The Devil on Her Shoulder

J.K. Rowling sat at her computer, slamming down the keys on the keyboard at a furious, superhuman pace. Satan stood behind her, looking anxiously over her shoulder.

“Yes, marvellous, marvellous!” He exclaimed, stroking his sharp, triangular goatee.

“You don’t have to hover over me at all times, you know,” she said matter-of-factly. “I know the terms of the arrangement––you provide the means for me to take care of my children, and I convert every other child into an unholy warrior for you. I haven’t forgotten.”

“J.D. Salinger said the same thing, but where is he now? You tell me that.”

Virginman

Virginman was not the real name of the flamboyant man in the metallic armour currently flying over the Atlantic. As a beloved philanthropist, Richard Branson needed a clever pseudonym to be a participating member of the CTA, and so his alter ego was born.

One might wonder how a man of such wealth and taste could perpetrate such cruel, unspeakable acts upon the world, but the answer was simple: Branson was a living, breathing, 58-year old virgin, and so loathed all of humanity because of it, that he had spent the last third of his life wreaking havoc upon it.

Meetings

The Council for Terrestrial Apocalypse held meetings every Tuesday night at 7pm. The 5 person group chose that time, so that the meetings would never run longer than an hour, since no member wanted to miss an episode of House. Made up of Zombie Anderson Silva, Judge Judy, Virginman, J.K. Rowling, and a young Chinese girl named Cheng Fei, the group attempted to put into motion plans to bring about the end of times.

Currently, Judge Judy thought she was arguing with Zombie Anderson Silva about the relative merits of nuclear winter.

"Are you stupid?" Judy shrieked.

"Dá-me cérebros!" Anderson retorted.

Gallstones

Ernie Shmouse failed to get into medical school, so despite deep ideological opposition, he attended a school for naturopathic medicine, and became a bored, certified ND.

“My doctor says I have gallstones, and that I should have surgery,” Tabitha said, “but I just don’t believe in surgery.”

“Sure. Surgery,” Ernie drew air quotes.

“What?”

“It doesn’t exist.”

“What?”

“Anyway, I have some snake oil for gallstones. Eat nothing but apples for five days, and then drink lots of lemon juice mixed with olive oil. You’ll be cured after your morning tinkle. Or maybe you won’t, and you really just need surgery.”

First Contact

“Greetings, Earthlings!” One handsomely rugged alien proclaimed, brushing sandy blonde hair out of his face, and stepping down from his interplanetary vehicle.

“Are you fr..from the future?” The President stuttered.

“Time travel’s impossible,” a tall, slender female alien responded. “We come from another planet.”

Stunned, the President asked, “How can that be? You look exactly li...like us.”

The two extremely attractive aliens shared a look and replied, “actually, we look much better than you, but that’s only because we’ve discovered the secret to timeless beauty, and for just 12 easy payments of $29.95, you can discover that secret, too.”

Probiotics

After consuming several gallons of summer berry probiotic yogurt, Hanson was curled in a ball on his bed contemplating the tragic urge to consume without constraint when mired in misery.

“You are completely infertile,” the doctor had said.

“There isn’t anything I can do? If I don’t get my wife pregnant, she’ll leave me. I’m basically just a turkey baster to her.”

“Well, some people recommend special diets. But there’s no scientific evidence to support any of it.”

And thus Hanson found himself feeling like he had eaten cement instead of yogurt, and considering the point at which probiotics became conbiotics.

Wonder and Discovery

The wedding had passed without a hitch, and the honeymoon was over. Now he was alone for the first time since they were together, and as co-workers all around him buzzed like crickets, the full weight of his decision came to bear upon him. There was a little less wonder in his world now, a little less discovery.

“Do you think I should’ve waited a little longer to get married?” He asked the co-worker next to him.

His co-worker gave him an exasperated look and, as bullets whizzed past their heads, he yelled, “Iraqi soldiers are shooting at you, Private! Shoot back!”

Rumours

When the police declared that Troy was no longer a person of interest in the murder of Carlos Silva, rumours about the mysterious circumstances of Carlos' death began to circulate among the students of their high school. None, however, was as powerful as the story of a vengeful freshman who executed perfectly his plan to have his bully executed.

When Paula––Carlos’ girlfriend, and fellow bully––was found stabbed to death in her bedroom, the student body were sure that Troy had done it. When the police, again, cleared him of any wrongdoing, the high school buzzed in fear and excitement.

Interrogation

Worse than being hung on the outstretched finger of Sir Alexander Flemming, was reliving the incident to a pair of police officers who were certain that you had murdered your bully.

“Where were you Saturday evening,” Officer Buck asked.

“I was at home, with my family,” Troy answered.

“They’ll attest for your whereabouts?” Officer Gary asked.

“Can I talk to my mum?”

“What, so you can straighten up your alibi? I don’t think––”

Officer Buck interrupted, whispering that Troy was allowed a guardian by law in Officer Gary’s ear. Officer Gary looked displeased and said, “Fine, but we’re watching you, kid.”

Based On A True Story

Tibbles was a cat who was unceremoniously ripped from his home, and brought to an island with two men and a lighthouse. He was used to being fed, so when several days had passed and Tibbles hadn’t seen a morsel of food, he took matters into his own paws.

Hunting for the first time, Tibbles found an easy target: a flightless bird. Tearing into its flesh, Tibbles was overcome with pleasure from both the succulence of his prey, and the pride of being a true predator.

Months later, Tibbles had hunted that wren to extinction, and was now left with nothing.

Into The Woods

Ranger Roger was telling a ghost story to the boys of Camp Straightwood, a place that helped gay teens become straight.

“Later that night, when Joe returned to his cabin, he found his friends...” Roger paused, and then stood up and yelled into the forest behind him, “damnit Lance, you missed your cue!” He received no response, and walked back to where Lance was supposed to be hiding. He heard growling and grunting nearby, but saw no sign of him.

And then, behind a tree stump, horror: Lance was balls-deep inside Todd, a camper.

“Damnit, Lance!”

“What, he’s 18. It’s okay!”

Gray's Anatomy

“I’ll get the money that I lost, and my husband will forgive me,” Dr. Weller says.

“That’s great,” Mr. Tindal says, “but what’s wrong with my penis?”

“You think there’s something wrong with my plan? You don’t think it’s going to work? It has to work, because he’s John, and I’m Judy. We’re John and Judy! And I’m not spending my life with some McSleazy that I met at the bar across the street!”

“What are you, on Grey’s Anatomy or something?”

“Seriously? Seriously? You watch Grey’s Anatomy?”

“My wife does. I’m just in the same room,” Mr. Tindal mumbles, embarrassed.

Cat Heaven

When Renard’s mother fell ill, he quit his job to take care of her. She deteriorated, and on her death bed, she asked of him only one thing: to take care of her cats, all twelve of them. Now Renard was a jobless, lonely, miserable middle-aged man, who smelled perpetually of cat urine.

So when Renard stepped in front of a bus, the only thing on his mind was the magnificent relief it would be never having to see another cat again. Which, of course, made the bureaucratic error that caused him to awake in cat heaven all the more unpleasant.

Toys'R'Us Kid

“Seriously, I’ve sent out fifty resumes, and not one call back.” Ted paces anxiously across the living room, stomping a shallow trench into the carpet.

“Did you put the right phone number on it?” Jed asks, while he watches Star Whores: The Empire Strikes Black.

“This resume is perfect. No mistakes.”

The heroine, Syndee Grace, is in an unenviable position between two large stormtroopers as Jed reads over the resume. He asks, “you don’t really want a job, do you?”

“What?”

“These are the lyrics to the Toys’R’Us theme song.”

Ted pauses, defeated, and says, “so what? I’m a Toys’R’Us kid.”

Serenpidity

“Nice pants, fag!” Carlos Silva yelled as he hung Troy by the waistband of his dinosaur imprint sweatpants on the outstretched finger of a statue of his school’s namesake: Sir Alexender Flemming. Troy’s older brother had warned that they were a poor choice for the first day of high school, but they were Troy’s favourite pants.

Troy tried to free himself, but his pants tore, revealing white, skid-marked underwear.

Shaking, Troy cried, “I’m going to fucking murder you!”

That just made everyone laugh harder. Later in the week, when Carlos died mysteriously, everyone wondered whether they should’ve been laughing at all.

An alternative to Florida

Mark and Maggie Holson entered the Parkdale High School gymnasium where the best Euchre players in the country were awaiting the beginning of the National Euchre Championship. It was Mark and Maggie’s first time qualifying, and the whole experience was becoming overwhelming for them. More overwhelming, though, was a vague smell of death and cat urine wafting through the gym.

Maggie whispered to her Dad, “I always thought people went to Florida to die. Turns out they just come here.”

Mark cautioned, “don’t underestimate them, Mags. Seniors have nothing but time on their hands.”

“Time and perfume from the 1500s. Uhg!”

Basilisk

Basilisk was the malignant monster who terrorized the countryside, wreaking havoc upon all it laid its soulless eyes.

Sir Huntingham was the vengeful knight who vowed to slay Basilisk as his father lay dying from its claw.

Tracking it for months, he found it asleep one moonlit night in a quiet, wooded dell. “Loiter not in the land of the living, foul demon!” Sir Huntingham cried, dragging his sword across the monster’s belly, revealing its insides.

Oliver was the lonely orphan living inside the Basilisk costume whose final thought before the knight’s sword tore through him was, “this all there is?”

Organic Machinery

As a child, Dr. Weller spent most of her time playing in her backyard. She sat near a large bush with lavender-coloured flowers that attracted enormous, fuzzy bumblebees. These bees puttered around like clown cars from flower to flower, burrowing deep inside, wiggling around, and then climbing out, often returning to the same flower later. They made her think of organic machinery, a single cog in something much greater, unaware of the master plan.

Now, the colour of the bacterial rash on Mr. Tindal’s semi-erect penis (he apologized profusely) reminded her of those flowers, albeit less majestic and far more sordid.

Inside & Out

When Dr. Weller had finished vomiting in all-consuming terror, she carefully pushed open the door to Meadow Creek Health Clinic’s only bathroom and peeked down the hall. Appearance was everything and a sick doctor was unseemly. Her white coat suggested professionalism despite her crippling gambling addiction. Her Gucci heels suggested wealth despite her tremendous debt. Her medical degree suggested a propensity for saving lives despite an agreement she had made not fifteen minutes ago to take a man’s life. Thinking of this, she tumbled back toward the toilet, surprised that her husband’s Greek salad could taste any worse coming back up.