Finished Folds (221—240)
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6limbs but only found the five. Wait, five? That didn't sound right. I checked again. The count was correct. This man whom I had gravely injured with onion rings
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6keeping in rhythm with the salsa music playing over the loudspeaker. His pants began to deflate slowly revealing a swirling black hole where a crotch should have been. His straw ha
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6-printed in the consciousness of every survivor in this wasteland. We've all lost someone. And we're all just trying to trudge on. I lowered my rifle previously trained on the zomb
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5-merus was a little long for his liking though so he swiped left on his desktop knocking over a cup of pencils and paper clips in the process. Next up was a satyr whose interests
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4crumbled and gone and as Mr. Slurg was the one in charge of the whole shabang, it was his head on the chopping block. He had planned to kill himself but now Somebody was here.
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6drawing blood, sweat and tears. He became a pariah. The wolf pack jettisoned him to the streets where he now lives under the pseudonym "Trashcan Tim."
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5through the portal and immediately it began dissolving until there was nothing left except some stray arm hair wafting on the otherworldly wind. Wincing he took a peek at his stump
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4Later that week, God called the Archangel Gabriel into his office. "Gabriel," God boomed, "we've been getting a lot of complaints that you are dropping people when you fly out the
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8And he had a lot of them. And he would leave them out in odd places so that his houseguests would encounter and inquire about them. And then he would drone on and on about
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5ove into Det. Manatee's 36 oz cup of new coke and shuddered at the thought of the blunder which of course they had just gotten word of. Oh what a blunder it was! Oh to be
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3the Knights of Columbus meeting room where mere hours earlier a rousing game of Bingo was taking place. "Or is it Benedict?" he proved though the shadowy figure remained silent.
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4the dummy's head slowly turned to face him. That toothless grin. Those arched eyebrows. Wearing his threadbare plaid suit that smelled of whiskey and the broken dreams of an era
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3"I'll take my response off air," the caller said with a click. Flopsweat began to pour down Larry Devine's angular face. He had no retort for the diatribe he was just audience to.
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9my partner, Tad Worthington and I were examining the scene of the crime. There was a miniscule spot of blood splatter along the wall where the potato bug had met his demise.
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5It was a slow news day. The station chief glowered at his bullpen. "We had to go with the flying, clawing tooth story you idiots," he bellowed. "You mean to tell me nothing else
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4his crumpled kerchief still contained a severed human ear but these were 1st world problems. Dr. Sreventee was well aware all it would take to assure his freedom was
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4It was an unsettling conversation. Whenever he tried to politely excuse himself the man would just hold on to him tighter. Soon he was going on about Mary Todd Lincoln's penchant f
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2opening of their borders immediately. Within weeks, the first McDonald's appeared on their ancient streets followed closely by a Sbarros and an Olive Garden. Pretty soon their coun
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7to allow for maximum growth. Something you continue to neglect! That is why, my precious flower, I must leave you. You need a different light, one that can do things for you i neve
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5t his spirit lived on in our chum bucket constantly offering navigation advice and cracking jokes at the expense of Mariana Trench. It was as if he had never died.