Phil Harwell

TurtleGameMaste r

Sam Becker

Sean King

Raj Chaklashiya

Benjamin Chandler

English

Part 38: “The Tofu of Doom”
Gerald sat on the hood of his ‘67 GTO and chewed his gum. “I say there, my compadres,” he said. “What say we go to the Asian store and purchase some tofu. I have a serious jones for it.”
Little did they know that the store only sold expired tofu, which

... unleashed a powerful bacteria with a 50% fatality rate. "Sounds good Gerald," said his friend Scarlet. "Let's go for it." Within an hour they were staring at the luscious tofu through the sneeze glass. "This one's on me," said Gerald.

Without another word, he reached into the container with a syringe to begin the first series of tests. After about an hour, however, they still had learned nothing about the mysterious tofu, except that their estimations about its deadliness were far too low.

“We’re not finding anything, chief!”, he shouted across the lab at his boss. “It’s a perfectly normal slab of bean curd, chemically speaking.” “25 dead vegans say otherwise!”, sighed the chief, picking up her phone. An hour later, the necromancer and 3 acolytes entered the lab.

The Necromancer's acolytes chanted "undo the tofu" and the 25 dead vegans revived. "Now can YOU tell us what this tofu is?" asked the Chief. The Necromancer simply cackled and ate the tofu himself, then left. The now-undead vegans later sued because they died eating the tofu. END

The Secret Weapons’ Archive

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Jay Knowles

Chris Dodds

Jacob Sherman

Robin Devereaux-Nelson

I’m Mark Hamill, but you can call me Dr. Hamill. That Star Wars character? Not related. Welcome to my office. Every patient in here has a unique story, and I reply to each and every one of them with “Interesting”. Let’s start our therapy session, shall we?

It’s tough having a famous name, but I’ve had the name longer than he has, so that gives me seniority. I’ve “autographed” a few things for people, for a lark. I sincerely hope none of them sell that stuff on eBay. I really should’ve thought that through. Oh well.

I mean, it’s not like Tony Shaloub is an uncommon name. Honestly there are probably more of us with the name.

I mean, ladies & gentlemen of the jury, I'm absolutely certain that there are other Tony Shaloubs who accidentally get the actor's residual cheques & cash them too. I mean, you think a big time celebrity like Mr. Shaloub misses money from his work on "Wings" or "Men in Black"?

“He does not miss the money, because the regular checks for $0.12 fill him with a righteous fury which he channels into charitable work in northern Mongolia. How, I say, how will the children there learn with such a big part of Mr. Shaloub’s motivation squashed?”

“Well Shaloub on my schleem!” Tony Shaloub screamed, clutching a slimy spicy salami. For the uninitiated, schleem is the material added to a rolled dinglebop during the production process of a plumbus. I should know, I got it from Interdimensional Cable.

And that was Tony, always bragging about his knowledge of plumbusi, which was a pain to all of us in

the restaurant as we not only didn't care in the slightest, but he would always bring it up whenever he got the chance! What even was "plumbusi" anyway? Nothing even came up when I googled it, so I'm pretty sure Tony's making all of it up.

We went to the restaurant anyway and were shocked to see that the "plumbusi" was an blue slug-like alien cuisine. Tony bit into it and fell in love with the dish. I did too. This was the best food I've ever tasted. I was sorry for doubting Tony. I had a new favorite restaurant.

Mark n’ Tony

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Chris Baroody

Pennywise  

Jack Hollowell

Joe puts a pizza into the oven, and he has a gun (I don't know why). It was this really cool gun that could shoot five hundred rounds with only a few! Truly a technological marvel to be wielded, and by such a simple man! We mortals can only imagine the kind of power he possesses!

This simple man had a simple plan: to rid the city of its biggest threat: the dreaded cyber zombies! They came from the server rooms at Gorgle, and spread to the fields of Mikerosoft, and beyond! They’re unstoppable! What hope do we have? Only the simple man can save us! Oh noes!

Simple man’s next move was to recruit. But how? Online would be risky; Cyzombs were good with computers. Luckily, SM wasn’t. Instead he knew a blackmarket Office Depot, and blanketed the city with flyers. When the reptilian masterminds saw, fear took them - they knew the prophecy

that they will be taken down by Legion, by Anonymous, who does not forgive, who does not forget. The flyers read, “The tyrannical tyrannosaurus shall fall, once and for all.” They knew the poster was referring to the Illuminati elite, and shook in fear. The Age of Man has dawned.

Patty looked across the table at her cousin Philip. They both stifled a laugh. Aunt Connie, who they called “Connie-spiracy” was at it again. Patty wondered how she’d react to the new 5G tower being built across the street.

They wouldn't have to wait long to find out. After Aunt Connie finished her mimosa, she started spouting her latest theory. "You know why it's called 5G, don't you? G is for George, as in Soros, & 5 is for 5, as in Johnny 5 from 'Short Circuit'—a war robot! The new tower will

usher in the age of robots. Well, 1/2 robot, 1/2 patriots. The endgame. There will be nothing left— just socialist zombie robot men and pizza shop dungeons. You mark my—“ A single shot rang out from a laser gun. A neat pile of dust and a copper bracelet sat where Connie had been.

“Well, well, well, Connie!” a figure stepped out from the dust, “You’ve just been cremated — by the Crematinator! Best grab an urn, because that’s gotta burn!” An audible gasp came out. Isn’t that… “Doofus Schmidt!” “Please, call me… Doctor!” “Well you did poorly — for a doctor!”

The laughing track played and I moved to commit the next action, but pounding came to the door. I pushed up my Oculus VR, my heart pummeling my chest. My legs are numb. Like in the cyber-zombies chapter, the pounding happens again, so loud this time that the door might bust down.

“Your pizza is here!!” A voice was heard from the outside, but I didnt order a pizza. That made me suspicious, so instead of opening the door I ran upstairs to look for a weapon. Something strange was happening and I needed to be ready to defend myself.

My weapon, a fake katana stolen from my brother's bedroom wall, was grasped unsteadily in my shaking hands. "I didn't order a pizza!" I yelled through the door. No reply. I held the blade across my body like I had seen on my brother's Kill Bill poster and tried to catch my breath

A shadowy figure burst through the door and took a giant throwing star out of their pizza box and hurled it at me. With the patience and precision of a samurai, I sliced the star in two. My assailant ran away in terror. The “fake” katana was real all along. I knelt in reverence.

Joey Pepperoni and The Conspiracy of Pizza Ninjas

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Junior Hernandez

Damaskox

Madeline Sammut

Emily J

"Why am I here?" I thought, walking through the old "haunted" house at the end of the neighborhood. The last time I was here I was only a small lad, no older than 7, so why am I feeling an urge to suddenly come here to investigate this place again? Were the ghosts taking me here?

Turns out, they were. I was dragged by figures covered in bedsheets, who for some reason were carrying torches. I thought ghosts were afraid of light? And it opened to the foyer of the mansion, with a noose hanging from the chandelier. The “ghosts” cheered as the noose tightened.

Suddenly I heard a neighing and clattering of hooves on the terrazzo. “Begone you ignorant fools! Even the afterlife can’t make you bigoted shades any smarter!” The rider slashed at my assailants with a silvery sword.

Blow came at him from left and right, and mounted riders charged and attempted to flank his steed. All were downed by the flashing blade, cling! cling! clang! The sword took care of all, through limb and torso and head.

The air was filled with screams and the blood painted the ground. Soon the bloody faces had all eyes shut. No body moved on the ground - only the grass was affected by the wind. The riders stood there, silent, smiling, for a small while, before getting down from their steeds.

They walked around inspecting the scene to insure their job was done. One of the riders stopped his job suddenly. He removed himself from the bloody scene and began scanning the surrounding area. It was clear he knew someone else was there, watching the horrific scene.

Standing in that corner yonder, who could be that shady figure, as we’re left to sit and ponder, out he came and caught a ni— “Cut it out, Narrator!” Alright, fine. The rider stared at the corner. “I always feel like, somebody’s watching me” “I’ll be watching you” came the reply.

"Through bigoted shades?" the rider cried. "I got rid of those," said the hangman, "I got these Oakleys instead." The rider came close. "These aren't Oakley," he noted soberly. "Look, the brand is Orkney." The hangman threw the sunglasses to the ground. "That Bulgarian swindler!"

“Look,” the rider said. “Let’s forget about this whole hanging thing. I can show you where to find real Oakleys.” The hangman paused. “Deal!” He freed the rider. As they rode off into the sunset he said, “But I’m bringing the noose. You never know, we might still have some fun.”

This one got grim

louisgamer 321

Marta P

Boris Jakovljević

Joshua Sisk

Jack grab snacks from movie Theater stand. Jack hear woman at stand and look up see worker give him popcorn and movie Ticket. Unknown stranger woman look at him not blank or take eyes off him. When man turn around to her Direction she disappear. Jack want in movie theater.

Movie theater was very crowd. Movie sound is very loud. So many action in the screen, dont know where that women been. Then Jack smell something wrong, no nobody release gas, but the movie theater is very big bomb. Booooom Jack go away in time.

Jack had no time to think, so he had to improvise. Theater security confiscated his pistol, so what could he use as a weapon? Time was moving fast and he didn’t want to panic the crowd by telling them they were literally inside a bomb, so he just hoped he could disarm it in time.

How could he even start looking for the bomb? There was too much people around and they can easily see what he would be up to!

So he decided to simply not look for it. Instead, he turned hastily and walked up the street to his family's restaurant. All that thought of bombs made him hungry for scrambled eggs and black coffee, except he suddenly remembered that he forgot to put his shoes on this morning.

The sign on the door read “no shirt no shoes no problem”, so he walked right in. “Hey little sister won’t you make me some eggs?” He sang as he poured himself a cup of joe. He took a pair of flip flops from the rack by the till and went to the corner booth.

No one had ever serenaded the chicken before, & she blushed under her feathers. "Buck-buck!" she said, which roughly translates to "Anything for you." Instantly she deposited 8 eggs in her nest, then demurely slid to the side so he could see them. He nodded. "Brown eggs. Exotic!"

Okay now it’s getting a little weird. Who in his right mind would do such a thing a a chicken? Of course, who else could it be but Cletus. Not again! The hen laid green eggs on his plate of ham, and Dr. Seuss happened to notice this somehow. Who knew it was based on a true story?

And he just wanted some of them too. How could anyone say no to this!? He couldn't take back what he'd done though because the egg is literally sitting in front of him! It's almost begging him to eat it!
Well that wasn't going to happen because Cletus has no idea how he got here

and time was running out. Still, the temptation was unbrearable. Taking one last good look at the Egg, he dashed out of the room to figure out where he was, and, more importantly, how to escape. Cletus suddenly tripped and fell into

Life Ethically dicey ways. Acknowledge the lie is one letter short of f. Rolling the dice I looked to the skyline

The Emerald City gleamed. I prayed that luck would shine its glorious green light on me. The dice settled into position. I unsquinted one eye, then two. Could it be? Bless my E's it was Eleven! I ran to the front office, laid down my chips, and heard the magical word: Excellent.

Jack vs. Cletus

I stared intently at the hot dog as it fell and flopped lifelessly onto the pavement in front of me. With the power of the fall from my hand it propelled itself onto the road, where a speeding Honda Civic promptly ran over it and turned it into mush. What a horrible morning.

Hot dog hot dog hot diggity dog, that poor little thing lay down like a log, then a Honda Civic done turned it to fog. That Honda Civic went in a bog. Guess I’ll just go out for a little jog cause I’ve been sitting at home much like a fat hog.

Yet another year declared Hot Dog Summer, this time sponsored by Nathan's of Coney Island. Frankly, the novelty was wearing off. I mean, no one dislikes a good weiner... but are they really up to snuff anymore? I swear they don't taste the same as when I was a kid.

I knew what to do. There was a package of all beef franks buried in the garage freezer at my grandparents' summer home that had been there since 1988. Retrieving it, I took the hot dogs to the lab for a chemical analysis, comparing the '88 wieners with some I'd just bought.

Turns out a hot dog is just a hot dog. There was no difference whatsoever between them, in fact they were a perfect match with 100% accuracy. I drizzled some ketchup and mustard on the wieners. “Well begun is half done,” I remarked. Now to find some buns to go with those wieners.

But when I looked in the cupboard, there were none! Not a single bun left for my weiners. In fact, the only thing in the cupboard was a single sticky note, shaming me for my unconventional weiner-making, saying it was like putting the milk first. (Which is despicable, by the way)

No matter. I would make the hot dogs, buns or no buns. I am the master chef, I do not conform to your standards of hot dog making! I’ll write my own rules, thank you very much! Now, where was I? Oh yes, I was looking for the relish. I opened up the refrigerator door, only to find

an ornately wrapped box toward the back. Much to my surprise, I unwrapped a set of novelty hot sauces. I poured them on the dog and served it to my geriatric overlord. “Here you go ma’am,” I said, eyes watering. She was too old to detect the heat before consuming her final meal.

Hot Diggity

I crossed the bridge into Philly as the sun rose. I’d been driving all night. I had a vintage computer wrapped in a blanket, and an eager buyer on South Street. The sale would hopefully fund the rest of my trip, and be enough to get me started once I arrived.

“You got the fresh 96s?” “Yeah it’s right here,” I slammed the monitor on the car roof. “Now that’s antique, five dollars.” “Five dollars? I was expecting a little more.” “Nah five dollars, take it or leave it.” “Alright, fine.” Next someone walked up to me, and offered a bridge.

"Like over a river?" The guy shook his head, "No, a bridge in a song." This intrigued me. My wife wanted a serenade for her birthday & I had written a couple of nice romantic verses, but I had no bridge to shake up the mood. "Lemme hear your bridge," I said. He cleared his throat

aggressively. “Ol’ Man River,” he began, “keeps on riverin’.” I joined in. “Ol’ Man River, keeps on riverin!” The mood began to lighten. “Oh, Ol’ Man River, shiver me timber, lah di dah…” People looked at us like we were crazy, but we simply didn’t care.

We kept singing all throughout the night, no matter who or what tried to interfere. Thirty more people had joined us by the next morning, and none had even thought about leaving the merriment as we sang song after song. This carried on week after week, endlessly singing until the

the magical mead ran out and everyone settled into sobriety for the first time since the festival began. As the commotion died down I noticed what should have been obvious: everyone was naked except for red and green body paint. Then, over the loudspeaker: “assemble into tribes!”

City of Meaderly Love

Sunny Anomaly

The Wordplayer

“Are you of the intelligent sort? I suppose not.” “Well, I can assure you that I am a distinguished gentleman and scholar.” “Is that so? What, then, is the sum of the numbers nine and ten?” Why, that’s an elementary question! I spent no time figuring it out and loudly proclaimed,

“The sum isn’t what’s important! It’s the constituent parts. We mustn’t forget where we—“
“Admit it. You don’t know.”
I sighed. “Nine, then ten?” I uttered at last. “That’s easy. The next one is eleven.”
My interlocutor facepalmed. “No, you idiot. The answer is

22! We use base 5 in my culture. You count on one hand, while the other hand holds your tool. Or your sword! We’re lots of fun at parties.

Tools & swords. Ha! We also love to use innuendo—if you know what I mean—like going to a basketball game & yelling about guys playing with their big orange balls. Haha! Cracks me up even thinking about it. There was a time, though, that a little TWSS moment got me into hot water.

Innuendo? Well there’s a real pane in the glass in yo window! Anyways, I digress. I was in the shower and a naughty thought intruded into my mind. Maybe I should play with the handle a bit? Would be kind of funny. And that was when the shower sprayed hot water on me. Kind of hot.

I gotta be careful with the handle or it will burn me reeal good. Or badly? Grabbing the sponge, adding some soap, maybe croaking a song while at it? The water feels good on the skin...scrub here, scrub a little of there...but the naughty feeling lingered. What to do, how to...?

It babbles and coos, even in the deep private of its mind. I, less dense than steam; thinner than air - I am at my leisure always and at all times, to hear, see, whisper. Scene: human animal in soap, slick with it. Bloat toad, pet, I carry needles for shame and nooses for guilt.

And then, I woke up. That was sure a weird dream. As I struggled to remember what I even dreamed about, I got ready for the day like any other. I can't help but wonder what that was all about.

Halfway through putting my shoes on, my alarm went off, and I snapped my eyes open to find that I was still in bed. I had only dreamed I’d woken up. Now the dream was buried two dreams deep, and even harder to recall. I cursed and turned off my alarm, then closed my eyes again.

21ception

Lana Johnson

Mason Howard was a dentist who loved the library. He would always read books and check as many books as possible.

One morning while perusing the stacks, Mason spied a book he'd never seen before, "Lost Loves of the Bibliophile Dentist." Flipping through the pages, a slip of paper dropped from it. It was a note: 709.36 PLA. Recognizing the Dewey decimal system, he put the book under his arm &

jogged toward the section listed. Suddenly he heard a whistle. “No running in the library!”, stage-whispered the librarian, flipping out her ticket book. Second ticket this month! He had to be more careful. Third strike is a doozy:

You would think the punishment would be losing library privileges, but, no. Instead they make you re-alphabetize the ancient card catalog. He grabbed the ticket from the disapproving librarian and continued on his way to find the hovercraft schematics. There has to be a way in.

The next several hours were the longest and most maddening of his life. It turns out that “Lovecraft” has little to do with “hovercraft” and the eldritch horrors and casual racism he discovered ate away at his sanity so that he barely remembered his own name.

Seeing how corrupted he had become, he was filled with an intense hatred of the light, for it sought to expose him. He ran down the stairs and slammed the door behind him, never to come out of the basement. And his name became Anonymous, or Anon for short. He got on the computer.

He spent his days dwelling in the basement, never to see the light of day ever again. The only light emanated from his monitor screen, illuminating a silhouette of his morbidly obese figure. He enjoyed getting a rise out of others. It was his specialty. It made him feel superior.

Yes, his occupation was being an internet troll. Besides engaging in meaningless arguments with strangers, his true specialty was spreading misinformation to cause confusion. Today, he decided to stir up some rumors about British actor Boneditch Cumberland.

It took quite a while for everyone to find out that the rumors were false, but when they did it was too late. The damage had already been done. The only thing left to do was to find the source of all of this.

I knew where to look, but looking was hard and expensive. Eventually I learned that having your own university just to have a university library is prohibitively expensive. Lesson learned, time to move on to the next item. Oh yeah, the source. I think I found it online somewhere.

The mystery dentist

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Sparrow Crain

The Metapodmemes

Rietje Becker

Its been three days. I haven't seen a single thing all day that didn't want to kill me. I'm out of food and my compass is still broken - great. My only choice is to wander deeper into the forest. I don't want to, but I'm so lost already I don't know how things could get any worse

That's when I came upon the cliff. A sheer cliff dropping down into mists. No idea what was at the bottom, and no safe way to climb down. Across the chasm, nothing was visible. I had a choice: turn right, turn left, or go back the way I came through the deep dark woods of death.

That was when I remembered I had a flashlight. I flicked the switch on and pointed it down at the lifeless void below me. Still I could see nothing, no ground in sight. I tied a sturdy rope to a rock and my waist and began my descent down the high and mighty cliff.

I made my way down into the void, gently and slowly. I was doing fairly well, until my foot slipped, and

I quickly grabbed for one of the shimmering stones that lined the wall beside me. Of course, my hand was damp with sweat and slipped right off.

"Doggone it!" I cried. That was the second hand I'd lost that week. I watched it tumble into the abyss like a dropped glove. Where was I going to get a new hand at this hour & in this pit? The shimmering stones would have to wait. I called Doc Bierhals my prosthetics man to ask

for a pair of hands. He quickly arrived at the scene and my hands were good as new. Now time to grab the shimmering stones and complete the Million Mitten. Not as great as the Infinity Gauntlet, but it will do. I marvelled at the possibilities of what I could do.

For the first time in my life, I felt scared of my own powers. There was too much uncertainty in my future. Will people millions of years later see my actions as a blunder?

Will they hate me for my lack of control? Will people even care what I did? I couldn't find any answers because there were no books, not that I could go ask around because I was still in high school and my parents wouldn't let me leave unless there was an emergency.

My plan involved an open window, shoe box and the classroom hamster. "Hammy seems to have escaped." I pointed at the window. "I'll get him." I said, holding up the box (the Hamster was, of course, already in the box). Once home my parents hugged me. Then yelled about the hamster.

Void Homework

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Paz Waz

zeej qooj

Zoe Becker

A long time ago,
In a land called Kentucky,
There once lived a man,
Who wasn't very lucky,
And one day he fell,
Right into a well,
And his situation was very yucky.

‘Twas a lovely spring day, with confidence I say, and the well was crumbling apart. His woman had said, “Our love is now dead,” and this statement broke the man’s heart.

It turned into fall, and she built up a wall, to keep the poor man away. He gave out a call, asked her out to the ball, he just wanted her to stay.

She was appalled, as he was completely bald, and nothing he did could hide it. That is why on the floor she was sprawled, and completely enthralled, by the shine his hairless dome could emit.

“Yes, Madam,” he said. “I am proud of my smooth shiny chrome dome. I embrace my hairless head. My secret? Moisturizing sunscreen applied four times a day.”

"Just what I wanted to hear," she said. "I'm a photographer & I have a series in mind: art's greatest sculptures reflected in a shiny bald head. It will involve lots of travel, but I'm willing to pay every expense. Will you work with me?" He nodded, sun gleaming off his noggin.

This man must be crazy! In fact she was so shocked by this proposal that she immediately accepted it, and off they went snapping photos of great works of art reflected on his shiny bald head all over the world. It went viral on social media, with many replicating the duo’s deeds.

The idea was so outlandish and funny that as originators they made millions. Before long he was spending thousands of dollars a week getting his bald head waxed and shined so that the reflections remained sharp. On the downside the skin on his scalp was now thinning.

As it thinned, the capillaries in it slowly began bursting. This initially left him looking a bit like a young Mikhail Gorbachev, but as time went on the red deepened in color and the entirety of his scalp from his eyebrows up was the color of port.

The colouration didn’t stop there. Over the following weeks it permeated downwards, the pigmentation changing colour every day. Some muted, some pastel, some lurid. Eventually, when two small circles of original skin on the balls of his feet finally closed up the process was over

Full-sheathed in kaleidoscope skin, heart throbbing painful under coils of panic, he steps forward but staggers, slips - now lands, one knee in mud. Like this, he stays. Day becomes like a flashing strobe. In time, his skin becomes keratinous and jagged, but ever more vibrant.

He sheds his crusted skin in a flurry of motion, and all at once his creamy center is exposed. He is now a squishy baby, ensconced in a slimy finish, with wide, wondering eyes, and mouth agape. His metamorphosis is complete.

The Art of the Bald Head

Aan Oberoi

Alex Ramir

Once upon a time (which was actually 2 weeks ago) I had woken up to the sound of explosions, and I look out the windows to see someone robbing a bank!

“Everybody hands up! Get on the floor!” The scene would be so much different were it on the dancefloor. But this was no dancefloor. A masked man brandished his pistol. “Give me all your money! All of it!”

"I don't mean to be a troublemaker," said a woman in the back, "but how can we give you our money while we are laying down with our hands up?" Others slowly agreed, "Yeah! How can we do all 3 at once?" "This is bogus!" yelled a kid. "Totes bogus," agreed the woman. The robber did

curse out loud while pulling one of the captives up.
"Keep a lookout, men!" he yelled to his team of other robbers.
"Show me where the money is, do it quietly, and no funny business, or you won't be able to see how far my shotgun will make your head fly!" he threatened a captive.

The bank teller directed the robbers towards the safe. “Okay, now open it!” “I can’t, I don’t have the password! Only the guard knows the password!” “Don’t you play with me, boy! Open the safe!” Sirens blared across the hallway. Turns out someone pressed the button. “For Pete’s-”

Coffee you have some pretty serious security!”, the robber said. “Sir, this is a bank! And is that gun you’re waving a nerf toy?”, the teller asked. The robber’s eyes went wide, he cursed, and sprinted for the exit, only to find…

There was a large crowd of police outside the door, all wielding water guns. The robber was wearing his most expensive ski mask, so he surrendered immediately. At the holding cell, he was alowed to make one phone call, and the robber called...

his mother, sobbing with tears in his eyes, he exclaimed to her, “Mom you were right, I was not destined to be a robber, See Mom, I have been caught and am at the mercy of the policemen,”he lamented. He knew in his heart of hearts that his last attempt at robbery had been foiled.

The kid’s pursuer, still some ways off, slowed. Tilted an ear. A sound - to him, like a pig’s whimper when time for butchering come. Unmistakable. Lawman hadn’t savored sound like that since ages ago. Time to hunt; time to catch. Then, time enough to make a sinner learn to shriek

until it turns to breathless silence. Lawman’s toes curled in his boots at the mere thought. Pleasure stormed his veins. His mouth twisted up into a sinister grin as he savored the imagery for another fleeting moment. And then, just as quickly, he was off.

Nerfs Up

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ayesha wells

Jim ran a hand through his hair, “Bro I’m telling you, there’s just no way any chick can say no to the Jimster”. Eric rolled his eyes so far, they almost got stuck at the back of his head. “Get that girl’s number then, and you get bragging rights and $50,” Eric pointed ahead.

Game on, thought Jim. He sauntered over to the girl in the far corner of the room. "So... you breathe oxygen?" he asks, smugly. She looks at him quizzically and swiftly turns back around to face her friends, trying desperately not to laugh. Ok, time for Plan B.

The pill? Why would he need one? It’s not like he’s going to score or anything. In addition to a rubber ravioli in his shirt pocket, he couldn’t be too careful. He downed a few beers which gave him a massive boost in confidence. He walked up to that smoking hot blonde lady again.

“So, ahhh, I’ve been thinking,” he said to her “you’re hot, I’m friendly, why don’t we get to know each other better?” She gave him a half-smile, and looked him over. Then he screwed it all up with a few simple words:

“Wanna grab some pineapple pizza with me?” “Pineapple pizza? You sick freak! Get away from me!” The poor guy should have known that pineapple does not belong anywhere on pizza. He had committed a major faux pas. In all seriousness he would have been better off asking for her age.

She stormed off, stomach turning at the thought of his offer. Maybe some sparking water would help. She ducked into a corner store & perused the aisles for something fizzy. Oh no, she thought, that jingle—"In a tizzy? Grab something fizzy, like Sofa Cola!"—now it was in her head!

She quickly took out her phone and put on some music to fend off the Sofa Cola™ earworm she found herself with. Soon the jingle was out of her head, and she was able to grab some sparkling water in peace. But little did she know, they were completely out! Now what will she drink?

Reluctantly, she opened the door to the pantry—a place she seldom visited—and a wall of Sofa Cola™ crashed over her. “You ready to rock?” she scarcely heard from a corporate Sofa Cola musician, who continued without waiting for a response, “then drink up and take a seat!”

A Hot Slice of Heartbreak

I’ve done it. I’ve secured the last Seasonal Goat Cheese Lover’s collection from the local creamery just in time for Christmas. It’s $50, but it’s worth it. At last, my spouse will know how much I still adore her and her penchant for the cheese of goats. Perhaps,

that fairy's curse won't come true after all. Maybe she understood I obliterated her home with the lawnmower purely by accident. Maybe Aunt Zoja was wrong & fairies really can be forgiving. I wrap my wife's Christmas present with a whistle, tying the bow just as she comes home.

“So, darling, what’s the best way to apologize to an angry sprite?” She tapped her cheek and thought. “Maybe an arrangement of micro greens? Or a thimble full of homemade soup? Uncle Zanzibar swore by peppercorns, but his dealings were with leprechauns.”

“No, that’s not it,” she thought long and hard. “Hmm, I’ve got it!” She put some mentos on the floor. “Here spritey spritey! Here’s candy!” The sprite approached the candy. Poor decision. She grabbed the sprite by the neck and shoved it in the freezer with the other soda bottles.

This did not work, of course, as the fridge was already completely full of Pepsi. This made the sprite so angry it literally exploded, leaving half the kitchen in ruin.

Must have been the work of Bart Simpson, who was snickering the whole time. “April Fools!” “Why you little—“ an instantly recognisable voice rang. Homer was dead set on getting him back for that one, and he wouldn’t stop until he had his hands round his neck.

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TurtleGameMaste r@turtlegamemaster

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