If money was the root of all evil, then wine must surely be a close second.

Jasper gazed through the rosy depths of the wine glass in his hand, observing the scene beyond with quiet detachment. Wine had always mellowed him, left him with a feeling a pleasurable distance from his surroundings, as though nothing that happened would effect him at all. He remembered his girlfriend's anger at his apparent coldness when she informed him of her condition, the way she had yelled and screamed and beat her fists against him as he silently took in her news, analysed the...

Everyone's a joker, until the joke's on them, thought the fish. Swimming in the fluorescent green waters was hell on the eyes, which they could never even close by the way. Just because a bloke swam in his own feces didn't mean he needed to be the butt of every little orange-finned wiseguy that happened to be dumped into their river. Who did he think he was anyway?

The boy that had dumped the little orange fish had left in a hurry. Probably glad to be rid of the little bugger, honestly. The fish swam up to the orange monstrosity,...

Shattered.

She had always had a fondness for that word, the way it reflected the brokenness it supposedly defined, the way the consonants lined up, hard and jagged on the ears and soul. Maybe that was part of its appeal. She had always had a fondness for broken things...

She stared at the black screen before her, out of practice and rapidly running out of time as the timer quietly mocked her, accused her, with its silent countdown. Time was running out. Would she have time enough to mend the shattered peices of her soul? In the seconds that remained...

The water was clear but her conscience was not.

Carla gazed into the crystal goblet's depths, the sparkling liquid reflecting the sunlight that filtered through the kitchen's old fashioned windows. It was one of the things that originally attracted them to the old, refurbished barn. The glass irregular, thicker at the bottom, letting the natural light unevenly through its depths, like the sun seen from underwater.

Carla smiled at the memory. They had been happier then. Happy and in love and carefree, despite the financial uncertainty of starting a new life together. But they had scrimped and saved for their...

Rudolph ran as fast as his four legs would carry him. He had run out of fairy dust over a remote forest, and unfortunately it was deer season.

The celebrity found it hard to blend in with his shiny nose. In fact, it was damn near impossible. His snoz glowed like a blinking beacon, one the hunting party was only too glad to follow. He heard a voice, not far off, call, “I see him over here, boys!”

Damnation, but they were close!

Rudolph searched the area. Could he pull the ol' mud over the nose trick again? No, who...

If humans are mostly water, what happens when you remove it?

This was the idle yet macabre thought that raced through Remdrick's brain as he performed routine maintenance on his vehicle. It may not have been the most current model, but Remdrick's needs were few. It needed to be space-worthy, it needed to have ample power, an electronic library, and living quarters sufficient for him and his pet. Though if she died during the nearly 120 year-long trip, he wanted a way to preserve the body- it would be nice to bury Mildred on the new homeworld. As things stood...

He had her in his sights. The moment he saw her, he zeroed in on his prey. Her grace, her beauty... she stood apart from the rest of the herd. Easy pickings.

He waited for her to stop, her attention focused elsewhere, light illuminating her silhouette - almost like a halo. Perfect.

Ready, aim... *click*

"Excuse me, ma'am?" he asked, running over to her with the rapidly-drying Polaroid. "Would you like a souveneir of your trip here? Only five dollars for the pretty lady!"

The woman blushed and pushed the film away. "No thanks," she said, "I'm fine."

No doubt...

They would never stop.

She used to love the sight of birds on a rooftop, electric wires, even clotheslines. She used to feed them in the park, throwing crumbs and other leftover sandwich bits to the flock that would land on the concrete and nibble at her feet. But they were not content.

They wanted more.

Soon, she noticed the flock flying behind her car as she drove home from work, the store, the school. They would line up behind her like children behind the Pied Piper, only these children had coal black eyes and hearts to match. They were...

You can count me out.

You can count me out.

How many times do I have to say it? Count me out of your scheme. I have no desire for riches, fame, or even immortality. Just life.

That's all I want. Just to live my life. My peaceful, ordinary life. And the only way I can do that is for you to count me out of this.

I wish you'd make the same choice, but as things stand, you had a good life.

Well, a decent life.

Oh, who am I kidding? When you meet Beelzebub, try not to give...

"But I don't understand," said Marie, carefully patting her French-inspired doo. She had enough hairspray on it to make it impervious, not only to wind, but to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune as well. "Why can't you explain this to me? What do you mean they've had enough cake?"

"Don't worry about it, Ms. Antoinette," said Katie Couric with a grin. "It's nothing to lose your head about."

*rimshot*