“Seriously? There’s no way anyone is gonna go by the name I Don’t Know. That’s so ludicrous, I can’t even talk to you anymore. Good day.”
Two astronomers stood beside an enormous telescope. For a very odd reason, they called each other the night before and decided they’d wear old-timey vaudeville costumes. The pudgy one, the shorter of the two said, “It’s whack how the universe is constantly changing. What with the discovery of new asteroids and the redefinition of Pluto. It’s hard to keep up.”
Time travel for dummies. Am I right?
It happened again, and Tom The Tinkerer® was sick of it. For God’s sake, a grown-ass man should be able to take a nap without slipping through the time stream. Regardless, he dealt with it; he had to.
The cartoon version of the big race war we all fear.
Sung, who could best be described as a middle-aged Brazilian man, was immediately taken aback after Juanita, who could best be described, a youngish Norwegian woman, wrapped a makeshift towel around her head with her stubby fingers, which reeked of fresh pierogi, and pelted him with the following words, “Go back to Antarctica!” Her accent was thick like the mustache of a New Zealand sailor’s typically ugly daughter.
This is the Omni Hotel® in Dallas, the one in Texas. Many things have happened here over the years. This is just one more incident.
In her current state, Mary Zweibel knew only two things; this was not her bathroom and she had to seriously hurl. She hugged the cold porcelain toilet and moaned “Earl”, while spewing the contents of her stomach through her mouth and into the water, which then splashed back into her face. She coughed. This expulsion revealed two more bits of information. One, she had last eaten pasta; and two, the sickening sweet stench of Red Bull® and whatever else the fuck is in a Vegas Bomb™ forced the disgusting stream out of her face. For those who need to know, the other ingredients are Crown Royal Canadian Whiskey®, Malibu Coconut Rum®, peach schnapps, and a splash of cranberry juice. The thick choking aroma of sugar forced her to vomit again, and then the sight of it made her repeat the violent spasms.
The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
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