Charlotte’s Dutch Colonial

‘So,’ said the real estate agent, ‘what do you think?’

‘I was looking for something stickier,’ said the spider.

The Suspiciously High Temperature

‘Your results have come back,’ said the doctor.

‘And I’m fine, right?’ said the patient. ‘You called me in to say I’m fine? I’m definitely fine.’

‘I’m, well, there’s never an easy way to say this,’ said the doctor. ‘You’re on fire.’

Heroic Deeds: A Cost Benefit Analysis

‘I’ve been thinking about the wedding,’ said the Handsome Prince. ‘What do you think about doves?’

For a moment the only sound was a distant bird and the gentle clopping of their horses’ hooves through the forest. ‘What wedding?’ said the Princess.

The Handsome Prince chuckled charmingly. ‘Why, our wedding of course.’

Blood Is Thicker Than Thinner Blood

‘Hello, excuse me,’ said the vampire. ‘Please do not be running avay from me.’

‘Why are the wearing evening wear and a cape?’ said Duncan. ‘It’s the middle of summer.’

‘Oh,’ said the vampire, mildly disappointed. ‘Most people run avay.’

‘You asked me not to.’

‘Yes, but it’s nice to be feared.’

The Fast And The Furiously In Love

It was love that drove Hank Jankson to assassinate the Dalai Lama.

Like an American voting against their own interests, the path had been one of incremental instinct rather than decisions. The choice equivalent of going down hill. He couldn’t leave Jennifer, it would be easier to breathe underwater. But he couldn’t live the rest of his life knowing he’d have to speak to his mother in law again any more than he could live the rest of his life with a beehive in his underpants. That left only one option, as far as he could see.

The Dalai Lama’s head exploded like a watermelon in a slow motion Youtube video.

Two Heads Are The Beginning Of An Argument

The machine screamed in childbirth, and a naked woman slid from it, covered in slime. With blinking newborn eyes that already needed glasses, she looked up at her creator. They say God made man in His own image, but this was more your basic cloning situation.

‘Welcome to life,’ said Beatrice Vamoose. ‘You’re due at work in half an hour.’

First Contact

The night sky exploded in a shower of light, colours that had never brushed the planet Earth. A humming of sound more raw than emotion, a direct line to the heart, welled every eye with the beautiful tears of a mother’s love. The ship landed.

Three figures emerged, or possibly one. Numbers made for inadequate adjectives. They spoke without the need for language. ‘Take us to your leader.’

The representative of the human race straightened his tie and stepped forward. ‘I’ll need to see your passports.’

The Father, The Son, And The Father And Son Talk

It was one of those father, son moments that only exist in American television shows. There was catch, and presumably throw.

‘Son, we need to talk,’ said God.

Interesting People Do Look At Explosions

The bad guys’ headquarters exploded, a perfect example of Michael Bay’s Theory Of Story Structure And Emotional Subtext.

‘Woah, what is that?’ said Jack Nitro.

‘It’s an explosion,’ said Kevin.

Jack Nitro’s stoic masculinity was fractured by a moment of confusion. ‘That’s what explosions look like?’

Who’s Put Off By Virginia Woolf?

The sun was shining and the birds were singing, although they were singing that mainstream corporate birdsong they have now, rather than the real birdsong of your mid to late teens which was definitely not motivated in any way by commercial interests.

‘Oh my god, a food truck!’ said Mary Shelly (not that one). ‘I love how the food is prepared in a truck instead of a kitchen, and yet still costs the same despite the considerable savings on rent and staff!’

‘I know!’ said Virginia Woolf (or that one). ‘And by not providing somewhere for us to eat they don’t just save money, they can serve more customers than a traditional restaurant which is limited by it’s physical seating capacity, without passing any of the savings on to us, the customer!’

‘I’m going to have a simulacrum of fast food made with healthier or more ethical ingredients to convince me I’m a foodie,’ said Mary Shelly.

‘I’m going to have a bland meal from my past and enjoy nostalgia in place of actual flavour,’ said Virginia Woolf.

‘Wait, what’s that falling towards us?’ said Mary Shelly.

The refrigerator hit Virginia Woolf with the full force of a refrigerator dropped from a window forty floors above.