“Yaarr! Where’s me rum?!” cried Captain Chubbeard.
He looked in his hammock. He looked on the poopdeck. He looked in the treasure chests. He looked behind the bulkheads.
His rum could not be found.
He asked Mister Scurvey, who said, “I think you drunk it, Cap’n!”
And so he had.
His face was covered in bumblebees.
“Lookit me!” he shouted. One of the bees crawled into his nasal passage. “I’m gonna be the first human honeycomb!”
I shook my head. He was really stupid sometimes. “It won’t work,” I told him. “You aren’t hollow.”
We solved that problem easily enough.
“This is a massive, worthless pile of junk.”
“Don’t call my priceless rare collectibles ‘junk’!”
“They’re only ‘priceless’ because no rational-minded, intelligent person would ever agree to pay money for them.”
“Hey! I paid money for them!”
“And you’re incredibly, unbelievably stupid. Thank you for making my point for me.”
The C-12 Huron transport plane climbed, climbed, climbed, then evened out.
“This is crazy. Why are we doing this?” said Rick.
“Research, man, research. Science and stuff.”
The nervous elephants trumpeted and stomped in place.
Rick shook his head. “We ain’t in no Disney movie!”
“That’s why they’re wearing parachutes.”
For this story, I asked my family to suggest two nouns and a verb. My father suggested elephant, parachute, and stomp.
“Isn’t this dress just delicious?” Kelly enthused, twirling in front of the mirror.
“We come here so often,” said Ken. “Don’t you have enough clothes?”
“You don’t know a thing about women, do you?” said Kelly.
“Shopping bites,” said Ken. “I’m going home.”
She made him leave his credit card.
Editor’s Note: This story was based on a call on Twitter for an adjective, a verb, and an adverb. @CasperMcFadden responded with delicious, bites, and often.
The white rectangle was definitely “Milk”, and the banana-shaped scribble must be “Moon”, but the pink tangle of crayon squiggles rang no bells in Amanda’s head. At stake was Katie’s fragile artistic confidence.
“It’s a brain,” said Katie.
“Oh honey, I thought they all started with ‘M’-”
“Mom, it’s ‘Magination’!”
This Guest Writer story was written by Drew Mokris. You can see more of Drew’s work at www.LeftHandedToons.com, a very clever and very funny webcomic where he and co-founder Justin draw every strip with their “wrong” hand. Drew is also a flash animator; many of his flash cartoons can be soon on his personal website, www.SpinnerDisc.com.
“Oh yeah? Well your mama’s so fat she got hired by the fire department so people could fall out of burning apartment buildings and land on her without getting hurt! And she likes it!”
His friends hooted. “Solid comeback, mang!”
I folded my arms and sniffed derisively. “Your mama was so fat she died.”
Editor’s Note: This story was based on a call on Twitter for an adjective, a verb, and an adverb. @davefp responded with solid, fall, and derisively.
“I need a bandaid.”
“Why?”
“Because I have a cut on my finger.”
“Why?”
“Because my knife slipped.”
“Why?”
“Because I had slippery fingers.”
“Why?”
“Because I spilled salad dressing on my hands.”
“Why?”
“Because… Never mind; I’ll get the bandaid myself.”
He made a mental note: fix the ButlerBot.
She crept from alcove to alcove, timing her movements against the motion of the cameras. Down the hallway, around the corner…
“Stop!” someone yelled. “Cut! Do it again! Honey, baby, we’re makin’ a movie here. The cameras have to see ya! Yeesh, whose idea was it to hire an ex-spy?”
“Here’s a neat trick,” he said.
He opened his mouth, real wide. He inserted his hand, then his arm, down his throat. His shoulder dislocated to go farther down. He stopped. Then his arm came back up, and he pulled himself inside out.
“What do you think?”
“You’re still ugly.”