In a secret room, a sinister cabal meets. The men there share a common goal, one they’ve had since childhood.
Among charts of rising temperatures and shrinking Arctic ice, they talk of proving what the non-believers denied.
Maps of the North Pole lie circled.
Operation: Flush Out Santa nears completion.
Cole Grinnell is a scientist, writer, and actor who works, when he works, out of Baltimore, Maryland. He should have a blog, but strangely, he doesn’t.
“Hello, nurse.”
“Good morning!”
“What’s on the menu today?”
“Appendix removal with side salad is on special, and Doctor Jones is whipping up his homemade double bypass.”
“Sounds wonderful, but I’m on a budget today. I’ll take a half-order of hip replacement, please.”
“Certainly. Don’t forget to tip your orderly!”
This story is based on a title suggested by @Invariel.
The cowboy drank until he’d had enough, then topped off his flask for later.
When he turned to go, a couple mean-looking gents had gathered.
“Had enough?” said one.
“Got my fill.”
“Well at this lemonade stand most folks pay before they drink. Now give the little girl her quarter.”
This story was based on the prompt “had my fill” at TypeTrigger.
“One last thing, Officer Markham.”
“Yes, Captain?”
“Look out for youths wearing baggy trousers. That’s the mark of the Hooligans’ Club!”
“Yes, sir!” Markham strode off on patrol.
The Captain chuckled. Rookies were so gullible!
He felt differently later, while processing the paperwork for seventeen wrongful arrests of baggy-trousered teenagers.
This story is based on the title suggested by Nicholas Barlow.
“You have a gun? That’s crazy! I don’t want that in here!”
“Relax. It’s perfectly safe.”
“But guns are used for shooting things.”
“Yeah, like bad guys. Or moose.”
“But… Wait, what about bears?”
“Sure, I could shoot those.”
“The fewer bears in the world, the better. Get on it!”
This story is dedicated to Kate, who provided the title that inspired it.
“No one listens. NO ONE EVER LISTENS!!”
In the corner, several people were cowering. “Are you going to let us go?”
The irate tuxedoed gentleman whirled in fury, brandishing a handgun. “No!” he cried. “Ignorant fools. Listen. Appreciate. Learn. Grow.”
The captives cringed as the musician bent over his glockenspiel.
This story is based on a title suggested by @Jillers.
Every night the elves secretly finished the cobbler’s work.
The intricate yet sturdy shoes became very popular.
The king heard about this and the cobbler was called to the castle to make royal shoes.
Unfortunately he didn’t know how to prepare that style himself.
In the end he was beheaded.
This story came to Rammy in his three-quarter sleep.
“I’m the best hyperbolizer in the world.”
“Stop exaggerating.”
“Have you ever heard of anyone else like me? I’m a world-famous big-talker, man! One of a kind!”
“There’s only one thing you could claim you’re famous for, and that’s the size of your head.”
“Yep! Biggest noggin there ever was!”
This story is based on the prompt “hyperbolic” at TypeTrigger.
She transferred to four different buses at random, closed her eyes and spun in a circle, walked down a few unfamiliar side streets, and wound up right in front of her house.
Again.
There was only one explanation: Mom hadn’t been lying; her father really had been a homing pigeon.
She sang beautifully. When it ended they rose to their feet in awe and appreciation, begging for more.
“Ever heard of having too much of a good thing?” she chided them. Still they implored her: a little longer!
To prove her point, she barred the exits during her three-day encore.