If you fold this story, can I fold yours?

If I don't wake up on time,

If you're reading this, there's still time. Just the fact that you haven't yet lost your sight means that they won't reach you for a few more minutes. You have time to prepare

"Here lies the body of Edward Shakooftuplenetzer. His last name was too strange and such a hassle to spell, the people killed him so they didn't have to put up with this nonsense"

A prisoner in a chicken suit? Silicon.

why am i here

I saw what I did that morning at the diner had caused a ripple that came back to hit me just now by her slamming the door in my face. "It was only a cup of coffee".

I've been staying up until one a.m, and that's only when I head upstairs, I usually don't fall asleep until much later. There's this anxious feeling. I dunno.

I have too many skeletons and not enough space to keep them.

She was a tiny dancer with awesome magical powers to

Spam Baby wanted a Creamsicle, but nobody in this dimension had ever heard of one.

"F#@& me running!!" she said, after the rat trap snapped on the big joint of her left thumb. "'Rat traps won't maim' my ass!!"

Jess' was riding shotgun with the Black Betty headed for Sugarland with a fresh chaingang. He took a swig from his hip flask. "Gimme' that" said Harly keeping one hand on the reins

With consummate ease he put the lime in the coconut. Across the room, his rival had just succeeded in putting the bomp in the bomp-bah-bomp-bah-shomp. Meanwhile, in Rio, the

Amanda Widdershins looked around the sitting room with a bruised heart. The old farmhouse was presentable enough. The gloom in the northwest corner might even be a selling point.

"Would you like Snakes on a Plane?" "I would not like them on a Plane." "Would you like Snakes on a Train?" "I would not like Snakes on a Plane. I would not like them in a Train.

There once was a man from Nantucket

I sheathed myself in the garments fitting my caste and then I went to work just as I'd done every day since my extrusion. My task was unsavory, but I was congealed for this purpose

Varla Du Gong lay seductively in a puddle of seawater upon the baby grand. Detective Manatee flicked the smoldering butt of his cigarette into the ashtray, adjusted his fedora,

Paul McCartney adjusted his shirt and smoothed back his hair. This was it. It had finally happened. He'd always wanted to work in a drugstore and now he was a cashier at CVS