Thursday, November 21, 2013

To borrow humans

"I'll just borrow a few humans from the human-borrowing store..."

"How do they make their money?"

"Memberships, donations, rentals, lost-human fees... and selling gum and stuff from vending machines."

Need No Reason

"I can't remember why you like anything."

"And I can't remember why I like anything. That makes me not like things."

"Then don't have reasons. You don't have to have reasons to like things. Never, ever require yourself to have reasons for doing things. That's one of the worst mistakes people ever make in life. Erase that requirement from your mind. Like things and do things for no reason at all. That is the only way to make your life swim."

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

"Hey, whale, I'm tired of your face"

I have a good time, why can't the whale? He is always ruining my special spaghetti night. He's skeptical, and when he talks, he gives things away that people aren't supposed to know and he ruins it for everyone. Last time it happened, I had to give everybody their money back. I don't like doing things back, least of all giving money, least of all because of some whale with a big mouth and no faith in the supernatural. I'm tired of his whale face. It comes from nature, people tell me. I don't buy it. God made this whale thing to tease me. It is most of the things I'm not. And he makes so much sense, with his logical explanations, that I look bad. People don't want to be seen with me. But everyone wants to get their picture taken with the whale. Popular asshole.

Monday, November 11, 2013

In the bushes

She ended up getting caught in the bushes. You know, with her hair and stuff. And he tried to help get her out, but she wasn't sure if she wanted that. Him having been reputed to have beat little guys up for fun and all that. It was just a little thing, all that sending weaker specimens to the hospital for no reason, but still. She was unsure how to feel. And especially now, with him trying to extricate twigs from her hair. Maybe she didn't mind being stuck in the bushes so much after all. "I'm OK!" she said, but he kept fiddling with the long tangle of hair ratted in with the leaves and dirt and cobwebs and probably bugs, too.

Sunday, November 10, 2013

Poisons and Poisonings

"I don't know why it happens. If my food had been poisoned, I'd want to know about it before it was too late. But it was at a big cult dinner the other day when I rushed in and told the people at my table what I'd learned, and they just kept eating. A few of them seemed to be interested in what I said, and they paused, but once they saw that guy Mark continue on with his munch and quaff, they went right ahead and kept doing it, too. I guess they don't care if they die. Is that possible? Or is it just that they didn't take me seriously? But why would I lie about their food having been poisoned? I don't do that. I'm not that kind of girl. Or maybe they're just such sheep that they always have to go with the flow of what they see other people doing, even if it means at the very least a night married to the toilet, and at most death and damnation. Permanent death and damnation. Maybe even the tortures of Hell. I don't personally believe in an afterlife, but it's a useful threat to people who don't listen to science.

"Mark is such a humorless British assface. An English assface. Not Scottish or Welsh or whatever. No, he's English, the worst of the worst."