Tag: sick

Free Samples

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This woman in a chef’s apron was giving out free samples of little sausages in the grocery store.
They were delicious.
“Try the dipping sauce,” said the woman.
And, you know what? They were even better!
I wanted more, so I asked her what brand they were and she said “Oh, they’re toes I collect at the morgue.”
That’s when I noticed the blood on her apron… and on her hands… and in her hair.
I had hardly noticed the little toenails as I chewed the “sausages.”
She grinned, holding the platter up higher.
“So, what dipping sauce is this?”

Judge

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The judge’s instructions started off simple, but after three hours the jury was utterly confused.
Some of the things the judge asked for them to do weren’t just illegal but downright impossible.
The foreman stood up and tried to interrupt the judge, but the judge didn’t pay him any heed and kept rambling on, getting weirder by the minute.
The foreman looked to the bailiff. The bailiff, having heard this for the better part of a decade, just shrugged and went back to staring blankly.
The stump of his left wrist was a constant, painful reminder not to get involved.

Platform

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We were standing on the platform, waiting for the subway.
A lot of people were.
She fell on the tracks right before the train came.
“Oh my God!” someone shouted.
But God didn’t save her.
An off-duty cop came forward. He said he’d been bumped from behind, and he knocked her on to the tracks.
They never found the guy who bumped him from behind.
Because there wasn’t anyone to find.
The cop went on extended leave. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
He didn’t spend the money all at once.
“Don’t be conspicuous,” I said. “And we’ll get away with murder.”

Flowers For A Stranger

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I don’t know why I was in the cemetery at midnight, wandering around with flowers in my hand.
I don’t know any dead people.
None I’d bring flowers for, anyway.
So, I put the flowers on a headstone, said a quick prayer, and went home.
Next day, I read in the paper that there were two murders at the graveyard.
Two old men shot each other after seeing flowers on the grave. Each suspected the other of having an affair with the woman they agreed never to steal from the other.
Even in death.
Isn’t jealousy and petty rivalry wonderful?

For My Girls

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Remember when bums used to hold up those WILL WORK FOR FOOD signs?
Bums never did want to work. Now, they just bless you and shit like that.
At least they’re honest now.
Back when they’d work for food, I took my daughter Jenny to get an abortion from one of them. Mman, did that bum work cheap.
Sure, Jenny lost her uterus, but at least she got scraped clean.
Her little sister Suzie, got knocked up but no roadside bum abortionists for her.
We’ll just head to a back alley in Mexico.
Nothing but the best for my girls.

Repeater

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Billy The Repeater is in the neighborhood, repeating everything that everyone says.
It used to be cute how he did it, but it’s gotten really annoying.
I can tell Billy is exhausted, too. The strain on his face as he mimics everything I say shows his exhaustion.
We tried to cut his tongue out, but now he mumbles and slurs everything.
That’s not so great, especially when I really need Billy to repeat something I can’t remember saying, but Billy remembers.
“What did I say, Billy?” I ask.
“Whafff di Ah sehhhhh Buhhhhhheeeee,” he mumbles.
As I said, really annoying.

Nailbiter

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Ned couldn’t remember a day he didn’t bite his fingernails.
The tips of his fingers were always ragged, bloody, and infected.
So he stuck his hands in a pair of gloves and duct-taped them shut to keep from biting them.
Or, so he thought.
By the time he bit through the leather in the gloves, his fingertips had healed and the urge to bite his nails was out of his system.
Of course, he’d ruined his teeth in the process, but Ned never really smiled, anyway.
Besides, it’s so much easier to type a colon and a closing parenthesis.

Bobby

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Bobby died three days ago. We kept him the the tub, trying to decide how to get him out of here.
Man, did he stink.
We opened all the windows, but the stink just got worse.
“Let’s leave him,” I said. “Let’s leave him.”
Joe said no. “He’s got the key inside him.”
Without the key, no money.
So, we cut him open, slipping our hands all inside him, pulling things out, squeezing and searching.
Still no key.
Did he really swallow it before we shot him in the leg? Or did he palm it…
Where did that key go?

Finished

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We went to the hospital to visit Grandma.
She wanted to say goodbye to the kids, so we brought them along.
They were scared at first, but Grandma told them life was a long, marvelous journey. You meet so many amazing people while you take it, and she told the kids they were the two most amazing ones she’d known.
But that journey, as wonderful as it is, doesn’t last forever. When God decides you’ve earned your rest, well, it’s time to stop.
“Then God tells you to shit yourself,” said a guy mopping the hallway.
No, that didn’t help.

Kids Are Stupid

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I remember the kids in the schoolyard telling each other that if you toss a penny off of the Empire State Building, it could kill someone.
Kids are stupid.
You’ve got to drop a roll of pennies to take someone out.
I’d repeat the experiment, but I dropped my binoculars, so I can’t see if I’m hitting anyone or not.
Maybe they’ll tell me at the trial. If they take me alive, that is.
Looking down, I think the binoculars killed someone down there, too.
I wish I’d brought a parachute. Jumping from here would be cool.
I’ll jump anyway.