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"It's a cue stick." The teacher glared. "No! The stick is just an indicator. This, children, is what they call a blackboard, a relic from the horrific pre-internet days of teaching
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messed up the flip due to the banana peel on the ground. Matt Messenger was fine but his bike was stuck in the window of the ambulance. He was just happy to be okay until
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There were 800 million people on earth who somehow evaded tracking. Natural Intelligence took a special interest in those after it tired of the little ant farm of the 7 billion. NI
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Blasted was so accustomed to imprisonment in towers that he continued to live in them during his bouts of freedom. Was he insane, a political prisoner, an inconvenient heir? He had
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Time passed and opportunities came and went as vengeance simmered in my gut. For a time, croissants went out of style and I had to invest in their renaissance to carry out my plan.
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100 zombies, in unison stand, raise your hand, salute, at ease, sit down, relax. Relax & wait…wait some more. Lots of men and only a few women. Iron-fisted Reds; a few Blue Libs.
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"You've got some 'splaining to do!" "Oh Ricky..." I began, as forlornedly as possible, "I didn't mean to slaughter your entire band, it's just that I wanted a chance to be in your
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is the lonliest letter you could ever do. X can be as naughty as that, it's the naughtiest letter since the w... Yeah... Y is the most questionable experience you'll ever have...
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He leaned over her; his blend of senatorial perspiration and Old Spice fanned her enough to cause a sneeze, [not a huge one filled with saliva and food particles], a tiny sneeze.
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right. I did. I slept with your ancient mother too!” While he was down, I poked him in the eye; I bit off his ear, spluttering blood and bawling, “I’ve slept with everyone ancient
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“All right, story’s over; lights out, goodnight.” Before the father could shut the book and the light, a falsetto voice spoke up, “I can’t sleep not knowing humanity’s fate.”
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It was raining on and off. The electricity was barely audible. He was confounded that Walter would carry his pistol inside his bowling ball bag. That was not good for either.
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— I mean barrooms floors — to get to know Kim better. She intimidated him, even making him stutter in his thoughts. But then, she
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witness Ian Anderson striding out of a giant bowl of coddled ostrich eggs, roaring, “Lets bungle in the jungle,” and then playing psychedelic flute solos only understood by Batman.
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something he had done in life, so why not now, in death? "What are you selling out of the cavity of my friend's corpse?" I asked the termite. "I have some human jerky here that
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"How can you possibly guard my spirit when you haven't one of your own?" I asked the coach bot. "Simple," it replied, "I am not distracted by a soul of my own." I drank the thick
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For a battery-operated lawn mower to 1) cut evenly across lofty, dense grass. 2) propel itself forward across bumpy, mountainous landscape. 3) operate silently & economically,
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"Well," said Mother from the bathroom doorway. "So much for the six potty stations I bought for the other rooms in our house. Little boy can't run as fast as us, right?" The Father
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Is it just me, or is FoldingStory better written than SNL?
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"You need money? Let me print you up some." Nadja served me some herbal tea in a clean mason jar while I waited. "Capitalism makes liars and prostitutes of us all. Look at me!" she