work of art.
“How can this be?” I ask my dentist. “What kind of cruel joke is it to have such beautiful teeth held prisoner within this putrid mouth?”
This dentist is no different than the others. He has no answers.
I wish I were the Cheshire Cat.
I’d vanish from the world, along with my gums, leaving this most wondrous, precious, beautiful smile.

Vacuum

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Milton has one of those vacuums with the clear tube that sucks all the dirt into, and you can watch it spinning around like a tornado.
So, he throws things on the floor so he can vacuum them up.
Yesterday, he tried to do it with popcorn, but it got all jammed in the hoses.
The motor’s high-pitched whine caught his attention.
Milton tipped the vacuum over to clear out the jam, but he forgot to turn off the vacuum.
He watched in horror… and then fascination as his fingers rattled around the clear plastic tube in the vacuum cleaner.

Best Ideas

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I get my very best ideas in the bathroom.
You too?
Yeah.
So, I like to keep a notepad in there.
But today, I totally forgot a pen.
No, I wasn’t going to write anything using something… gross. Ewwwwww.
I tried to repeat my great idea over and over so I wouldn’t forget.
But Nardo came into the room, meowing for attention, so I pet him.
By the time I was done in there, I had forgotten my idea.
So, I put a box of pens in a drawer in the bathroom, took 5 Ex-Lax, hoping for inspiration to return.

For The Birds

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Ever sit down in a restaurant, and you hear people babbling in another language, and you just know it’s about you?
I’m that way with birds. I think among the chirps and tweets and caws and trills, they’re talking about me.
I grabbed a bird off of a clothesline and demanded to know what it was saying about me.
It kept cawing and scratching madly, so I asked it slower and louder.
That always works with people, right?
But no matter how hard you try, it doesn’t work with birds.
So, I threw it against a wall and walked home.

Punisher

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The Mystic Sisters have a good racket going.
One’s a punisher for hire, taking clients down into her dungeon and beating them within an inch of their lives.
A few days later, they see the fortune-teller sister, the one who read bruises instead of palms.
Sometimes, guys go into the dungeon but don’t go to the fortune-teller. Other times, they see the fortune-teller, but they got their bruises elsewhere.
And then, well, one day, the punisher limps into her sister’s house. She’s got two black eyes.
“Save the bullshit and just get me some ice,” she says.

The Belt

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Mother likes it when we come to dinner, especially when I bring the kids.
When dinner is over and Dad loosens his belt, I see something in Mom’s eyes.
She’s afraid.
Sometimes, she’d call me at the strangest times. Early. Late.
But when I ask her if anything is wrong, she doesn’t say a word.
What does Dad do with that belt that scares her?
I found out last week. Mom was in the kitchen, beaten to death. Dad was hanging in the basement from the belt he beat her with.
Thanksgiving will be at home this year, I guess.

Heartless

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The kidnappers sent Julius one of Edna’s toes, but he still had trouble rounding up the ransom.
Time was running out for Edna. The deadline was Valentine’s Day, and they”d threatened to cut out her heart.
I won’t bore you with the details, but things went sour.
What arrived at Julius’ doorstep on February 15th, wrapped in paper, was her stomach.
The kidnappers didn”t know much about anatomy.
“This means she”s still alive, right?” begged Julius.
The FBI agent looked at his partner.
They started to pack up their equipment and notified the office that it was homicide’s problem now.