west, in the direction Sky Lord was last seen. Agent Macklin drove through sparse desert, lush farmlands and ancient rainforest, but to no avail. The villainous Sky Lord was gone.

that dancing and singing are inborn talents, not taught, and any fool who assumes the mantle of teacher is only ever the student. The cat found this troubling and started awake

the eye socket of a dead pirate that was climbing up the side of the ship below him. He gulped and restacked the remaining donut, straightened his kit & stepped into the madness.

N The Tears is blasting from under the aqueduct where several Romani men were parked in a circle. Whomever it was that just whistled made the Romanis look around and they saw me.

to be, once again, more than he was the last time. But somehow the singing sunflower got into his circuitry and into his sinews and visceral and sang inside him. The most sublime

Everywhere he went, folks yanked their curtains and screamed at his PSYCHO scent. He would often lift his nose up from the ground and tell them it was pronounced SY-CO not SY-CHO!

The Minotaurs were now rampaging the streets, chasing human women and corralling human men. The kids they left. They were too small for manual labor. Satan laughed God had out done

-se favorite musician was Prince, until he croaked. The sexy man-eater cried for weeks when I told her. She'd had her heart set on kissing him and turning him back into a frog.

my crotch. "Yeah, I got yer club right here," I said, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have kitchen pipes to destroy and a fortune to make." The performers fell silent as I marched to

the little girl on the bike ran into me. I watched in slow motion as she tumbled through the air, her braces glinting and her braids moving like tentacles. She landed on a wino who

don't like salt understandably, and meth thorta looks like it. "Could that be the ansther? Now I'm lithping, too." I stared at the slug's rug. I wanted to sniff it for some reason.

the ghost of Harry Nilsson, Oscar the Grouch (who had accidentally dropped acid and could now think outside the trash can), Lady Elaine (AWOL from the neighborhood of make-believe)

but would not cry out from the testicular pain. "Pink (snap) is not your color," he grinned, snapping the bottom of her bikini top...gasp...a fist-sized wad of tissue fell to the

why Marnie Fluggle (no relation to Barney Google), with the goo-goo-googly eyes, was merely referred to as Google, and was more of an expert on any and every subject than Fluffy,

forms at the bank and deposited the money to my new account. When I then tried to buy airline tickets out of town I was told that the money had not yet cleared. I was in a bind!

sharpened their poop-chute pokers in anticipation of Drumpf's arrival in Heck, but his bus arrived there without him. In his place was a duck with a wad of gum stuck to his head.

from his lips. "...and after that," Jeb continued," he goes into a subdued coughing fit that goes on and on. So where do I get the address of this parrot's previous owner?"

Was the title of the space alien's book. This wasn't like that Twilight Zone episode, "To Serve Man." "To Kill Earth Itself" is unequivocal: to kill dirt. Dirt isn't alive anyway.

The Bruno Mars pun fell as flat as my grandma's failed souffle on that one bright, sunny day in 1964. It was one of those days you never forget, but you can't bring yourself to

tailfeathers. The flames died but somehow they kept burning with an invisible fire. "Hey, will you look at that. I must be part phoenix", said the bird, fresh from the oven. "I thi