David and the WhiskeyDavid drank from a bottle of Johnnie Walker Red. He watched the Joshua trees against the orange sunset and sweated. He didn't notice anyone was behind him but was so miserable he didn't even jump when he heard the voice.
"So. The reconciliation didn't go well, I take it," James said.
"Les'see... 'I hate you I hate you yellow-bellied bastard why didn't I listen to my mother' blah blah blah, ad nauseam. Pretty sure she 'hates me hates me'."
"I see you brought a bunch of alcohol. I brought water. And, y'know, food."
"Mmmm," David muttered as he took a swig of whiskey. It burned like hell and just made him hotter.
"Well. What kind of liquor did you bring?" James asked as he walked the five feet to the car. There was a lot of clinking and then a cry, "Oh man! You brought Old Ezra!"
"Lookin' out for you man," David said.
"Can I open this? I'm opening it. Veni, vidi, vici!
The Unfortunate Life of Mister BibblesGo here. Do this. Say that. Move your arms like this –no no no, like this. You’re moving too fast, you’re moving too slow. Stop bouncing so much.
And do I have any choice in this?
No, of course not.
Just do as the man behind the camera says.
And what the man with his hand up your innards says.
It sucks being a puppet.
Signals “Greetings, puny Earthling! I come bearing gifts!”
“Is it regular? Please God, tell me it’s regular,” Walker’s voice came from somewhere beneath the Unholy Pile of Crap.
“Even better, frail human. It’s double espresso and al dente,” Yamada said.
Walker’s head struggled above a stack of paper. His eyes were bloodshot and there were massive circles under his eyes.
“Al dente?” he asked.
“Leftover spaghetti. How is Sagittarius treating you today?”
“Ugh,” he grimaced as Yamada slopped vaguely warm spaghetti into a paper bowl. “Sagittarius is galloping over my entire brain and yet all I can see is a horses’ ass.”
“I take it that the extraterrestrials haven’t flown over your telescope in the last day or so, then,” Yamada said as he cautiously passed the bowl to Walker between two paper
Izri WaitsIzri waits.
The last goat is in the pen. His mint tea had been drunk. There is no wife, no children to see after. No friends, no villagers. There is only Izri, the goat, and the desert.
The sun burns low over the dunes.
The bodies are dark and writhing with flies. Even their ravenous buzzing could not fill the silence of the desert.
But… now he hears it. A sound like talking thunder.
The advance guard had already killed everyone in the village.
Now the Romans’ true army comes.
Shooters and SnoogersLawrence’s stomach felt awful. He had everything bet on this shot. If he missed, Marvin would take everything he had. Heck, Marvin already had everything he had. But Marvin sure wouldn’t give it back unless Lawrence made this shot.
“C’mon Lawrence! You chickenin’ out?”
Lawrence scowled. He knuckled down and launched his shooter.
It hit! The last marble spun towards the edge of the circle.
“It’s a snooger!” Marvin yelled.
“No, see!” Lawrence shouted. The marble stopped just outside the chalk circle.
“I win! I win! Gimme all your marbles!”
“No! I won them before!”
Problems with the StaffThe snap and shatter of glass breaking on tile.
Soft sound of cloth falling on carpet.
Clatter of something thin and metallic hitting concrete.
A hail of small hard spheres pinging off of thick glass.
Alright, this was ridiculous. I went in.
“Stucky!” I shouted.
“Jesus Christ!” he shrieked, throwing up his hands. A porcelain angel flew through the air. I moved slightly to the left and it landed neatly in my grasp. I walked towards Stucky with my hand still raised. He was frantically pressing the button on his belt buckle. I loomed over him and suddenly jerked my hand as if to smash the angel over his skull.
“Nnnyah!” he whined, wincing into a half-crouch.
I set the angel back on its dresser. Stucky realized I wasn’t going to damage him just yet and looked at me unc