Crowded around the flickering television, they watched in rapt anticipation. Desire swelled in their chests; hope waxed and waned with every advancement of the ball.
Now, victory was at hand.
Now, all was lost.
Minutes remained; then Hooray! It was over!
The home team had lost; let the rioting begin!
The heifer chewed her cud. It was thicker than yesterday’s. Oh, what was that? There was something crunchy in her mouth. Cud wasn’t supposed to crunch. Had she eaten something unusual this afternoon? The heifer couldn’t remember.
In the farm house, George softly rubbed his bandaged stump, already plotting revenge.
“Harold, there’s a gorilla in the walk-in closet!”
“I find that highly unlikely!” said Harold.
“It’s a silverback! It’s grabbing my hair!”
“Don’t tell fibs!” said Harold.
“Ow, my arm! It’s hitting me!”
“Oh wait,” said Harold. He grabbed a dart gun. “Sorry, I was reading the insurance policy wrong.”
After disarming the bomb in the locomotive’s engine, Evan Edgelow fought his way to the caboose, where the hostages were. He cut the car loose and began loading people into the bus.
“Where’s my kitty?” cried a distraught child.
Evan reached inside his jacket. “Right here,” he said.
Everyone cheered.
Flashing lights seared his eyes; sirens blared in his ears; acrid odours assailed his nostrils.
There was a pressure on his chest, a rhythmic, thumping, crushing pressure. Something popped. A flood of warmth rushed through his body. His chest expanded and contracted spasmodically. He was dizzy.
He retched.
He lived.
Twelve days had passed since my enemies’ arrival, each day spent cowering in fear under a mossy overhang as projectiles exploded left and right. Brokenness and waste were all around me.
Today, I would fight back. I felt my weapon’s comforting heft, stepped out, and soaked my cousin so bad.
Wind rushed past his face.
There was an itchy spot on the back of his neck. He scratched at it absentmindedly.
Meanwhile, there was an itchy spot on his elbow. He scratched at it absentmindedly.
Meanwhile, there was an itchy spot on his back, underneath his parachute.
Oh yeah. Parachute.
Time passes slowly in a vacuum. Everything is still and silent. You are surrounded by nothingness. It is, unsurprisingly, difficult to breathe.
Boredom, depression, hunger, and asphyxiation vie for power over you, fighting to see which will kill you first.
One should avoid living in a vacuum. Hoovers especially suck.
The cow jumped over the moon.
The rabbit, which had a raging teenager-style crush on the cow, tried to follow. Unfortunately, the rabbit overshot its target and jumped over the sun instead.
They both landed in the ocean. Neither one survived. It was horribly depressing.
“It’s too late, Joe. I give up.”
“Come on, Terry, we still have to try!”
“I can’t. It’s over.”
“Well I’m not giving up so easily.”
“Then you’re on your own, buddy.”
“Fine! I’ll eat the rest of this chocolate cake if I have to suck it through a straw!”