“I’m sinking in the quicksand! Toss me a vine!”
“There aren’t any long enough to reach!”
“What about that one? It’s, like, seven feet long!”
She leapt for the vine, but there were too many walnuts on the ground, and she tripped on them.
His last words: “Worst. Vacation. Ever.”
This story was based on the following tweetful of suggestions from @KingKool: “Too many walnuts! The worst vacation! Seven feet long! Rapidly sinking in quicksand! Etc.”
“Aaaaah! A zombie!”
The room full of business executives burst into chaos as the fatcats scrambled for the exits.
“Wait!” called the zombie. “I’m not like those horror-movie zombies! I don’t want to hurt you!”
Everyone froze in astonishment. Then:
“Aaaaah! A talking zombie!”
The zombie sighed. “Theodore was right…”
They ran through the forest, fishing poles slapping against their back. They ran as fast as possible, each trying desperately to edge past the other. They looked around and, seeing a suitable tree, began to climb. They sat at the very top; laughing and smiling.
But the bears could climb.
J.M. Valentino likes to take time between being an international man of mystery and bagging the hot green alien chick to write. More of his work can be found at www.irregularreading.blogspot.com.
“Finally!” complained Fluffy the cat in the softly exasperated voice of a young mother. “The kittens are down for nap time. All they ever do is eat, sleep, and whine!”
Mittens, her husband, mewed appreciatively. “What should we do with our free time?”
“Grab a snack and get some shuteye.”
“First, we take the deadly iocaine powder and stir it into the jug of fruit punch. Now, we dip the carrot into the mixture, and… Voila! Look closely, but do not inhale!”
“Isn’t this kind of dangerous?” asked one of the students.
“Good Science is always dangerous,” intoned Professor Westley.
This story was based on the title, as suggested by @LaurenceFawkes via Twitter.
My wife and I had an argument. She wanted to spend a hundred bucks each on opera tickets, and I wanted to play World of Warcraft.
The argument lasted for days, and neither of us would budge.
In the end, we compromised. I went along, but I brought my netbook.
This story was based on the titled as submitted by @Wo0t via Twitter.
Well, this was certainly a surprise. Then again, he should have known it might happen. Things like this were always happening to him.
But still, it would have been nice to have had a bit of a heads-up this time. If he had known, he probably would have worn pants.
Amy Townsley is a mother of two originally from California but now living in Utah. She is currently a student at Weber State University studying English. She hopes to go on to pursue a MFA in Creative Writing and take a serious stab at this writing thing she has been flirting with for years.
“Who do you think would win in a fight, Luke Skywalker or Aragorn?”
“What kind of stupid question is that?”
“How about Gandalf versus Darth Vader?”
“I’m not even going to acknowledge anything so dumb.”
“R2D2 versus Gollum?”
“Try this one: my boot versus your butt.”
Surprisingly, the butt won.
“MAKE WHEY FOR THE PRINCE!”
“Oh, sorry, I’ll step aside, didn’t see you coming.”
“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!”
“I’m making way!”
“NO, NO, NO! I SAID ‘MAKE WHEY‘!!”
“Make weigh? What, does he need a scale to stand on?”
“ARE YOU CALLING HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS FAT!?”
“…No?”
“SUMMON THE EXECUTIONER!!”
The cowboy walked up to the toddler, who was sitting on the cowboy’s hat. “Howdy!” he said.
“Doody!” said the toddler.
“Baw haw haw!” said the cowboy. “I love Howdy Doody! Great minds think alike, pardner!”
“Doody!”
“That’s right, you’ve–” The cowboy sniffed. “Aw, crap, little pardner. In my hat!?”