“The sky is falling!” cried Chicken Little. “We must go tell the king!”
The king called for the tallest crane in the kingdom and sent three women up in it with sewing needles and strong thread. They mended the sky and sewed the rips up nice and tight.
The end.
One day, the veterinarian came by to inspect the dairy farmer’s cows. “Bad news,” she said, “your herd is infected; neither their milk nor their meat can be sold.”
What did the farmer do upon discovering that the infected milk cured cancer?
He milked it for all it was worth.
“Oh man… You got owned! And he took your girlfriend, too! What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to become a recluse for two years and teach myself advanced martial arts so I can rescue her and be a hero!”
“That’s dumb.”
“…True. I’ll just find a new girlfriend.”
“These are your time-keeping files? What kind of a Mickey Mouse operation is this?”
“Look, we’re doing the best we can, under the circumstances.”
The auditor from Corporate was clearly unimpressed. “You’re missing essential paperwork, your tax numbers are off, and worst of all, you’ve missed Minnie’s last three paycheques!”
The alternate title for this story could be “Disorganized in Disneyland”.
“Let’s do some brainstorming!” said Miss Flannerty. “Today’s topic is Violence.”
Billy and Bobby and Suzie shared words like “punching” and “stabbing” and “capping y’all haters” and “bad”.
“Ah, my mistake,” said Miss Flannerty, pulling some chemicals, syringes, and DVDs out of the closet. “I meant brainwashing.”
It was time to take off the training wheels…
Literally.
Dad tossed the screwdriver up and down. “You’re sure you’re ready for this?” he grunted.
Terrence crossed his arms, frowned, and nodded emphatically.
Later, in the hospital, Terrence held his dad’s hand.
“Be tough,” said Terrence. “They can fix you.”
“Everything sure is great, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, absolutely. I can’t think of a single possible thing that could make my life better.”
“More steak?”
“Nah; I’ve got plenty.”
“More bacon?”
“I already eat it four times a day…”
“More steak wrapped in bacon?”
“…I think you may have something there.”
“Say hello to my little friend,” sneered the dark-haired man.
“Hello,” I said.
“Hello,” said his little friend.
“Are you new to town?” I asked.
“Yeah, I moved last week,” she replied. “I like it a lot here, but it’s hard to meet people.”
“Tell me about it!” I said.
The rearview mirror held a terrifying apparition:
An entire herd of rampaging bovine destroyers trailed behind us, rage and hunger dancing in their eyes.
“Don’t stop! Stomp on the gas!” I shouted, but Georgia wordlessly pointed at the fuel gauge.
The cows advanced, and we were all out of grapefruit…
He could lift a truck off the ground with nothing but two fingers and a crane.
He could fly short distances by kicking his legs and holding his breath.
He could breathe through his nose and his mouth at the same time.
He was my best friend, and I hated him.