“George can’t breathe down here,” Tom insisted. “He’s gonna die.”
“Yeah, I see,” Eric snapped, angry because he didn’t see at all.
“I just thought you should know. It’s a bad thing, don’t you think?”
“I suppose. Should we do something? We should do something.” At the moment he said this, Eric almost meant it. “What can we do, Tom?”
“We can’t do anything, that’s what. But why not? Why not?” Continue reading
“Hi,” Eric said.
“Wow!” George decided. “Talking fish on the beach! Let’s play!”
“We’re trying to follow a sound,” Tom grunted.
“Yeah, we’ll play some other time,” Eric agreed.
“The sound is gone,” Tom continued.
And it certainly was. No one realized the sound had been George crying, which his amazement at the fish had made him stop. But then, the pair of fish realized they were breathing air! And right above them was the sun, all ready to be played in! But they were undeniably still fish. How could they breathe air? How could they talk with George? How in the world—
“Just accept it!” a Voice boomed from all around them. Continue reading
Once upon a time, there lived a fish named Tom. Now I don’t want to go so far as to say Tom hated being a fish, but he was a touch unhappy. You see, he had a slight problem. Tom suffered from what he called a reverse dyslexia. Dyslexia is an ugly, technical word which means (sort of) mixed up. So a reverse dyslexia, you might figure out, should mean Tom was the exact opposite of mixed up. Well, that was not quite the case. Take my word for it. Simply put, Tom was very tragically sad, whether he believed he was mixed up or not. Poor Tom. Continue reading
“…we the jury find the defendant, Captain Large,” said the jury foreperson five months later “guilty on all counts of aggravated assault, being a public nuisance, destruction of private and public property, failure to yield to proper authority, and—”
“That’s fine, ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” the judge interrupted. “I’ll take it from here.” He fixed his steely gaze to the person of Captain Large, seven feet and five hundred pounds of muscle who now looked like nothing but a scolded child. “I have a thing or two to add.”
“Your Honor,” Captain Large pleaded. “Brainwave flipped me off!” Continue reading
The mastervillain sits in his coffee nook nursing his third cup of the morning and thinking vigorously. Normally it is not so strenuous coming up with a brilliant notion, not for the elite criminal who dared to dub himself Brainwave. Lately, though, it has become difficult.
Maybe it’s due to BW’s nemesis, Captain Babyballs. Could he be training some kind of mind-numbing stupid ray on Brainwave from his orbiting headquarters? Continue reading
Stone yelled like a maniac and rushed the twins. Taken by surprise, he actually knocked through them before either could pull their laser and got behind his ship ahead of their recovery. He heard the parents vainly remonstrating with their brutish children, but the sound of their stomping tread still came his way. Not wanting to shoot either one of them (and, honestly, he wasn’t sure the firepower he was packing would stop them) Stone decided he had no choice but to attempt a desperate gambit. Continue reading
A second shot narrowly skimmed by Stone as he fled towards his ship. He rolled behind the craft, hoping he was out of sight of the shooter, and drew his sidearm. But nothing else happened right away. For tense minutes he waited, fearing to move a muscle. He never noticed the person who crept up behind him until its hand was on his shoulder and flipping him over onto his back. The assailant then dropped a knee onto Stone’s chest and pinned him to the ground. Continue reading
The planet shouldn’t have even been there. When Riley emerged from jumpspace, he had expected to rendezvous with his partner Stone in a clear sector of space. Instead, he’d nearly been pulled into the gravity of a small world that was inexplicably very much present. Upon recovery after the near disaster, Riley studied the improbable planet. Continue reading
Gilbert had a gift. He’d discovered early in his life that if he fully concentrated on a person and then touched them, that they would sink into a morass of guilt over past actions. The touch worked particularly well around the holiday season. Continue reading
“It’s coming up now,” Sam announced.
Helen ran her fingers excitedly over his back as she leaned over Sam and gazed at the monitor.
“A world of our own,” she said, half in awe. “Are we finally here? Can we actually be about to land?” Continue reading