Some candles are put in windows in order to keep out the wind. They’re called drafters and they mimic forcefields, not unlike those on starships. My grandmother had one and said to not remove it lest the Bell Witch come inside.
I figured I was wise on her and that she just didn’t want me to catch cold during slumber. But it was hot in the room so I removed the drafter and cracked the window.
Just in case, I grabbed a clove of garlic from the nightstand and cuddled it under my chin.
As if my grandmother had planned it, a shadow floated inside the room straight from the window that I had opened!
The cloak in the shadow separated from the figure and I was soon draped over my bed in a quilt that smelled like synthetic rose oil with a hint of cod.
When what I assumed was the witch reached my face, her hand grabbed the garlic, placed it in her mouth, and then turned into a cat and turn into a mouse and turned into neon gas which I inhaled accidentally while gasping.
Consequently, if you and I are talking and sulfur is visible on my breath, do not listen to me as I will say nothing but horseshit.

On a Tuesday morning in 1842, a witch named Edgar found himself in the middle of a stabbing field (called such by farmers for the hard stalks of corn left behind after harvest). He knew not how he got there or why he had a hard time standing. Once upright, his precarious gait allowed him to walk the line of a pendulum hooked to an S-track, giving him a chance to be impaled on a broken stalk of corn.
Two crows watched until the buzzards moved them.
Edgar reached to the ground as if reaching for dirt and broke his fall. A fondness for crawling ensued and his shoes made sled tracks across the field.
As he ambled to the edge, the two buzzards began talking. It sounded like English but consonants were missing in too many places to be understood.
Edgar grabbed one by the gooseneck and pulled its beak close to his ear and mimicked a telephone call (he was clairvoyant).
“Hello?” he said as he poked the eyes to get better reception. “Hello? Hello?”
He then slit its throat with his thumbnail and said, “Wrong number.”

There was this young boy named Ralph Red who had pants that would not pull up.
It always looked as though he’d just been potty.
His underwear came up but his pants refused.
“Hello, my name is Ralph Red.”
“Alfred?”
“No, Ralph R-”
“HEY, YOU’RE PANTS ARE DOWN, ASSHOLE!”
“I know. I can’t pull them-”
“ASSHOLE!”

Whenever someone would complain about anything within earshot, Ralph would always reply,
“At least you can pull your pants up.”

c. 2003

Dave was humpin’ it. Really humpin’ it. He had tires that were in one room and
a need for tires in the other room. So he moved the tires as fast as he could.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He was humpin’ it.
Taking a new tire off the rack, spinnin’ round, letting go, and letting it thump into the new tire room.
“Thirty-six, done,” said Dave as he wiped his sweaty eye sockets.
His boss came in and said, “I said I needed two tires by 6:30. Put these back.”
Dave was humpin’ it. Putting thirty-four tires back in their places.
“Thirty-four, done,” said Dave as he wiped his sweaty eye sockets, again.
Dave was humpin’ it in his mind. He never worked in tires his whole life. But
he knew how to work his brain. And he was a self-starter. When you get
trapped in a dungeon there is little work to be done in your brain. The
year was 1389 and he had no idea what tires were. But, when you have nothing
to do but astral project yourself into the future, you learn what tires are and
you count them.

c. 2003

2 cans are waiting on a shelf.
“Have you been dusted?”
(Cans that collect dust must be dusted or no one will buy them.)
“I think so.”
“How come we’ve been here for so long?”
“No one is eating canned field peas with bacon.”
Cans can’t see. They talk by thought. They don’t have souls
and no form of brain although they have minds.
When you open a can, though, it dies and the can’s
mind floats inside the empty reservoir. Forever.

c. 2004

Stanton had a wonderful leg. It was a live leg but with custom prosthetics.
He could open a door on his thigh. It was plastic in thigh flesh. Inside the
door he had kept a key and some gum. When he ran it felt like a bulging pocket.
There was a cap over his ankle bones that contained both a watch and compass.
This made the leg feel faster as the Lose Weight Exercise of the water in the compass centrifuged
as he ran. On the balls of his feet he had magnets that automatically repelled
anything that was attractable. This allowed him to hover like a witch or a ghost or a
showboat vampire.
One time Stanton was walking from the shopping center to his car when someone
yelled his name from the nearby woods. He walked closer to the voice only to
find nothing. So, he walked into the woods.
“Stanton, c’mere. I got something cool to show you.”
The further he walked into the woods the more ghostly the voice sounded.
“Stanton, what’s the difference between a woods and a forest?”
“I don’t know.”
Then, all the leaves fell from the trees like a woman disrobing all at once and
it didn’t scare Stanton as much as make him feel awkward.
“Woods, I feel uncomfortable. It is only July.”
Stanton’s girlfriend ran up to him. She worked out alot.
“Stanton, who are you talking to?”
“Woods.”
“I got something for your thigh drawer.”
“I got something for your thigh drawer.”
And he ignored the woods and the woods couldn’t get the leaves back on the
branches and became sorely embarassed for four months.

c. 2004

Johnson was out with his new rifle that he bought with
saved lunch money. He put his rifle in a guitar case and walked
out into the woods hoping to find something dangerous that
he could shoot in good conscience. He passed by a sick bird
and cradled it in his cupped hand and worried about it’s
mortality with shaky eyes.
He stopped worrying and looked up and thought about who
should be destroyed for harming this bird.
He found a mountain lion with a top hat and knew this
cat had done wrong because of his look.
“Hey there, cat. What’s your deal? You like hurting
little birds?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“This!” and he showed the evidence that demanded some
answers.
“Oh, that,” said the cat. “I was helping it figure out
a word problem.”
“That don’t make no sense at all.” Johnson then lifted
his rifle and pointed at the cat, feeling more Lose Weight Exercise in
his questioning. “One more time, cat! What’s the deal
with hurting little birds?”
The cat tilted his head, gestured his paw in a manner that
anticipated bullshit and replied, “I think I made myself
clear the first-”
BOOM!
And the cat fell.
It was only an accident but Johnson was so excited he looked at the
only being to share his joy with and said,
“Birdy, I killed your enemy in one-felled swoop.”
And the bird vomited and walked away and fell down and slept.
Johnson went to look at his kill and noticed the cat was winking
in it’s death pose.
Johnson cried at the death of the cat and broke his gun by poking holes
in the barrel, turning it into a flute.
He sat next to the cat and composed a dirge on his flutegun, playing it
very sadly. The gun accidently went off when he tooted a high “G” and killed
him.
His ghost walked the forest and eventually he caught up with the cat.
“Hello, cat.”
“Hello, Johnson.”
“I have some Uno cards.”
“I have some free time.”
And the two ghosts visited each other every day that year until The Day of Spirits’
Vacation. They never saw each other again.

c. 2004

More Fan Fiction
I pushed that kid in a puddle. I pushed him and watched his cocky face
became fear as he fell backwards against the backdrop of the recreational complex.
His hands wiped at nothing and he smashed into that dirty, dirty puddle.
What an asshole.
It felt good to see his asshole ass all muddy and shit.
Then, he started crying and that’s when the hate in me turned up. I started
to step on that fucker when someone pulled the back of my shirt.
It was Aquaman and he had this to say, “Even if you can defeat a bully,
don’t defeat him anymore past the line of defeat.”
I helped the bully up and gave him some of my strawberry Go-gurt.

c. 2004

There was this fellow who made sure his surfers surfed every day.
“The waves are good today. Surf!”
Some didn’t want to surf. They moped around on the tasty waves.
“What’s wrong, Higgings? Don’t feel like surfing today?”
“Yes. Of course I do.”
“Because I know a lot of surfers waiting with boards who would love to take your place.”
And this was how it went.
Surfing 12 hours a day, sometimes 2 hours then break, then 4 hours, then break.
One day, a surfer came over to the lifeguard stand and said,
“I don’t think I want to surf anymore.”
And he walked away from the ocean onto the grass and onto the parking lot.
He got into his VW van and drove around the island and got a fishing job. He
worked his way up to captain. Sometimes he waves at his old boss from his dingy
from time to time with anger and cordiality.

PART TWO
When the orcas came to check on the surfers, they realized Higgins wasn’t there.
They became upset and decided to not splash about, creating the waves needed
for the surfers (for the moon had slipped out of orbit, so the tides were
non-existent).
The sad orcas swam aimlessly until one was harpooned and pulled away from the rest.
The other orcas tried biting at the spear but kept slipping off it. When the harpoon
tugging stopped, the answers came.
“Hello, orcas!” yelled Captain Higgins. “I’m just vying for a little attention.
I got you some chum (dead fish soup) for you stomachs and whistles for your
blowholes!”
The harpooned whale was angry only for a little while because foolish pranks are usually
forgiven in the ocean.

c. 2004

A wren took a bath in a puddle next to a curb. It was a perfect puddle. The wren, Susan, came back to this puddle often. One day, a Danish fellow offered a design that did away with curbs on streets which, in theory, would allow safer traffic.
Finding her puddle gone due to reconstruction, Susan was very upset. She flopped in a phantom puddle, not unlike the birds who take dirt baths. She disillusioned herself into being clean and flew home to her nest and then to a wire perch where another bird named Joseph noticed her smell and dirty crest and took pity on her. This caused an incline in the evolution of wrens.
Epilogue: They had sex in the rain. And she made an egg that looked like this.

This bear named Charles ate a carp and swallowed it whole like a snake will do a mouse. The bear became sheepish, seeing a hunter man and tried to explain his folly by growling lowly and tilting his head side to side as if to say,

“Its so bony and not as good as a salmon.”

The man didn’t understand and shot the bear in the shoulder.

The bear growled, “Ouch” and was shot again.

“Ouch”, he growled again.

It turns out that the hunter’s name was also Charles.

The only word a bear can say out loud besides “No” is the word “Oh.”  Charles the hunter couldn’t tell the difference because he didn’t give the bear any credibility to a vocabulary.

This misunderstanding quickly became overshadowed because  a vampire in a bear costume overtook Charles the hunter, sucked him dry, and threw his carcass into the river where it was mistaken for a carp by another bear whose name was Jeff.

Jeff the bear was shot by Jeff the hunter who was drained by the vampire. This repeated again and again until the cycle had finished the circle of common names to the chorus of bears saying “oh”.

A piece of rock fell from a ledge that was perched above a bird’s nest. The nest belonged to an eagle who was barren and took it upon herself to sit on this rock as if it were her egg. Whenever she left the nest she kept a watchful eye for predators. One predator was a weasel who used his hind feet to hold onto a limb while reaching for the rock. He grabbed it quickly and as he pulled himself up he sniffed his prize and realized it had no life and quickly dropped it. The eagle returned to the nest to find the egg had moved on its own and a dash of hope inflated inside the heart of the eagle.

Two birds were chirping the hungry chirp but didn’t want to swoop down on prey and lose the choice position on the wire they were currently holding.
“Hey,” said one bird. “If you go get us a couple of worms, I’ll hold your place for you.”
“Okay,” chirped the other bird.
So, he swooped down and listened to ground for movement, dove into the dirt and plucked out a small yet meaty worm. He did this a second time and soon looked as if he were holding an extra long worm instead of two worms. He had a passing thought of becoming a magician or an illusionist even and then began his flight back to what was the best wire perch. Unfortunately, there were many birds sitting on the wire and he couldn’t find his friend because all birds look alike.
Remember your buddy.

A johnny was walking home after a night at the bar and saw two horses kissing. One of the horses stopped and noticed the fellow staring at him and his date.
The johnny said, “Hey don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying nature.”
And the horse replied, “Enjoy it at home, buddy.”
And then the johnny said, “Well if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you two to horse around then. Excuse me.”
And the horse was offended and reported it to his immediate ranchhand who in turn documented the incident and filed it in a drawer called “Horse Talk Proof”.

Joseph was a man at the bank who was manning his checkbook with notes scribed in the corner about the weather conditions at each transaction.
date: 9/25/28 check #128 to: Woolworth’s for: new socks for all winter debit: $2.00 72 degrees/cloudy
When the bank teller noticed this he said, “This is interesting.” And then looked some more and said, “But, you didn’t scribe the weather conditions on 7/5/28.”
And the man replied, “You’ve obviously mistaken me for someone who cares.”

New York – Anti-Corn Mo demonstrators waving signs that said “Worst Copier Maintenance Job Ever” and “the Companies Nightmare” jeered the singer’s walk into work during the Feels-Like-Friday Thursday.
“It’s ‘company’s nightmare’,” Mo stated. “With an apostrophe ‘s’. And nobody ever died over a paper jam. At least under my watch.”
Three blocks from his work, protesters tried to rush a Gray’s Papaya as an egg and cheese on a bagel was burned on the bottom.
“They’re usually good here but I guess since it’s so cold, everyone wants an egg and cheese, so the probability of a burned one is high,” said Chup Chup Sinclair, 52, of New York.
Chup Chup Sinclair was at the rear of a group of protesters, but she said the experience was worth it despite the burnt smell.
Sinclair said she was upset by Mo’s return after his precious tour, but “I’m angrier this time, since I’m angry about the empty 2 tray on the Xerox.”
Some rallying against Mo’s work carried coffeemug-like coffee mugs to symbolize they liked coffee made before arriving to work.
Jacob Fear of 11th floor accounting said four women who were protesting the wearing of furs were arrested after they disrobed in the near-freezing temperatures. That rumor was later found to be porn left on someone’s screen.
“This is what makes America great. It’s a little disrespectful, but it’s their right to protest,” said Daniels J. Jones, who works on the 9th floor in web content.
Eight employees lay down in the break room pretending to be dead, with 11th floor donuts strewn over their bodies. Mo stepped over them to make coffee. There was one boston crème left which he took back to his desk and enjoyed, allowing him to forget anything negative was going on.

Canker Jo-Jo Elf was sittin’ pretty in Kansas City when
Delicious Sword-Sword Cleric swathered up and said,
“Tuesday’s the day, Jo-Jo.”
“For what?”
“For letting down my guard and allowing myself to sit and try
pork bbq for the first time. Then, I’m gonna pour a glass of
celebration and tilt my head back to good times.”
“Do I know you?”
“You will Tuesday,” he chuckled. “And how.”
Jo-Jo’s pretty sittin’ wasn’t settin’ well.

Tuesday came and went and he never saw Sword-Sword.
Wednesday morning came and a note made of dove wings hovered above
like a message from a dragonfly:
“Dear Jo-Jo,
I was afraid and didn’t celebrate myself. I feel awful
about not knowing you and not eating bbq. I looked at a
wolf’s eye through the window and it instilled new fear about
trying new things. I will sit in the dark today and play PS2.
Best Wishes,
Sword-Sword”
Jo-Jo took the note and made it into an airplane. The airplane flew over
the Atlantic and landed in a cabbage patch where a rabbit nibbled the
edges and made it look like a pig.
Another Tuesday came and Jo-Jo saw Sword-Sword.
“I want to thank you, Jo-Jo. For everything.”
“Ok.”
“I made you this plate of bark.”
“Thanks.”

c. 2003