Finished Folds (141—160)
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9ceased. Had Max & Emus expired? Or had they plotted something? A spotlight spread my shadow across the tombstones, and I dropped the spade. "All right, gravedigger," said Detective
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1Special K. Hank Moody showed up out of nowhere bearing a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue. He held it towards me, pointing his finger. "You need an intervention, bro." His definition
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2death was imminent. I had lost too much blood, been too ambitious in writing my memoirs in my own vital fluid. My vision faded as I re-read the last line; damn, it was a good one.
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4as Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane's colitis was acting up. "Roscoe," screamed Boss Hogg, "not now!" Jesse, Bo, Luke, and Daisy narrowly escaped the explosion. Now that Hogg was dead,
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2Hunter Thompson must have felt on psilocybin and adrenachrome. Now, I see worms everywhere: in my lover's hair, at farmer's market, in weblog posts, inside my own eyeballs...
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1irrigate, floss, and brush; this may be my last night, but it may not. Assassins are not always successful. I check the bolt lock for the seventh time before opening my Bible to
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3FoldingChat was a debacle from the get-go. Meant to connect the folding community, it instead led to the abandonment of its parent site. The first murder occurred within a week of
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3molecular acid. Having a zombified xenomorph for a mother-in-law has its advantages, particularly in academia. The students froze, and I called her off. Replacing my head atop my
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3since I could buy booze and roll quarters off my rack like nobody's business. And drinking and rolling -- that's how you make it up the corporate ladder these days." The interview
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0Charlton Heston was on his knees, looking towards a monument which wasn't actually there. "Damn you!" he screamed, pounding the lawn. A confused woman sat on his motorcycle, gaping
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5employ profanity. Can't you say 'heck', instead?" Sierra glared at her roommate, purpled, and unleashed an obscene barrage the likes that her roommate had never imagined possible.
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7natee, who was in a mean mood. "All right you two," he shouted through his bullhorn, "dolphin hijacking is a felony offense! I've got a nasty hangover, so no lip. Now wade over to
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6The Unknown Comic made a drumming gesture as Arte Shaw reached for the mallet, but Shaw stopped short of striking the gong when he noticed Chuck Barris spraying starter fluid onto
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3horrified disbelief. "You're insane," he declared. "Vinyl died in 1987. You're living in the past! There is no way I am delivering this baby." The doctor stormed out, leaving the
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4in the intensifying wind. A Cat 5 hurricane had formed out of nowhere and now threatened Pedro's disillusioned herd. The rain pummeled his screaming followers as they trampled over
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0m of Misdirection (aka the Senate) on their hands and knees feeling for notches in the floor. Colin Powell, having just testified, approached them smiling. He held out an Ambien,
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4who were supposedly under the auspices of a major Latin American drug cartel. Narcotics were being stowed in realistic, motorized stoats which would race north across the Texas
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6But they soon pick up on the system: lie, rape, steal, kill. Pretty it all up in grandiose philosophy and political theory. Piece o' cake. The result: RESERVATION CASINOS.
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2When Tut arrived, the brothers embraced and proceeded through a lengthy hand jive routine. Then Buddy Tut frowned. "I'm in a rut, Tut. We're behind on the contract. I need you to
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2for the moment, soon to be a hobbled seraph prison bride. What Jehovah granted in flight, he took away in fighting ability. After a number of divorce/remarriage cycles, I had grown