A song on the radio triggered. She knew immediately that she had a destiny.
She quit her job, hitch-hiked to Vegas, and spent three days wandering aimlessly, waiting for a sign.
The cute waiter who served her fettucine asked her why she was eating alone.
They lived happily ever after.
Every Thursday, Maxwell brought his Mum to Bingo. She never said thank you.
One week, she won fifteen thousand dollars. She took a limo home.
Next Thursday, she called him. “I need a ride to Bingo,” she said. “I spent all the money on clothes.”
He said, “Take the bus.”
“I prefer kleenexes, because they’re soft and comforting, like you.”
“I prefer napkins, because they’re tough and effective, like you.”
They had this conversation every single time they went out to dinner. Then she would sneeze, and he would spill on his shirt, and they would go home feeling rejuvenated.
Once there was a very ugly duckling. It got a lot of sympathy from people in the park, who thought it was so ugly that it rounded the far end of the spectrum and was somehow cute instead.
So the normal ducklings got jealous and beat the ugly duckling up.
Henry was sitting in the park, his wife and son beckoning him to join them.
He felt peace, but he was in pain.
He stood; stepped; stopped, struck by a force so great he felt he had no breath.
Then, “He’s back!” And the beeping on the cardiac machine resumed.
Larissa occassionally makes time to write down the meandering thoughts in her over-critical mind. She also wrote A Good Place.
Seven-year-old Kyle sold strawberries on Saturdays. He got exactly six customers every hour; he counted them.
Then one Saturday, between one o’clock PM and two o’clock PM, he had nine customers.
Three of them didn’t buy anything, though. “The more things change,” Kyle sighed, “the more they stay the same.”
“I hate cereal! I tell you this every. Single. Morning.”
“If you want waffles or bacon you’re free to prepare them yourself.”
“No way! That’s a MOM’s job!”
“Are you paying me?”
He was supposed to be. It cost thirty bucks an hour to get someone from Made Of Maids.
Scott and Christine were ecstatic. They were being inducted into the LEGO Sculptors Hall of Fame!
They took a LEGO cake out of their LEGO freezer, popped open a bottle of LEGO champagne, and celebrated together by watching the Discovery Channel on their LEGO TV.
“We’ve finally arrived,” they said.
Thanks to @Aaron416 for responding to my call on Twitter for prompts. I asked for two names and an emotion, and he responded with Scott, Christine, and ecstatic.
“Ok, let’s work on your quick, short punches and your wordplay. You’re going to be the best boxing comedian there’s ever been!”
Gurpreet paused. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not sure I can ever be stronger and wittier than Youssef.”
“Nonsense,” cried his trainer. “He’s good, but you’re Punjabi.”
If you don’t get it, leave a comment!
“Thanks, Chet.
“I never expected to broadcast from a place like this! I’m standing amid chaos, and I can’t help but wonder if we, as a nation, have made a mistake in creating this Ministry of Wordplay.
“I’ve been dodging portmanteaus and malapropisms all afternoon! It’s complete pundemonium in here!”