“What portion of his schooling is your young son attending, Holmes?
“How would you describe hydrogen, oxygen, and carbon, Holmes?
“What do you call it when men shaped liked the letter preceding ‘M’ linger after an event, Holmes?”
After many years, Watson had grown very tired of Sherlock Holmes’ catchphrase.
This story is based on a title suggested by Matthew Ryper via Facebook.
“Grapplin’ hooks, skeleton keys, guard uniforms… I got everythin’ you need, man.”
“You charge a lot, Skivvy.”
“It ain’t easy to get stuff like this into my cell.”
“True dat.”
“But let me tell you, gettin’ nabbed for murder’s the most profitable thing I ever done. I’m makin’ a killing!”
Rudolf hopped on one foot, pirouetted, leapt to and fro, wiggled his hips, do-si-doed, executed a graceful plie, moonwalked, discoed, waltzed, two-stepped, wriggled like a worm, jigged like a hillbilly, and slapped his knees, but no matter what he did, it kept snowing.
Apparently he wasn’t a raindeer after all.
She was surprised by how well her product was selling. She had expected to get support from the feminist crowd, perhaps some attention in the local media, but instead she saw significant, straightforward financial success.
What the creator of Deter-Gent man-repelling laundry soap hadn’t anticipated were all the male purchasers.
“Stop biting your nails!” said Mom.
“Sorry,” mumbled Jackson.
“You’re still doing it!” said Mom.
“Whoops,” mumbled Jackson.
“Honestly, child, you’re hopeless! Am I going to have to take your nails away and put them back in the cupboard?” said Mom. “They’re for hammering, not chewing! You’ll break your teeth!”
Head tilted to one side, the Tweet Detective listened intently.
There it was: “Caw-tweet-caw!”
“I must know what species of bird that is!” cried the Tweet Detective. “It will solve the entire murder!”
He thought for a moment, then withdrew his iPhone, opened Twitter, and asked the internet for help.
This story was based on a title suggested by @Beryllium.
Hamburger Hank took three steps into the restaurant, gasped, spun on his heel, and stormed out.
“What’s wrong?” asked French Fry Felicia.
“They sell chicken as if it’s a hamburger!” cried Hamburger Hank. “It’s a travesty!”
“So what?” asked French Fry Felicia.
“I have a real beef with chicken burgers.”
“Why aren’t the llamas spitting?” pouted Rosie.
“Well they don’t spit all the time, honey,” explained Dad.
“But I wanna see ’em spit!”
“Sorry, dear,” said Dad. “Maybe next time.”
But the damage was done. It would take little Rosie twenty-three years to overcome today’s shattering of her expectoration expectations.
This story was based on a suggestion from @MisterFiendZero, who sent in the title as a story prompt via Twitter.
“Mom, my square-shaped brand-name cereal tastes like O-shaped brand-name cereal!”
“Don’t you mean diamond-shaped, dear?”
“No, Mom. That was just a clever marketing scheme! They’ve been square-shaped all along! And I don’t want them to taste like O-shapes!”
“You should write a letter and deliver it to the Post office!”
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
“Which way is the wind blowing now?” sneered the chimney to the weather vane.
The weather vane just waved left and right a little.
The chimney huffed grumpily. “You cost ten bucks at a hardware store, but you act like you’re made of gold!”
It was the height of vanity.