Swine Flu

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The Big Bad Wolf didn’t care about this whole Swine Flu scare. He was hungry.
So he huffed, puffed, and coughed for about a minute.
A window opened in the straw house, and the first little pig laughed.
“Caught a bad case of the flu, wolf?” he asked.
The wolf grabbed at him, but his muscles were aching badly and he missed.
Two more pigs walked up behind the wolf.
One hit him in the leg with a piece of wood, and the wolf fell down, howling with pain.
The other pig hit him in the head with a brick.

Fishing

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I used to go fishing with my grandfather.
No, I didn’t go on a boat or a dock to dish.
Instead, we’d go to the aquarium after dark and fish in the really big tank.
Not only is the water clear, but there’s a lot of really cool fish in there.
Okay, so there’s some really dangerous things in there like sharks, but you can yank the line up when those get close.
Or so we thought.
Grampa lost a foot. Ouch.
Good news, though: they recovered the shoe out of the shark’s stomach.
As if he needed it anymore.

Witness

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I’m a professional witness.
The wilder the thing you want me to witness, the more it’ll cost you.
Same goes with how far I need to go back into history to witness it.
Some scientists did the math and figured out that building superconducting supercolliders was far too expensive for particle research.
So, they’re paying me to witness the Big Bang.
I go back tomorrow and come back Friday.
They paid me only half in advance, just in case I’d be tempted to stay.
Of course I’ll come back. My cat and plants won’t feed themselves.
Sitters? Too damn expensive.

Fiddle Faddle

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I admit it. I’m addicted to Fiddle Faddle.
I love the stuff. It’s so much better than Chex Mix.
Some people will eat any snack, but I refuse to eat anything but Fiddle Faddle for a snack.
Once, on April Fools, my friends told me they weren’t going to make Fiddle Faddle anymore.
Oh no! What would I snack on?
That night, one of my friends turned out to be a vampire and he bit me on the neck, turning me into a vampire.
Since then, I’ve just had blood.
I’ll live forever, but without Fiddle Faddle?
Stake me now.

Fresh Thursday

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What do you mean you’re having a bad Thursday?
Thursdays don’t spoil.
I pick my Thursdays fresh from the vine and gently place them in the basket.
So ripe and delicious they are, I can hardly believe they’re gone by Friday.
I wake up, rub the Thursday from my eyes.
Oh, why can’t every day be a fresh Thursday, picked from the vine?
Mondays… Wednesdays… not for me.
This man in the alley offered me Thursday pills. Ground up from dried Thursdays.
No. Fresh Thursdays or nothing! I deserve the best!
Today, my friend, I take a long, slow bite!

Shoelaces

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Damn. I broke a shoelace.
So let’s go out to the woods and look for a replacement.
They drop from the tree branches and slither on the ground, looking for a spot to burrow a hole.
You catch a few, check their sizes and colors, and then hope to find just the right one.
Grab each end and pull tightly to snap their spines.
That’s how a shoelaces go all soft and limp.
Nobody wants a living, writhing shoelace in their shoe.
Don’t try to keep one as a pet. They just sit there in the bottle and wither away.

Training

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Instead of getting laid off, we’re being repurposed.
Today’s training session is for turning us into plants.
The trainer goes from seat to seat, jabbing us in the foot with a nutrient spike and then tipping a watering can over our heads.
One guy is being prepared for lawn duty, so they’re dowsing him with a hose outside.
Unlucky bastard.
I don’t like getting hosed down on a regular basis, but it’s a good promotion from what they had me doing before.
You can only take so much shit heaped on you, even if you’re supposed to be a mushroom.

The Talking Kid

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We love our kid.
How can we not? He’s our kid.
One disappointment with him, though. Our boy didn’t start talking until he was four.
But when he started, he just couldn’t shut up.
He talks all the time.
During meals.
In the bath.
In the preschool.
And even in his sleep.
Some of it makes sense, but the vast majority of what comes from his mouth is nonsensical babble.
So, we give him gum to chew. When he chews gum, he can’t talk.
He blows bubbles now. Popping all the time.
But it’s not as annoying as the babble.

Migration

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Watch the spaghetti for me.
Don’t let it overcook. And don’t let it escape.
Remember the last time the spaghetti got loose? It took an entire legion of the Baron’s soldiers to subdue and drive back to the kitchen.
If it hadn’t been so delicious, both of us would have lost our heads.
They say that spaghetti is supposed to be easy, but when you forget to salt the water, all kinds of curses and maliciousness gets into the pasta.
The meatballs are screaming again?
Best not to serve them at all. We’ll use olive oil and pepper this time.

Curses

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The Great Mage, The Master of Kraken, taught me that all curses should be removed in reverse order as they were inflicted on the victim as to not cause harmful effects as they are unbound and dispelled.
Like turning the pages of a book. Auras overlap, but a good wizard can carefully determine the proper procedure in less than a day.
Never rush a job because someone’s dying from their afflictions. That can be delayed or cured, too.
With that in mind, where is this werewolf with the Midas Touch that’s been turned to stone?
I love a good challenge.