So let me get this straight…
Jack ignores his mother, and he sells the cow for some magic beans.
She throws them out the window, and they grow into a gigantic beanstalk.
Then he goes up the beanstalk and lies to the giant’s wife, robs the giant blind, and then kills the giant?
The dude sounds like a dick to me. He broke into a guy’s home, robbed, and then murdered him!
But I’m not about to say anything bad about Jack.
Because that guy just might lie to my wife, rob me blind, and then kill me.
The kingdom awaited the arrival of a royal heir.
But three witches captured the queen and divided her up.
The witch with the legs gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. A prince.
The witch with the middle suckled him as the witch with the head sung him to sleep.
They killed the witch with the legs and shared them, trading at dawn.
When the boy could eat solid food, the witch with the head killed the witch with the middle, and took all the queen for herself.
The prince giggled happily as she carried him back to the kingdom.
Just as the Leprechaun guards his pot of gold from rainbow-chasers, the Leperchaun flees the people who follow his trail of rotted-off appendages.
Why people would follow a trail of bloody fingers… toes… or worse, I have no idea.
Sometimes, it’s the police, After that John Wayne Bobbit incident, anything’s possible, really.
The dogs sniff out a trail, which leads to the miserable creature, hunched over a pot of glue.
With antibiotics, he can be cured of the horrible affliction. But the disfigurement is permanent.
With prosthetics and a 3D printed half-mask, he’ll still look like a goddamned Irish midget.
Every year on Martin Luther King’s birthday, the reverend’s ghost wakes from his eternal dream.
He peers from his tomb, across the moat, and into the offices of The Center Of Nonviolent Change.
The dream. The dream where his children would be judged one day by the content of their character.
His daughter was talking to copyright attorneys, setting rates for the use of his legacy, and organizing the takedown notices and lawsuits for those who refused to pay royalties.
“I wished for so much more for you,” he whispered.
Then he settled back into his tomb for another year.
I always set my alarm clock before I go to sleep, and I always set the alarm clock on my phone as a backup.
Even though I set two alarms every morning, I wake up before them. But I still set those alarms, just in case I sleep late and need them.
It’s like circus acrobats and trapeze artists who use nets. If they are good, they don’t need or even want the net, but they have it there anyway.
So, I set the alarms, go to bed, and I dream of being a circus acrobat.
Without a goddamned net.
Soulstones are easy to use.
After a couple swallows a pair of soulstones and goes to sleep, they will wake up in each other’s bodies.
When you’re ready to switch back, wait for the stones to come out, wash them off, and swallow them again.
I don’t know how they work. I just know they work.
What’s it like?
It’s disorienting, seeing yourself standing in front of you.
“A deal’s a deal,” says Natalie, pushing her cock into my mouth.
Her mouth. My mouth.
Pronouns can be so confusing with soulstones.
But you adapt quickly.
“That’s nice,” says Natalie, smiling.
I spent the whole night on the beach with her.
Sat next to her and watched the tide come in.
She begged for me to dig her out of the sand, but there’s no way I’d do that.
So, I gagged her before she started screaming.
As each wave rolled in closer, she went from scared to angry to what I swear was forgiveness.
Like all the others.
Sometimes, I dig them out after they get a wave or two against their face.
But not this one. This one belongs to the Sea Gods.
“Yes,” they demand.
And I comply.
I was there when Superman said he would never fly again.
“I’m never going to fly again,” he said. “Ever.”
Then he took off his cape, tossed it in the trash, and walked to The Daily Planet.
“I QUIT!” he shouted.
It took them a few minutes to realize that he was Clark Kent.
Then he did a few interviews and speaking engagements for money. Even posed in Playgirl.
“Easy money,” he said. He thought about selling his services to the highest bidder, but he decided to stay retired.
“If you monkeys screw this planet, I’ll just fly to Mars.”
What was the name of the Wicked Witch?
The West one was the one played by Margaret Hamilton, right?
They dropped the house on her sister from the East.
Well, they never said the name of the one from the West.
But The Wicked Witch of the East was named Ding Dong.
All those midgets sang “Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead” right?
The witch down the street is named Olivia.
She turns kids into frogs.
Especially those who throw buckets of water at her, or use the garden hose.
I once set off her lawn sprinklers.
For centuries, The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse owned just one horse.
This arrangement worked out great for when there was just War or Death doing on, but sometimes there were two or three of them on that horse.
Or, when things were particularly bad, all four.
Not only was the load unbearable, but as civilization spread and got more complicated, they had a lot more ground to cover.
The lone horse didn’t particularly like that arrangement, so the gang got three more horses.
Nowadays, they each have several horses. And they’ve hired a full-time vet, trainer, and stable manager.