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The Plan They Made for the 5th of July, 1980They were freaks and they didn't care.
Jake was wearing high-waisted pants with suspenders and no shirt. He had sewn the pants himself, altering a pattern from the 1930's. Jessica was wearing harlequin tights and white body suit, both of which she had special ordered through a dance magazine. Her ankles strained to lift her platform shoes with every step - they were three inches of dense, unforgiving plastic.
Their sole mission that night was for the both of them to get backstage and bang the best singer in the universe.
Okay, the music was part of it too.
But the singer was, like, God. And who wouldn't want to get God in bed?
The crowd was massive, but Jake and Jessica were prepared for anything.
They got to their seats without having to stab anyone or throw pepper in their eyes.
Jake reached into his pants and pulled out the Super 8 video camera they had smuggled in. While Jessica loaded the film, Jake refastened velcro panels on his
Mrs Pockett's Swimming RaceMrs Pockett was swimming with all her might, but it wasn't good enough. Lady Lilly was pulling ahead.
"Faster, darling, faster!" Mr Pockett shouted.
"I can taste your 50-year old whisky now, Mr Pockett!" Mr Harrington called from across the water.
"Catch up, damn you! Swim, you ninny!" Mr Gillroy bawled at his Gilly. Poor Gilly splashed more frantically, but it was no use - it was really down to Lady Lilly and Mrs Pockett.
The men kept shouting, calling names, and otherwise being useless. The two final ladies were desperately exchanging first place, the water churning wildly around them.
"Oh it will be close!" the judge said excitedly.
" You've got it, my dear!" Mr Pockett shouted between his cupped hands.
Mrs Pockett paddled ahead again and --
There was mixture of howling and cheering as the finish line was cleared.
"Mrs Pockett is the winner!" the judge announced.
Mr Pockett leaned down to the water and sco
MacDougal's Story "Tell it again, Mister MacDougal. This time, leave out the leprechaun."
Mister MacDougal glowered impressively. His bright blue eyes were half-buried by his bushy white eyebrows.
"Mister MacDougal, please," the police officer said. "You're our only eyewitness and I can't have you going on record saying a leprechaun did it."
"Oh alright, have it your way," Mister MacDougal said. He leaned back in his chair and began stroking his beard.
"Alright, so I'm sitting on the corner, yeah? And I'm playing dice with, uh, a friend of mine. And on the left comes this fellow looking for all the world like a bank robber in a silent film. Sack of cash on his shoulder and a bandana on his face!" Mister MacDougal slapped his knee with a laugh.
"And was he carrying a weapon, Mister MacDougal?" Officer Gershwin asked.
"Some kinda revolver. I don't know anything about guns, but it was a real Dirty Harry thing. A
Kiss Kiss, JennyThis wasn't turning out right.
He had worked on it so long and it wasn't going right.
He cleared his throat and tried again.
Saying her name helped.
"Jenny," he repeated. He took a deep breath and looked at her again.
She watched him, her eyes shimmering with tears.
"Jenny, we know this isn't working out. I love you, I really do."
Jenny looked like she was going to say something. He spoke more quickly.
"I- I- I mean, we get along famously, right? Love all the same movies, listen to the same bands, we both like -- just let me finish!"
Jenny sniffed and didn't say anything.
"I just can't... why did you do that to me? I-- I mean, all I ever did was love you! Who the hell is Darryl, compared to me? I'm always there for you, all the time, and you-- you go to DARRYL--"
Jenny made a whining noise.
He didn't realize he was crushing her shoulders until he let go.
"S-sorry. I'm sorry. This wasn't how thi
WeightYou weighed only four pounds and three ounces
I had nothing that would fit you
At four pounds and three ounces
It was all too little or too big
I went shopping for you
All four pounds and three ounces of you
And what I found just barely fit
All the ashes
In your urn
Five pounds and three ounces
Problems with the Staff (Revised)I blearily shuffled into my lab and slapped on the coffee maker. I was enjoying staring at the dripping coffee when a loud noise exploded out of the lab speakers.
I almost screamed.
It took me a moment to recognize the sound was the shatter of glass breaking on tile.
Then a voice came from the speakers.
It was Stucky’s voice. Stucky, who wasn’t due to be on duty for another four hours. The speakers crackled with a familiar sound and after a few moments, there was a soft sound of cloth falling on carpet.
“…No,” Stucky said.
Crackle. I heard some little noises, then the clatter of something thin and metallic hitting concrete.
Now a hail of small hard spheres pinging off of thick glass.
Alright, this was ridiculous. I put on my belt and tuned it. I hit the buckle and crackled into existence four feet away from S
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