Gerard the Ghost Follows Procedure

“Boo and whatnot.  I’ll be on the couch,” Gerard the Ghost said, floating down the hallway on way his way to the kitchen.

Claire startled. “Jeepers, Gerard, you got me that time.  We talked about this.”

“I’m a ghost, Claire. I have to say ‘boo’ at least once during the week or I have to go training. Again.  Stephan does the re-training events. He’s a tool,” Gerard said.  He stopped in the hallway and hovered above a vase full of roses.

“You just have to say, ‘boo,’ not actually scare me. We read through the procedure together.  We agreed you’d be cool, I’d be cool, Martin would be cool. If we were all cool, you could stay and we would not call an old priest and a young priest to show you the way out.” Claire did not hide her threat very well.

“Hey, hey, I’m cool,” Gerard said putting his hands in the air defensively, “I just think the instruction was written by people who intended fright to be part of the deal.”

“Then scare Martin!” Claire shouted, nearly dropping breakfast.

“Wow. You sold him out fast.” Gerard was shocked.

“He knows what he did. Scare him until he sleeps poorly would you?”

Gerard wished he could still blink.  “My go-forward plan will be to focus scares on Martin.  In the immediate, I am going to pick up his Last of Us save.  That’ll really annoy him and I’ll hit my poltergeist requirements for the week.  Win win.”

“Take twenty minutes then I need the telly. Thanks, Gerard!”

“Good chat, Claire. See you at dinner time.”




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Deck and Amy and the Recommendations

The film’s final act came to a close.  Credits were ushered in by a loud boom that was meant to be the start of a song.  Amy woke up.

“Oh. My. Gosh! That movie gets better every viewing,” Carter said, clapping and laughing.

“That was quite a film! Action, adventure…plot.  I feel the characters really developed and learned a few things about love, but mostly about themselves.  Good stuff,” Deck said.  He had said this exact same phrase after watching The Love Guru with friends.

“I thought you’d love it!” Peggy said, joining her husband in a weird clap and laugh combo of joy.

“Totally agree,” Amy said, groggily joining the conversation, “when they finally worked it out, man. I tell you.”

“Well,” Deck said, standing up from the couch, “I hate to view and run, but it is super late and we have a thing in the morning.”

“Thank you for having us over,” Amy said.

“Thank you guys! This was fun.  We should plan for next week.  I know just the film!” Carter said.

“Sounds great!” Deck said, “we’ll see what we can do.”

Deck and Amy left the house for their car awaiting them in the driveway.

The engine roared to life, but the cab was silent for a long moment.  Amy stared out the windshield. Deck could not blink.  In unison, they both turned to face each other.

“That was absolute garbage,” Deck said.

“Just the worst. I think less of our friends now,” Amy said.

“I think less of us now,” Deck countered.

“I worry for the future of art,” Amy mumbled.

“They have a kid. They will teach another human that movie was okay,” Deck pondered.

“Let’s go home and put any literally any random movie from Netflix because it will be better than that monstrosity,” Amy suggested.

“Consider it done. We’re never coming back here.”



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They were watching Napoleon Dynamite

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.”

The Car Alarm (Archives)

I still want to make this a real thing.

The Car Alarm. From July 2016.  That’s over a year ago.  Jimminy crickets.


Bleep Bleeeeeeep Eep Eep Eep

“Oh for crying out loud, I didn’t even touch you, stupid car,” Mark chided the silver Mazda in the parking space next to his car.  The alarm paid Mark’s words no heed.

Onk Onk Onk Ankh

“That last one always sounds different,” Mark said lauging, moving groceries from his cart to the trunk.

Whoooooo Whooooo Whooo ever Controls the Ankh Control All of Time and Space

Mark started paying attention to the alarm.  “That’s a new one,” he said quietly.

Wee-ooo Wee-ooo We Need You To Save the Ankh Stranger 

Mark’s eyebrows shot skyward and he pointed a finger at himself.  “You talking to me, car?”

Ankh Ankh Find the Ankh Ankh

Mark, confused and worried, looked through the parking lot to see if any one else had noticed the strange words coming from the vehicle’s alert system.  “Does anyone know where the owner of this Mazda might be?” He shouted his question out to an empty lot.  “Anybody? No?”

Whoooo Whoooo Shall Take On the Task Ankh Ankh Ankh

This…this is too much,” Mark muttered.  He tossed the rest of his groceries into the trunk, forgetting any proper protocol when it came to egg placement, started his car and drove off.

Behind an oak tree at the edge of the parking lot a long haired lady, inexplicably wearing a researcher’s lab coat in 90 degree summer heat, put her face into frame of her camera phone’s shot.  “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said into the camera, “I have figured out how to make car alarms relevant deterrents to automobile tampering.  Behold! Cryptic Car Chorus 3000.  An investment portfolio will be presented to you shortly.”

Kenny Concocts a Story

When Kenny woke up, regret was all he felt.

“Oh golly,” he said, rubbing sleep from his eyes, “I have to come up with a story that will be way more cool than what actually happened.  None can know my shame.”


Story 1:

I was walking home from work, stopped by the pub.  The usual Friday night escapades.  After a pint, I opted to head home to catch up on my DVR stuff.  It was getting pretty full and I heard something about a dragon on GoT.  Had to see it for myself.  The moment I got outside a herd of cattle; cows, calves, bulls, the whole lot, came stampeding down the street.  I had no choice but to hop onto a raging bull, not missing my DeNiro impression opportunity, and rode the beast.  I must have been tossed off, my clothing lost in the fray, and landed in this very corn field.  What a strange story.  I don’t want to ever discuss it again.


Story 2:

I drove home after work.  Readied my meal, watched some Walking Dead re-runs and then a bright flash of green light flooded my room.  Silence followed.  No crickets, no birds, no motorcycles racing down the highway.  Nothing.  I had to go investigate.

I don’t remember what happened once I opened the door.  All I know is that I am here in a cornfield and smell like bacon.


Story 3:

Have you ever sneezed really, really hard?


Story 4:

I forgot my phone charger at work and it was a really nice night last night, so I figured I would walk back.  Get some exercise in and all that.  Well, this was my first mistake.  I got completely lost.  Night fell hard and fast.  I end up by this cornfield and a crop duster appears out of nowhere!  I get sprayed by those pesky, but necessary pesticides and completely blacked out.  Now I’m here, talking to you officers.



“Yeah, yeah, one of those.  So long as what actually happened doesn’t slip out.  That would be embarrassing,” Kenny said.


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Egg is a Good Dog

And now; haiku from the perspective of a good dog named Egg.


Egg is a good dog.
Owner forgot her cell phone.
Egg runs back for it.

Rabbit! Over there!
I’ll catch it! Don’t you worry.
Egg is a good dog.

Egg is a good dog.
Knows what all the secrets are
But won’t say a word.

I’ll bark all day long.
I’ll stop barking when I’m done.
Egg is never done.

Egg is a good dog.
But Egg has a weird ol’ name.
Egg likes Beetlejuice.

Egg is a good dog.
Egg found a bird for Owner.
Egg has made mistakes.


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Deck and Amy and Tech Support

“Crap. I have no idea what the access information is.” Deck said.  He hung his head low and smashed some keys on the keyboard.

“Well, we kinda’ need to figure that out.  Can you do a password reset?” Amy asked.  She twirled a pen in her hand readying to jot down information for a trip they needed to book very, very soon.

“Tried it.  It went to an email address that hasn’t existed since before we met,” Deck said, turning to face her.

“I thought our lives didn’t start until we met?” Amy teased.

“I hate to break it to you, but there were email addresses before I knew you,” Deck said.

“Can you email them for assistance?” Amy asked.

Deck began scrolling the support page.  His face turned from sad annoyance to horrified in the blink of an eye.

“They say we have to call if password reset doesn’t work.” Deck did not know such a thing could exist in the modern world.

“Cancel the account. There are other suppliers.  Write a really mean tweet too.  This cannot stand.” Amy slammed her pen on the desk before her, pulled out her phone and opened an Expedia account.  “Calling for help.  That’s insane.”



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