A writer, reader, swashbuckler, former counter-spy, soda jerk, space cowboy, and honorary Professor of Not-Quite-Mad-But-Pretty-Unusual Sciences at the University of Genial Monsters (Go Smilin' Sasquatch!), Mark J. Hansen has secretly saved the universe numerous times, with more close calls than he cares to admit. He enjoys fast trips through time and space, arm-wrestling rainbows, eccentric headwear and kittens with British accents. When he is not sharing his Stories of the Amazing and the Amazingly Well-Written, he mostly hangs out in his hot-air balloon overlooking Skull Island with a root beer float and a parrot on each shoulder, practicing hypnotism and innovative shoe-tying techniques.
On the corner of Drake Street, I waited. I was waiting for a change, for something better, for coincidence to happen upon me. And I felt this would happen there, on the corner of Drake Street.
This was like the corner's corner, with multiple slabs of the orn... [Read more...]
Hi. I'm not good at beating around the bush, so I will get right to the point. Here is my list for Christmas this year. I realize that it is April 15th, and I am late in filing my taxes, but I felt this was more important than filing my tax... [Read more...]
When I was 12, I went to sea. I went to sea to see the sea. I had yet to see the sea until I was 12. Then the sea I saw, and the sea, she saw me.
We hated each other.
I had romanticized the sea, reading stories and poetry and all the great paintings... [Read more...]
That is one big rock. Or a whole buttload of really, really small rocks. If you jumped from the top of that rock, and I mean off of it, not just up and down in one place or like a little kangaroo or something, but really just ran and jumped from the top of that ... [Read more...]
He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet. Or were his clothes pounding and his heart soaking wet? That's the great mystery surrounding the untimely death of Clive Anthony Cliveanthony.
We know that ... [Read more...]
The pistol was cocked, ready to go. Its bags were packed, you might say. Its shoes were on, and it was at Grandma's. Its teeth were brushed, its coat on and backpack packed. With bullets.
"Reach for the sky!" Criminal Pete shouted, h... [Read more...]
Gigantic was a nickname. Gigantic gave himself the nickname Gigantic. Gigantic was many things: loud, abrasive, blond, cigar smoker, and the worst golfer in the county. What Gigantic was not, however, was Gigantic.
Now, he wasn't the smallest guy you ever ... [Read more...]
Let's play a little word association game. I'll start. Are you ready for the word? I'll wait.
Ready now? Okay.
No, now you say something else. Let's try again.
No, see, you just repeated my word again. This isn't an echo game, yo... [Read more...]
She didn't look at him. She couldn't. "Look at me!" he shouted. She didn't. She couldn't.
Then she did again.
This went on for several hours.
"Stop looking at me!" he shouted. But she didn't not look at him. She couldn't ... [Read more...]
It was a brave day for navy blues men. And a sad day for pirate kind. The navy blues men had defeated the pirates at their own game, the blues. The pirates were especially bluesy that day, having been attacked by navy blues men. But the navy blues ... [Read more...]
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