I feel guilty because I have a conscience, but my conscience also says I did the right thing. Every time I think about what I did I feel like I'm moving through solid air. When I look at the problem, I'm looking through solid air. I did the right thing but I'm guilty too. I invented the soquid. Now I was sensing potential solids everywhere. "Solid, huh? That would be nice," my wife barbed. I cut the tense air with a knife and spread it on my toast. Tense air, it turned out, was a disappointment on rye. As my wife vacuumed the sink, I pondered the industrial applications of "soquids". Mobile devices? Probably not. Construction Of the 75 story hidden city under our sink had begun. Worker ants had infiltrated the staff of the builders, allowing inferior quality materials to be used, saving millions of microdollops but undermining the under the sink communities's foundations. For their safety, we had to relocate the whole city to the dumpster out behind the crime scene. This worked out fine for everyone until trash pickup day (last Thursday) when the entire city was taken to the municipal landfill. "What a dump!" the mayor exclaimed, as he pulled down his Jockeys to reveal his JZ69 Pocket Rocket/combination fishing rod, ring-toss hoop, & riot baton, exclaiming, “Everything I own came from this municipal landfill. As Mayor, I have prime access to Draper, WI's secret cache of illegal Montreal fireworks!" With this, Mayor Harold could conquer Sawyer County and that snooty mayor of Ojibwa. Victory was all but assured until Ojibwa's mutant weevils appeared on the horizon marching in rank and file steadily forward. The massacre was quick and severe, no survivors.



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