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.”
“Hey, have I told you about the sci-fi book I’m writing? It’s set in the coolest solar system ever. The main characters live on a lava planet which is kept cool by the rays of an icy anti-sun.”
“…You can’t be serious.”
“And there are secret cloned laser cyborg aliens.”
This story is based on the title suggested by @Yax.
Kevin’s unfocused eyes were cast upwards, drifting lazily with the clouds. Half a smile played across his face.
The other half sat on a porch swing in her parents’ back yard, but it was hiding behind a coating of chocolate ice cream and actually had nothing to do with Kevin.
This story was based on the title suggested by @davefp.
Once upon a time, Captain Scowlyface found himself clinging to a slippery, moss-covered rock at the peak of a raging waterfall. He wasn’t happy about it, so he scowled so harshly that the river dried up , leaving behind a series of puddles that said “SORRY; PLEASE SMILE!”
But he didn’t.
@BearHawkWriter deserves credit for the title “The Adventures of Captain Scowlyface.”
They played the tape of his wife’s murder for him and studied his face carefully. It was paper white. Innocent.
The tape restarted. Once more they watched the brutal stabbing.
Back at home, a single thought pounded through his mind as he stroked the still-bloody knife: “There was a camera?!”
Jennifer Slade: tall, beautiful, luscious blonde locks, sparkling eyes, excellent singing voice, doctorate in art and design… In reality, a high school student with a passion for drawing and music. She also has a vivid imagination.
The life of a pygmy banana is short and sweet.
As buds on the branch, they live with joy, innocence, and enthusiasm.
The growing process is a time of learning and maturation.
Some fall from the branch and freely give of themselves to the grateful wildlife.
Others simply rot.
“Yo, man. I thought Randy carried this song. You got a great low-end range there, dog.
“But Paula, you were pretty pitchy, and Simon, honestly, work on your rhythm. You missed, like, half your cues!”
“Wow!” said Ryan Seacrest. “This is exactly why we’re doing American Idol: Judge the Judges!”
Mr. Mannequin was not a particularly outgoing person. He was more concerned with the latest fashions than with making social contact. He was content to let others pass by and stare (in jealousy of his fine wardrobe, probably).
On Wednesdays, he tidied his master’s secret laundry room genetic engineering laboratory.
“You fool of a henchman!” cried the criminal overlord, with a mighty sneeze. “I’m allergic to cats!”
“But he’s such an itty bitty pretty kitty, isn’t he? Such a cutesy snootsy bittle snookums…”
“You fool!” cried the criminal overlord, with a mighty cough. “I’m even more allergic to lovey-dovey gibberish!”
King Rigel watched as the ship drew out of sight.
The officials on board believed themselves bound for the Outer Lands. But the King knew: when the ship passed the base on Vallanger, the royal navy would completely destroy them.
Rigel sat back on his throne. He loved being evil.
Stephen Pester is a student from London with a completely unremarkable life which therefore leaves him stuck to find two sentences to write about myself. He guesses this counts.