Wednesday, February 22, 2017

The Rules






        Wendy served drinks at Joe’s Place. It paid well. She could work nights while her husband stayed home with the kids. She’d learned to fend off the flirts, but the part of her job she most hated was cutting off the drunks.
        Jim Duncan had reached his limit tonight. He slurred his words as he asked for another beer.        
        “You’re 86’d,” Wendy said, placing his glass on the tray. “Go home.”
        He stood, wobbly on his feet. “Get outta my way!”
        She moved to stop him in his tracks. “You know the rules.”
        “Sure. ’I’ before ‘e’ except after ‘c’.”



Wednesday, February 15, 2017

What Stinks?






        Propane gas is odorless, but a chemical is always added to make it stink. Ashley learned why the day she climbed up the steps to the camp trailer. She could smell gas even before she opened the door.
        What is that awful smell? she wondered, cupping her hand over her nose. The trailer hadn’t been used since last fall when her husband had taken it hunting.
        Had he left meat in the refrigerator?
        No. The fridge was empty.
        “Tim,” she called. “There’s a skunk in the camper!”
        He came running from the house. “That’s no skunk. It’s a gas leak.”

               
       




Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Little Bo Peeped




          Little Bo Peep sat under a tree eating her curds and whey. She’d climbed to a high meadow with the sheep this morning. The grass was greener, but there was always the danger of the Big Bad Wolf. Practical Pig said he’d seen the wolf run this way after it jumped out of the chimney.
        She licked the spoon, dreaming of Little Boy Blue, when Georgie Porgie jumped out from behind the tree. “Rub-a-dub-dub!.”
        “Go away!” she screamed.
        “The cow jumped over the moon.”
        “I’ll find her and bring her home, I promise.”
        He laughed. “Kiss me first.”



Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Kissing Daredevil






        Fingering the shark tooth at his neck, Brady asked the ghost of Evel Knievel for a safe landing. In twenty minutes, he was scheduled to jump his jet-propelled motorcycle across the Grand Canyon.
        There was a knock on his trailer door. He opened it to discover his girlfriend on the step. “Charlotte!”  
        She rushed into his arms.  “I had to kiss you before you go.”
        Holding her close, he whispered. “Will you marry me?”
        She gasped. “When?”
        “Tonight, in Las Vegas.”
        She laughed. “What if you’re in a casket?”
        “Would you come to my funeral?”
        “Yeah, no!”





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