The results were in. I was going to have to gouge my eyeballs out with a tablespoon and then feed them to Guido, the hungry rhinosaurous on granddad's farm. If I didn't do that, my eyeballs would slowly seep down my face over the next three years. This had to be done.
I stuck the spoon in my eye. It made a sound like GLICK. Blood shot everywhere. My peripheral vision diminished by about 45 per cent. Then I stuck the spoon in my other eye. [NOTE: THE REST OF THIS STORY IS BEING TRANSCRIBED BY MY WIFE, BRENDA, SINCE...
We danced until the mimes came home. It was Halloween and the mimes owned the bank. They ate the bank because the bank was made of chocolate. There was no place to go. It was snowing.
So Jenny, my dance partner, grabbed one of the mimes and tore his stomach open. Blood and gore flew everywhere, but that wasn't important. What was important is that inside the mime's stomach was a warm motel where we could stay. The proprietor of the motel was Hulk Hogan. He rented us a room for $5 plus a bag of pretzels.
In the room...
"Hey Macarena!"
Robert watched in complete disbelief as the group of Anonymous supporters-turned-flash mob began to dance in the middle of the campus. They raised their hands, moving with the music. Several onlookers giggled at the sight,, others rolled their eyes. One yelled out "What's the frequency Kenneth?!"
Robert just shook his head. Crazy kids, he thought.
CRASH! the window had shattered after being shoot by a gun. All of us shuddered at the sound what were we going to do. Were we going to die today?
I heard a scream not knowing where it had come from we all blindly ran away. I couldn't here anything, my vision had blurred suddenly I heard a bang. My bestfriend who was like a brother to me was shot. I could feel the tears running like waterfalls down my face but i kept running knowing my life was on the line. Whoever killed my bestfriend was going to die...
It was the standard method of execution in the Forest of Giants.
Machelo was chained to a large yellow box on the top of a hill. Balanced atop his head was a metal bell; should he dislodge it, it would ring.
He'd been stabbed in the chest with two metal spikes; that in itself would be a mortal wound for any normal doll, but Machelo was much more than normal. His natural resilience would be enough to recover from his wounds, but not even he could withstand what would happen if the bell were to ring; if he were to...
He sat in the window of the coffee shop, letting his coffee go cold as he stared at the people passing on the street absentmindedly. His notebook lay open in his lap, forgotten. His new assignment at work completely failing to inspire him. His phone was faced down on the table so that he couldn't see it when it lit up as his girlfriend rang him to check up, berate him or otherwise just invade his bubble of solitude.
He wasn't sure whenhe had begun to feel just so, disatisfied, but the feeling had certainly settled upon him with a...
I was studying in science class when he came up to me. He slowly sat down next to me and asked me for help with a few questions from the textbook. "I need to hear someone explain it to me." He was begging now, but I knew that he understood the material. "You tell me. You know the answers, now teach them to me." I was trying to get him to put his thoughts into words and sort them out in a way that he could remember. And then he looked at me with his soft eyes and said, "But...
They come here every year. They come in droves to see the battlefields where good men gave their lives defending their land from the invading horde. They tromp over our sacred grounds, "ooh!" and "aah" at our homes - those that survived - and snicker at the descendants of those good, defeated soldiers who sound so different than them, yet speak the same language. But, their money is good I guess. And, looking around at the world today, at he end of a Republic turned fallen Empire, I can take some satisfaction that their hubris will soon be as dust...
The dock at his grandfather's pond always reminded him of Imladris, the land known as Rivendell in Tolkien's The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. It was a beautiful place, almost magical in its pristine loveliness. He used to play here every summer, fishing off the edge, diving into the water, and climbing the nearby trees in his search for the One Ring and the forces of Sauron, who were constantly hunting him and the Ring of Power.
He journeyed beside Aragorn, fought with Gimli and Legolas, sang songs with Thorin Oakenshield and his merry band of Dwarves.
Work...
The results were in, she said. And he ran and ran and ran and ran, disregarding the shouts of teachers behind him, just running and running and running till he reached the office. It was up on the bulletin board, sandwiched between changes in the lunch menu and posters for bake sales. He stopped for a moment, breathless, eager. Slowly he let himself look at it. The names were up. He scanned through them: Joe Malone. Hendrick Smith. Jerry Pandrip. Jonathan Sinker. Hetty Carbuncle.... so many names. He knew most of them: they had been his companions during the test,...