Vance’s New Window

“This new windshield will treat you well, mister. Treat. You. Well.” Sid said, putting the finishing touches on the installation.

“I appreciate it, Sid.  That crack was getting larger,” Vance said.

“Yeah, like your waistline,” said an unseen newcomer to the conversation.

“Excuse me?” Vance asked.

“Something tells me you don’t ‘play’ dumb, you just are.”

“Gosh, sir, I’m sorry about this,” Sid started, “this is a new glass type.”

“The windshield is talking?” Vance asked in total disbelief.

“No. Sid was talking. You interrupted.” The windshield said.

Sid sighed, “this is ill-tempered glass.  It won’t break. It only wise-cracks.”

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Wade at the End of the World

If a person could be defined by a sound, Wade could be defined as the rumble of an empty stomach.  People can’t be defined as sounds though, so they are left to be defined by their actions and words.  Wade was better defined as a hunter of prey that probably deserved a head start.

“Would you just stop so I can eat you!” Wade shouted at a very fast chicken. “Dinner for one, to go. Amirite?”

A laugh not his own sounded behind the rubble. At that moment, Wade was defined as the sound of screams on a roller coaster.