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November 14, 2005

Volume 8, Issue 14

Somewhere, someone is laughing hysterically.

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Comments

The stall door came crashing inward, smashing into Jerry's left knee, and his ass slammed shut in mid-crap as he looked up in horror at the figure standing before him.

"Hello, Jerry," Vito said as he levelled the business end of his pistol at a point between Jerry's eyes.

"Uh, tell Frankie..." Jerry stammered, but Vito cut him off.

"Tell Frankie nuttin'," he sneered. "Frankie is tired of hearing your lies." He pulled the hammer back. "In fact, right now Frankie is probably laughing his ass off," he said, pointing at the small video camera mounted on the gun. "Smile..."

Posted by: hnumpah at November 14, 2005 9:44 AM · Permalink

I wish I could rate that with a plus 1, but I get this error -Duplicate entry '26061' for key 1
Warning: Cannot modify header information - headers already sent by (output started at /home/scribe/public_html/100words/addrating.php:48) in /home/scribe/public_html/100words/addrating.php on line 53

The name selection alone deserves a plus something.

Posted by: kasac at November 14, 2005 10:19 AM · Permalink

I just got the same message, kasac. The ratings script appears to be all brokeny.

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at November 14, 2005 10:21 AM · Permalink

Apparently, I forgot to pay the electric bill. They shut off the power so my alarm didn’t wake me in the morning. That’s how I lost my job.

And I was about to be evicted unless I could scrape together some money for rent.

“You’re back?” I asked the green-headed duck. The question was very sarcastic but even more rhetorical. “What happened to the migration?”

“There’s no way I’m flying in this weather, Fred. Can’t you hear the storm?”

I listened carefully. “That’s rain?”

“What did you think it was, Fred?”

“I thought it was Fate, laughing at me again.”

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at November 14, 2005 12:44 PM · Permalink

Sir Fat’s last laugh:

To be the leader of a people, and yet afraid to be seen by anyone that you don’t literally trust with your life. Being allowed to live, but constantly reminded that you have no true power. Locked in a compound for years, afraid to show yourself out doors lest you hear someone right next to you yell “Incoming!!”

Using the French to plan and execute your escape. That may be the most cunning, and certainly the funniest, part of the whole ruse.

Sitting on a private beach, billions of euros buried in the sand. I’d be laughing my head off.

Posted by: kasac at November 14, 2005 12:46 PM · Permalink