3 Folds
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s of men. The air stank with evil and the ground reeked of rotten seaweed and dying fish. Instinct warned me to match the growing fear inside with a casual, nonchalant air. I must -
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Mall in LA. Much as he did in his teens, he was now warming up to businesses that fill his wallet with steady income as much as they fill his belly with delicious, healthy foods.
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all I know, this asshole-ish attitude might be in my DNA, inherited from my great-grandfather who, according to family lore, was touring the US as part of a freak circus in 1856.
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solve quadratic equations with equanimity," I said to my book agent. I didn't tell her I also had a PhD in Theoretical Physics from Cambridge. With luck, the book deal could
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3
Having recently participated in a biomedical conference, Little Trotsky knew what his newly-acquired chameleon body was capable of. He was in no hurry. His prey could wait a few
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was no surprise. The demand was too foul, too childish, and very much like his father's. She decided to give him the Hook, like she did his dad, but slowly. She wanted him to last.
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He sold anywhere from 3 to 7 sandwiches a day. His minions were miffed. But they all knew that the road to hell is paved with disgruntled minions. Where Satan goes they must follow
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But for all his culinary talent, Chef Andre weren't making money. Between his ego and his appetite, the restaurant managed to hemorrhage staff as well as steak at an alarming rate.
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like rivers. He surveyed the scene. What began as a seemingly innocuous plan to redesign his ranch had evolved into madness. The frogs were now looking at him, their eyes the color
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this mess, wearing nothing but bamboo leaves. You will laugh. You will cry. And you will die. I will follow you to heaven and beyond. Now, take this bullet, and pray for you soul.
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For no reason, I decided then and there to become an eelmonger. The eel sold like hot cakes. Nobody understood why eel filet took off as it did and continues to sell so robustly.
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their long-awaited mission to Mars. For years, the chimps had been struggling with their divided loyalties to human, and here was an idea moment to unite and leave Earth forever.
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what the grammar nazis will think. They are scornful of people like her, ordinary people who are far more in tune with the popular mood. Revolution is in the air, I can smell.
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he wanted an apple pie. Granny Smith was famous for her green apples; less known was her psychic past. She knew, and the apple pie was her way of saying everything will be alright.
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I was making money hand over fist. A year later, I became a billionaire. Financially secure, I can no longer deny my yearning for revenge. I shall return my country to democracy!
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A 50% tip is admired. A 60% tip guarantees you a customer-of-the-week hallmark card. With your generous tip, the going concern letter on our restaurant's front door means nothing.
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But the KGB, which sees no problems with naked assassins, quibbled about how the podcast suggestively recounted their number-one spy's latest exploit. It wasn't a clean operation.
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the barrel and threw the barrel down the river. I looked to the sky and found no rainbow. No more water but the fire next time.
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But not in that order. Only after they were truly dead would she mate with their corpses. She shuddered. It was the only secure way to get that precious antibody and save humanity.
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wasn't a good guy, but what Lemmy lacked in moral fiber he made up for in gab. In 1945, my request for him to be my spiritual mentor was fobbed off. He knew how to turn me down.