tomato sauce, in my opinion." Cecil pulled a squeeze packet of sauce from his jacket pocket, tore off the corner and splattered it across the plate of brains. The red, slimy meal

A broken heart was hiding on the sun one night when she realized the rent was due. What would the broken heart do? It was at that moment that a stray thought strayed into her mind.

I hear the voices every time I breathe. I hear the voices every time that I don't listen to them. Sometimes, I pretend that I"m one of the voices to see how many of them I can fool

The words are elusive tonight. They seem to have a different timbre when I do encounter them. They don't think nirvana is nirvana anymore. I can see what they mean but that doesn't

like that of a giraffe. It was unusually long, an odd addition onto his unusually short body. "Who do you think?" he responds with a thick Jersey accent. I turn to him

Why do her chuckles sound sardonically dark, yet, when you see her in repose, she leaves you with delight—even if only for simply on a lark—she’s white and tight and more than all

the makers of 'Little Friskies' for making me strong enough to escape your Vulcan death-grip," Scruffy said to her as he floated above her head. But then his three eyes were distra

But before the bartender could squeeze a drop from the blood red bottle, the poor devil had dropped "The Devil's Drop" and it crashed to pieces. We watched in horror as a terrible

ed her and then dunked her into his recycling bin... Thus was born his signature move: "The Telemarketer Toss". The local Telemarketer Mafia got whiff of his escapades and decided

the old man from scene 24 pulled himself put of the chasm. "Wait!" he gasped. "You need to answer three questions to cross the Bridge of Death." he wheezed. But... I had already

, to get along without messing each other up too much, to protect our Earth, to nurture those less fortunate, to love. What ever became of those goals? Why are they so mocked, now?

-thoscope and stared hard at the wax-winged creature. Icarus just shrugged his shoulders. "Because I like Santa Claus," he mumbled. The elves in the workshop next door had begun

What if you could choose your parents—choose your place of birth—choose your social standing in life, and your skin color? What if you could pick your mood and moral focus before

something propelled by antigravity.I felt my hairs stand on end as it shot up impossibly fast disappearing into the clouds.It was only then we realized Jimmy was missing. He return

just when I was about to chart our new destination. He brushed the ink off into my lap. A Zizzilat (combo waiter/bouncer/disintegrator) appeared and asked if we wanted crayons.

After that Belgian upstart from the future published Amazing Stories in 1926, the grand yet petty barons of the times who sought to rule the world decided to crash the economy to

If you want results that you can live with...if you want to feel pride and accomplishment...if you want to be able to look back and exude honor, happiness, and success. Call me at

Without sounding totally ludicrous...oh, hell...(who am I trying to kid?)...there truly are only a handful of intellects without manners left roaming across the planet, and I'm one

McChrist. Sepulchra died doing what she loved: eviscerating her torso and performing surgery on her own body. The Groots have set up the Sepulchra McChrist Foundation in her memory

There is another world, but it’s in this one. The world is not what it seems—but it isn’t anything else, either.