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October 13, 2005

Volume 7, Issue 13

Rob Smith said "17 years old and killed by a soccer ball" yesterday.

The theme for today is someone getting killed by an unusual object.

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D: Where there's yokel...

"Well I'll be damned; never thought I'd see one of those out here."

"Think we ought t’head back?"

"Nah, we’ll leave Zeke's body here ‘til after we're done hunting. Jus’ wish he'd stop twitching like that, t’ain't natural."

"It’s pretty firmly embedded int’his spine."

"But wheredit come from? Straight outta the sky like that."

"Maybe someone tossed it from an aero-plane…"

"Maybe."

"I heard this one time; groom-to-be was killed when the best man tied him t’tree and set one off up his ass."

"Damn queers."

"Yup."

"Well, ain't no fires needing extinguished out here so it stays behind too."

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Ted: When It's Your Time...

James was walking into his doctor's office, worrying about his physical. Last year, his blood pressure had been a little high, his cholesterol very high, and his prostrate had been giving him trouble. After batteries of 'procedures' and medicines, and a new excercise regimen, he was a new man. His worry was about what would the doctor find this year.

His hands shook as he filled the specimen bottle, knowing this examination would only find new issues. The doc said to relax and wait while he scrubbed up.

The doctor slipped on James' piss, hit his head, and died instantly.

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Stacy: Snapped

Detective Hawkins leaned back on his heels, gasping for breath.

His partner, Smith, peered at him over the body, noisily working on a piece of chewing gum, apparently unaffected by the stench of blood and other bodily effluvia.

Hawkins hated his partner, had since day one. After 8 years on the force, Smith was easily the thing he’d hated most. Hawkins fists clenched as watched Smith idly wind the victim’s intestines around his pencil.

Later, as they led Hawkins away, the beat cops stood over the remains of his partner, shaking their heads. Interesting use for a fire hydrant, that.

Read more from Stacy's .

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