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Flash Fictions
Bouncy, Bouncy
Music fills the room, forcing all the furniture, dust, and excess molecules into the hallway. If I had a broom, I might try to clear some space by sweeping the sounds into a newly-designed dustpan. Don't ask about the design, it's a secret and besides, your gossip hounding ways could get you in a peck of trouble. I'm not saying all music is trash, just anything with a guitar noise or semi-rhythmic droning or squeals. I'm also not particularly fond of the room-filling capabilities of torture-based bone scraping, but I'm willing to make concessions as long as the game is short and the hotdogs are relatively fresh and warm. You might be wondering about the connections between hotdogs and music. Both have consumer-based pricing structures and both gush a thick mucousy liquid that when condensed and processed turns into colorful, yet sun-protecting ointments. They won't protect from the sun's rays, mind you, just its oppressive crime racket and bumbling meathead hoodlums.
Hone Grown
I'd like to help you, but there are laws against my intervening in the affairs of vegetables. No, I'm not talking about bed-ridden motorcycle crash victims. I mean those tasty friends of the garden. Gardens don't necessarily require friends, but when you're dirt, worms and bits of broken glass, you need more than just a television. From my limited understanding, which quite frankly isn't all that limited, the vegetables of the world have formed a union. They're not asking for much, but you'd better listen to their demands. If you're hearing impaired, that's too bad, because vegetables lost their movable digits years ago. There are only three demands. First, vegetables want pets. Each stalk of corn or tasty string of peas wants a gerbil. I know that's a lot of gerbils, but I understand Cuba has been doing some research into a small rodent army. Secondly, vegetables want socks. Sure, they don't have feet, but it's a small concession to keep our species alive. Lastly, they want the world to stop calling the tomato a vegetable. It's a fruit dammit, do you hear me, tomatoes are fruits, can't you see that!
Raising rabbits is not easy. No, no it's really not. If you get scared, e-mail me and I'll calm you down. Things being what things being.
