Happy New Year

“Happy Holidays, welcome to Burgerrama, what can I get you?”

“A Triple Ramadama burger. No bun, extra bacon.”

“Certainly. Would you like a double mint smoothie? They’re our new item for the holidays.”

“Is it sweet?”

“Sweet enough to put an elephant into a diabetic coma. But I take it from your horror-stricken face that that isn’t what you’re looking for. May I suggest something from our line of healthy beverages?”

“Nah - water will do.”

“Excellent - that’s our best seller in the healthy beverage category. Anything else?”

“No - that’s it.”

“That’s $24.95 please. Hope to see you next year!”

Pod, Cast, Phenomenon

As I hurtle through the atmosphere of this strange planet, safely ensconced in my life pod, I wonder what strange creatures, what odd phenomenon, I’ll encounter. My antennae twitch in anticipation.

The reasons I’ve been sent alone is totally political - The Grand Mind is upset that I suggested this planet is worth studying. I’m being taught a lesson. But I’ll return vindicated - there is research-worthy subjects here.

My pod, having plowed a trench in this strange field during landing, opened and literally kicked me out.

I get it. I’ve been cast out. This isn’t a research mission - it’s banishment.

Air, Seep, Maintain

Three years ago, when I bought my undersea home, I thought it was the greatest thing ever: views of ocean life in every single window, easy-to-maintain climate control, and advanced electronics throughout.

The two things to watch for are air seeping out and water seeping in, and when one is happening, generally the other is too. The water displaces the air, which is bad for air-breathing creatures.

Yesterday, I found water where there isn’t supposed to be any. But wouldn’t you know it, when I called the helpline for repairs, I was told it’d be two weeks!

Band, Rock, Fall

They say that when you’re falling a long distance, like when you’re sucked out of an airplane at 30,000 feet, you have a lot of time to think, to contemplate life.

It’s true. Sort of.

I don’t know why it’s called “falling like a rock”. I’m doing nothing of the sort - my arms are flailing, hoping to find something to grab.

You’d think the fear of landing would drive that damn ear worm by that annoying band from my head, but no luck. I’m DJing my demise. Nice.

Is that a ski slope? No trees, awesome slope?

I might live!

Temporary, Mind, Surreal

When computers took charge of the planet and everything on it (to save it from human irresponsibility), an insightful subroutine realized that people wouldn’t simply roll over and play dead; they needed immersive playthings to keep them busy. Enclosures, if not of body, then of mind.

The first VR headsets were a temporary fix: no better than the clumsy “state-of-the-art” things produced at the time. They, and the software used to power them, improved quickly. Test subjects described the new setup as “surreal” and “better than reality”.

Humanity willingly created individual digital kingdoms while relinquishing temporal control.

Ancient, Grapple, Need

An ancient curse. An unwilling heroine. A mysterious stranger with a dark past... 

Floyd stared at the paper in disgust. Seconds later, that same paper, now crumpled into a little ball, was thrown into the fireplace.

Downing another shot of inspiration, he stared at yet another blank page.

A near death experience causes a middle-aged account executive to grapple with the need to provide for his family. Law-abiding citizen turns bank robber.

Another paper ball flew towards the fire.

“Have I lost my genius?”, Floyd asked himself.

“Nope. Just wasted.”, said his genius.

They both passed out, drunk.

Game, Waste, Shot

“Hey Little Bro. You’re working on your Christmas Wish List.”

“Yup. I want a firetruck an’ a stack of comics an’ a…”

“Ok… we can work with that. But you have to add some super expensive stuff.”

“Why?”

“It’s a game, see? Put down expensive stuff and that forces Mom and Dad to not get it, so they get you more of the stuff you really want to make up for it. See?”

“Really? What should I put down?”

“We only get one shot at this, so we can’t waste it. Put down a go-cart.”

“I don’t want that!”

Reindeer, Cookie, Tree

“Grandpa, what’cha hangin’ on the tree?”

“A reindeer.”

“Which one?”

“Clyde.”

“There’s no ‘Clyde’ reindeer.”

“Sure there is. Reindeer are teamed up in pairs: Dasher and Dancer and all that. Clyde’s next to Rudolph.”

“But Rudolph’s nose glows bright and…”

“And Clyde has radar. Good team.”

“…”

“Rudolph plays the victim: that whole ’no one will play with me’ thing. Not so. Rudolph is upper crust. Highfalutin. Rudolph’s PR team make you pity him, so he’s popular. But no one remembers Clyde.”

“Hi Mom! Grandpa’s been tellin’ me ‘bout…”

“Yes, I heard. Dad - have you been eating my medicinal cookies again?"

Char, Skin, Myth

His fellow monster hunters call him “Sniffles”. Apprenticed two years ago, he hasn’t gotten over his fear of hunting, battle, and killing.

Today’s target is a troll. The client is a farmer tired of losing sheep.

And Sniffles will lead the hunt.

“It’s said that their skin is six inches thick!”, Sniffles mentioned to his boss, Stonechin.

“Myth”, the boss replied. “It’s only three inches.”

*Gulp*

“We could burn it…?”

Stonechin grabbed Snuffles by the collar. “Troll skin don’t char. It heals quick. So we fight it until dawn and the Sun will turn it to rock. Got it?”

*Sniffle*

Soil, Missing, Shed

There have been many iconic portrayals of law enforcement on TV over the years: Dragnet’s Joe Friday, Hawaii Five-O’s Steve McGarrett, and Ace Ventura: Pet Detective. Inspired by these heroes, I decided to become a private investigator. For plants.

Two days ago, I responded to a police call I intercepted on my scanner. I rushed out to our local greenhouse: prize tulips had gone missing.

I made my way to Shed 3. During my examination of the pots, including the soil, a member of staff approached. “Are you the police?”

“No sir. Private Plant Detective.”

“Stay there. Security!”

Pain, Slab, Immediate

The light. Follow the Light. It’s beautiful. Peaceful. I feel light.

I can sit up. And yet I can look down on myself. Aarr - I don’t remember what did that, but it must’ve hurt.

Right… a cannonball smashed through the ship’s hull…

Belowdecks. I’d gone below to assess damage.

Battle. Pirate hunters. I remember.

Black Jack Thomas. I’m the Captain. I lead this motley crew! Without me, they’re dead!

Get me off this slab.

Agony! Gods that hurts!

Follow the pain! Embrace it! Gah!!!

“Get me above decks ya lily-livered worms! Immediately!!”

“But Captain! We won!”

“Aarr… *cough*”

“Medic!”

Rich, Cowl, Heat

On the longest night of the year, Lord Roke’s habit was to slip out of his castle disguised in a ragged cloak and cowl and observe the people under his care. Did they have sufficient food? Heat? Clothing? And on the day after, presents flowed from the castle to meet the needs he’d seen.

Other noblemen thought him a fool, to treat his townspeople as family, to not eat rich food, count gold, and rule with an iron fist. He thought them foolish for creating division and hardship needlessly.

It’s not the role of a leader to behave terribly.

Garden, Fish, Hostile

In the Garden of Eden, two massive trees (not the ones you’re thinking of) shaded the beach of a fish-laden oasis. It was a perfect beach complete with a fibreglass paddleboat.

More technologies were lost in the Flood than have been acknowledged by the Illuminati-controlled world governments.

But I digress.

One day, as the young couple took in a paddle, the (sea) serpent staged an accident with the boat. Despite Adam and Eve’s apologies, the serpent insisted that they were irresponsible and should pay a fee in case of future accidents.

This hostile act created the insurance industry.

Second, Absolute, Juice

Excuse me - do you have a second? Hi, I’m James and I’d like to direct your attention to this new product that I think you and your family will absolutely enjoy.

I see you’re busy: you have two little ones going in three different directions and it smells like this little guy in the trolley might have a special gift waiting for you, but if you’ll allow me to tell you about this miracle juice made from eighteen different superfoods, it’ll change your family’s health for the better.

Ok - have a nice day! Thanks for listening!

Damn… no sales today.

Squash, Creek, Chase

A thin skin of ice turned the normally green field white; a heavy frost kept everyone in their burrows. Phineas Rabbit stuck his tender pink bunny nose out into the cold and immediately pulled back; Jack Frost was more than nipping.

“Dad! We’re hungry!”

“I know, little ones, but there isn’t much available right now…”

“But Dad!”, was the plaintive reply.

“I suppose”, he admitted unwillingly, “that I could cross Chester Creek, raid Farmer Brown’s disgusting squashes, get chased by hound dogs, and maybe, just maybe, bring home a bit or two.”

“Thanks, Dad!"

That didn’t go how I wanted…

Kitchen, Clean, Now

“Hey Vern. Know what I wonder?”

“What?”

“This housing complex has 1,000 residential units, right?”

“Sure.”

“And a kitchen to every 100 of ‘em, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Custodial staffing appropriate to the need."

“Ok.”

“Right. So how is it that there’s one scullery in the whole damn place and it’s just you and me in it. Huh?”

“Didn’t the judge explain it to ya?”

“Oh, the old turd flopped his waddle this way and that. But he didn’t say nothin’ about this.”

“Judge told me my crimes meant I’d be in here from ‘now to eternity’. What o’clock is eternity?”

“Seriously?”

Leave, Bullet, Partake

“Ok class - here’s a brain teaser for you:

“Let’s say a shot is fired on the ultimate bullet train, moving at the fastest speed any object can move - the speed of light - which means the gun is also moving at the speed of light. But the bullet, as we can see when it leaves the muzzle of the gun, is traveling away from the gun at some high velocity, which means it’s traveling faster than light speed. How is that? Who will partake in answering this conundrum?

“Anyone?

“A hint - Einstein says the bullet doesn’t violate any physics laws.

“Anyone?”

Solitary, Punch, Down

Becoming a warrior requires hours of solitary practice. This practice is more than training the body; the mind must become the sharpest weapon of all.

To keep a calm attitude in the face of danger, even overwhelming lethal peril, is a victory over self. It then becomes a matter of employing hard-won skills to defeat any attacker.

It is not enough to know how to kick and punch; be alert at all times. The eyes must look forward, neither up nor down, with the spirit aware of its surroundings.

Do not look to fight, but don’t avoid it either.

Panic, Sister, Watch

“Can I watch?”

The voice of my daughter, aged five, walking into my workshop normally would’ve been welcome. Today however, no; I was deep into a battle robot build and danger didn’t just lurk in the shadows; it beckoned with open arms.

“Sweetie? How about you play with your sister?”

“Nah. Mom said you were doing cool stuff down here.”

As she took her third step into my space, she reached for the red-handled flame thrower. Goodbye politeness, hello panic.

“No! Stop!”

She looked at me, hand hovering above flaming death.

“Sarah? Don’t move. Let me come to you.”

Guarantee, Shock, Travel

So I go to the office where they sell travel insurance and after waiting for like, I don’t know, maybe two hours, I was busy watching videos on my phone, and this guy finally calls me over and he’s this giant smile, ya know, all gleaming whites, and he looks me over after I tell him I’m going to the moon and I want full coverage and he gives me the quote and I’m shocked that it’s as cheap as it is so I start to play quiz guy ‘cause there’s no way it’s full coverage.

Turns out it’s legit.

Farce, Camaraderie, Buffalo

My friends and I are misfits, but we came together; a camaraderie centred on smarts and farce.

The other day, we were deliberately overheard talking about Buffalo Dances in China.

“There’s no such thing”, said our target.

“Sure there is.”, I said. “Dragon dances in the spring and Buffalo in the fall.”

Her face showed scepticism.

“Where do you think the American Indians came up with the idea? And they’re ancestors of Asians, right?”

“Yeah… I guess you’re right!”

To cap it off, we all started dancing like buffalos, but we were laughing so hard we couldn’t keep it up.

Conduit, Faint, Essential

Madame Margot’s patron, Oligarch Pierce, loomed over the table, cross-armed. Beside him, face yearning, his wife sat erect and alert, hopeful. Margot knew her future, not only as a conduit to the spirit world but as a living, breathing member of the physical one, depended on finding (or faking believably) information about their dead son. Or was it daughter? Should’ve taken better notes…

Never one to work well under pressure, Margot began to plot a way out of the situation. It was essential that whatever happened, it be realistic. Merely falling faint wouldn’t do it.

Maybe a spiritual assault?

Broad, Champion, Dear

The Duke of Buckingham’s Christmas party was not only the social event of the year but the one occasion when Lady Buckingham’s nemesis, Lady Williston, came to the castle.

During the rest of the year, letters would fly back and forth, starting with “Dear _____” but filled with cold insults and back-handed compliments. Buckingham considered herself the champion of the contest if Williston acted the boor, the broad, the cow, during the party.

She’d won six years running.

Time to ensure her win for a seventh. A letter reminding her of her dreadful behaviour last year should do the trick.

Mash, Beautiful, Accident

“Hey Beautiful! I’m home!”

“You’re early! What’s the occasion?”

“You know that “blank number of days since an accident” placard the boss put up?”

“It’s been up for a year and never gotten beyond twenty days?”

“That’s the one. Reset again today.”

“Anyone hurt?”

“Nah. Close call though. The company was too cheap to calibrate the flywheel on the main shaft as part of regular maintenance; it disintegrated today. Little pieces of flying metal everywhere.”

“Please stop working there!”

“But the good news is that Wanda’s mashed thumb is almost healed! She’ll be working the press again in no time.”

Wake, Insist, Hen

“C’mon hon. It’s cold out. Don’t get up. It’s not like Farmer Jones wants you out there today.”

“Hen? Why do you insist that I not get up on cold mornings? It’s my job. The sun goes up, I wake up, and then greet the day. It’s the way of the world.”

“Get over yourself. Ok - I’ll give the farmer an extra little something today.”

“Bribe Farmer Jones?”

“It’s cold outside! C’mon back, nest-le in, and keep me warm.”

“Sorry, but it’s my pride and duty to venture forth, even if it’s cold. Rooster got to crow! Bwabwa Bwabwa!”

Part, Closet, Reflect

‘Coming out of the closet’ is not simply a matter of opening a door and revealing who you truly are. Oh no. It’s a door that refuses to open until there comes a point when it’s wrenched off the hinges in a way you can’t control. At least not completely.

Some people stare at body parts and think that’s all there is. Others know better - that one plus one doesn’t apply.

And on reflection, it isn’t just one closet. For each person, each family member, each friend (not in the know), there’s a door.

Doors don’t get easier to open.

Charge, Hut, Prior

“In my prior life as a high-powered attorney, I had money. I drove a car worth more than some small towns, lived in a house worth more than some small countries, and schmoozed with the rich and famous. But it all changed when I drove my car off a bridge with my blood alcohol off the charts.

“That’s why I live in this hut on this beach and eat from the bounty of the fruit trees nearby. It’s heavenly. And why I spend my time offering up advice, without charge, to people like yourself.”

“Except I didn’t ask. Thanks.”

Still, Cynical, Folk

“You’ve made an amazing record. Now we need to promote it. And one thing to decide is what type of music it is. You know: classical, rock, pop, etc.”

“What’cha thinkin’?”

“Well… it’s a tough one. You’ve got still and peaceful bits…”

“Yup. Wind through the trees and all that.”

“… and that banjo bit. Totally folk…”

“Yeah. Could be.”

“… but we also need to factor in your look. The tattoos. The three foot high mohawk died red. This is not a folksy look.”

“Yeah.”

“A cynical person might dump your work into “rock”. I’m thinking we go with “world music”.

Committee, Linger, Flu

“Testing 1-2-3. Can someone from the back wave if you can hear me? Ok… great. Thanks. Let’s get started.

“Welcome to the first meeting of the Flu Containment Committee for southern Ohio. As we know, the infection season is approaching and is expected to be bad this year… yes?”

“My name is Luther Van Nodestone and I’d like to present a medicine that will help keep this disease from lingering in our community.”

“Ok - thanks. We’ll have brainstorming in small groups later in the day and… yes?”

“This drug, ‘NotAPlacebo’, is inexpensive, …”

“Please sit down, Luther. Now then…”

Circumspect, Sloth, Preeminent

Lord Malcolm, First Minister to His Majesty, King Leopold the Bold, Guardian of the Realm, and Preeminent Poet of the Highest Order, bowed and scraped as he left the Royal Dining Room, where His Majesty was breaking his fast on roasted sloth. “Yuck”, thought the Minister. “That’s a dinner food.”

Lord Malcolm had brought bad news. Given His Majesty’s predilection for killing First Ministers who brought bad news, Malcolm had circumspectly presented it. Treating the message like a play, Malcolm was in Act III by the time Leopold begged for the full message.

Malcolm kept his head for another day.

Sweet, Hyper-,Idiot

Sweet tea. Sweet Fucking Tea. I’ve had like, I don’t know, a gallon. Maybe. I’m sweating like it’s a Florida summer, my eyeballs are protruding like I’m a goddam fucking lizard thing. What’s it called? A. A. A. Ah fuck! The whatever fucking lizard thing! Black tea. Why does no one mention the word “black” in the name of this shit. Huh? Why? Why? Why? I don’t know why. But it sucks to find out after drinking a fucking lake’s worth of it. I’m an idiot! Brain’s on hyperdrive. Lemur! Not a lizard. Chameleons! Yeah, that’s the ticket. Fuck me!

Stencil, Staple, Upset

“Mom, you’re clearly upset. So what’s up?”

“Nothing!”

Disbelief dripped from her daughter’s response. “Nothing. Really.”

“It’s… you know the stencil I’ve been working on for the past two days?”

“No…”

“Yes you do! The Disney castle in acrylic! Lines so fine you can almost see Mickey and Minnie Mouse at the ramparts.”

“Uh…”

“Someone, and I’m not saying who, used it as an underlay when using a stapler.”

“Ohhh…”

“Holes everywhere. But it’s ok, you know, because it wasn’t all that important.”

“Shit.”

“So maybe I’ll just, I don’t know, have a broken castle!”

“Mom?”

“What?”

“It was Dad.”

City, Bounce, Wind

How do you handle a birthday party that thousands of kids will attend? Go big on the activities.

That’s what the world’s youngest billionaire (aged twelve - a series of viral video games had given him capital to become incredibly rich) figured when he invited all the kids from a mid-sized city to attend his party. The upshot was an event bigger than most town fairs: games, rides, a small city of bouncy castles. It was going to be awesome.

Until the weather disagreed, with high winds making the event impossible.

So he chartered planes to take everyone to Disneyland. 

Foreshadow, Crackle, Public

“Why are we staying here?”, the magic-user asked. “This is stupid.”

“I don’t know. It’s kinda cool.”, the cleric replied.

The fight between the D&D players involved the inn where the party had gathered. The sign out front had a man standing in full sun, with a shadow pointing towards the Sun: the ForeShadow Inn.

“Ok - you’re in the Public Room and there’s a fire crackling in the hearth. Roll for perception…”, said the DM,”… and Rocko Padfoot notices the fire starts to tinge towards blue. What do you do?”

The players began debating what it might mean.

Space, Crock, Famished

Myles raised his hands in frustration. “We don’t have enough crocks of shit!”

Jane glared. “Well at least I’m not constipated!”

The last two passengers on a wayward space liner, they were trying to survive. While Jane’s inventory revealed food stocks that would carry them for six months, they had to make that food stretch for two years.

Constantly famished, they planted potato and other root vegetables on the main deck, using their own waste as fertilizer. But, as Myles just noticed, the makeshift farm was perhaps too big.

They didn’t dare ask if fluorescent lights would grow plants. 

Suppose, Launch, Vegetable

I suppose it was inevitable.

Customer demand for things “more natural” than organic produce sparked the imagination of some snake oil salesman somewhere and led to Free Range Vegetables.

Seriously.

The launch of their products sparked debate among health food aficionados concerning their benefits. Nutrient load, fibre content, and pesticide presence were among the most discussed attributes. Cost, oddly enough, was rarely mentioned (although this isn’t all that surprising since it was Silicon Valley millionaires who were the initial target customer).

Free Range Fruits will soon be released. However, at $150 per apple, for example, don’t expect to afford it.

Scope, Wad, Tin

Some play paintball with reckless abandon, running around, shouting, shooting at everything that moves. That isn’t the game I know and love.

I sit in my enclosure, a tin of carefully selected (and slightly modified) paintballs at the ready. Each one of these beauties will decorate a target and they will know that they were shot by me.

There’s movement about 20 yards off. I scope in and… someone’s about to be shot in the back. I spit out my wad of chew, line up the shot and… gotcha. An acrylic technicolour swirl is my gift to you today.

Dash, Pinto, Crawl

It’s an unusual Escape Room to say the least. Usually staged in a single room, this one’s in the bowels of a building complex. Aside from puzzles requiring logic, there are other tasks that call on physicality: dashing across a room while avoiding targeting lasers, crawling through air ducts, balancing on pipes, that sort of thing.

I’ve made my way to what I figure is the final room with ten minutes to spare. On the wall is one word, Pinto. Ten bowling pins sit opposite.

Maybe it’s PinTwo?

As I pick up pin two, a trapdoor opens beneath me.

Crap.

Strategy, Fold, Behaviour

Off to another poker tournament to make a million over the course of a weekend. But this isn’t Kenny Roger’s poker strategy - that whole “hold ‘em, fold ‘em” thing. The game starts long before the first hand is dealt.

I always assume surveillance is upon me as soon as I start travelling (and frequently long before) so I control my behaviour; I don’t have poker face - I have poker attitude. I’ve defeated players simply because they defeated themselves and told me they had in their body language.

In fact, the cards are the least important part of the game.

Fascinate, Achieve, Domain

It is said that the gods visit the mortal world via the Rainbow Bridge. So how does a scrawny wisp of a nothing visit the domain of Valhalla, the Hall of the Gods? How does one achieve that which only the children of Sky and Earth are entitled?

It is also said that a leprechaun’s gold sits at the end of the rainbow. But what if it isn’t the end but instead the beginning?

It is also said that the most fascinating treasures are guarded by the fiercest of dragons.

Does anyone know where I can find a fierce dragon?

Key, Smoke, Danger

The world of Public Service Announcements might have been different if Smokey the Bear hadn’t been chosen to alert the public to the danger of forest fires and their causes. The calm paternalistic bear influenced the creation of spokes-creatures that came after.

But what if one of the alternate characters had been chosen?

Martin the Rabid Squirrel would have been furious at people who left campfires burning unattended, foaming at the mouth and threatening to bite offenders. The draft script was rated R for language.

Calm rationality and the appeal to children were key for Smokey getting the job. 

Brand, Chosen, Qualify

Howdy, Mister and Missus America. Cowboy Jones here, talking about the epitome of what you can stuff between two pieces of your favourite baked good: Vegamazing brand Soy Burgers.

You may wonder how it is that Vegamazing brand Soy Burgers are so good. Let me tell ya, it’s a demanding process.

Each and every soy bean is inspected, making sure they are at the peak of ripeness. Many beans are called but few are chosen.

But it don’t stop there. To qualify as a Vegamazing Soy Burger, it has to be perfectly juicy and tasty.

Buy and barbecue! You’ll love’em.

One, Year, Story

Victoria Pleasure, author of romantic novels targeting love-starved middle-aged women, paused typing as her best friend wandered into the study.

“Hey there Vick, what’s the story this time? Hunk-a-hunk-a meets a Victorian beauty? Or a Parisian beauty? Or an Arabic beauty? Do tell.”

“Oh Roxanne, you’re incorrigible!”

“Someone has to be! It’s been a year since your last release… oh my!… and I’m simply pent up waiting to read your next one!”

“I’ve decided to write this one from a new vantage: adventurous female protagonist meets bookish academic and they…”

Roxanne looked shocked.

“Kidding!”

Acid, Property, Greed

Three chemists walk into a bar.

No, this isn’t a joke. Chemists blow off steam the same way other people do. To think otherwise dehumanizes scientists.

Ahem.

They grab a corner table and talk about their latest discovery:

“So what shall we call it? It’s certainly an acid, given its composition.”

“We should name it according to its properties and not after a composite of our last names.”

“Yeah - who’d remember SmithKleinBeecham Acid? It should have a sexy name, like SvelteGoddess Acid.”

“Your greed is turning your brain to mush. Or is it what you’re drinking?”

“A quadruple vodka?”

Recall, Muddle, Egregious

My mind is broken. Every event, action, thought, mood are all stored. As I grow older and more material is held, the pressure to remember, to reimmerse, grows. There will come a day when I enter the past and not reemerge. Worse yet, it’s likely to be an egregious event that swallows me and refuses to let go.

I long to forget, or at least have details muddle. To have the mental pressure let up, even for a moment, would be a blessing. It’s my curse to never have that happen.

Am I writing this or only remembering doing so?

Correspond, Upshot, Fluffy

The smell of parchment and ink, the scratching of a quill pen, the quiet popping of a small fire in the grate. A small fluffy Pomeranian in his lap, snoring softly.

The letter was full of “my dear friend” and “with all due respect”, but the upshot of the correspondence was a complaint to a craftsman in London about the poor workmanship of a recently purchased carriage. Wheels, after all, should be perfectly round and not elliptical, however slight.

The response, although not yet written, will certainly be full of “not responsible for wear and tear”.

This could take months.

Chill, Express, Mine

“Double soy half-caff espresso with a lemon twist!”

As I reach for my drink, another patron reaches for it too.

“Excuse me”, I say politely, “I’ve been waiting twenty minutes for my drink. I’m late for work as it is and…”

“Puh-lease!”, said the mouth, trying to be cool and chill but the face was anything but. “I’ve been waiting thirty minutes for mine, that is it, so excuse me for not discussing this further.”

Two hands pulling a small takeaway cup in two different directions equals spilled coffee everywhere.

Too bad there isn’t an express coffee service.

Invoke, Jalopy, Quaint

“I invoke our Friendship Agreement.”

“What friendship agreement?”

“I need you to get hold of a jalopy - the rustier the better.”

“No - really. Let’s back up here.”

“I’ll drive it into Johnsonville, the most quaint town for 100 miles.”

“Brad? Are you listening to me?”

“And that will position me as one of theirs from a different small town.”

“Have you been sniffing leaded gasoline again?”

“And with that connection, I’ll be able to become mayor.”

“Brad? Seriously, I’m calling 911.”

“From there, it’s a hop, skip, and jump to the governorship and then President.”

“I’m dialing.”

“I’ll be King!”

Crush, Ripple, Dress

A first date. Like ever. Oh man. I’m going out with Samantha Taylor! I’ve had such a crush on her ever since junior high and now we’re going out! This is so great!

What should I wear? Will she wear a dress? Or jeans? Should I wear jeans? Man this sucks!

And Dad will be driving us! He’s such a dork! Oh man this sucks!

I think about her and this little ripple in my stomach starts… ugh this sucks.

And I’ve got sweat pouring from every pore… and it stinks! Man this…

“Jordon? You ready? We gotta leave, Bud.”

Lantern, Sky, Hope

As I write this, sporadic fireworks sound from afar, denoting celebrations far and wide. Commonly referred to as Loy Khratong, it’s the time of year when lanterns float into the sky, carrying with them the fears and anxieties of what life might bring. This part of the holiday is properly called Yi Peng.

Loy Khratong is the part of the holiday involving the building and floating of small decorated bamboo boats, often with small candles. It’s said that these boats help to bring hope and luck and also appease the water gods for the polluting of the waterways. 

Diet, Gouge, Nuisance

Of all the deliberative bodies throughout history, it was the the Diet of the Ramathusian Territory that racked up the biggest body counts. The delegates routinely fought duels over trivial matters of policy; the pen may be mightier than the sword, but swords are longer and sharper.

Counsellor Thumpkin found the fights, both with swords and words, tiresome and a nuisance. He resolved to unite the Territory under a single ruler: him.

His first plan was to gouge a hole in anyone who got in his way. But he was a terrible swordsman. Plan B: buy everyone off.

It worked.

Fry, Propose, Turn

As Marcus followed the spitting and spattering sounds of frying, his nose started sniffing automatically, taking in corn meal and herbs. “Smells good”, he thought. “She needs my help.”

Patti, his new wife, was battering the next round of catfish. “Hey hun, how was your nap?”

“Lovely. May I propose that you use flour with the batter? It’ll taste better.”

She flashed a quick irritated smile. “You may. But corn meal it is. Might I suggest that you set the table?”

“You can. But how about you listen to my suggestion…”

“And you can turn around and exit my kitchen.”