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That Damn Cat

When Dan got home, he couldn’t believe is eyes. Virtually everything that was on a level surface had been knocked over. The priceless Ming vase lay in pieces on the floor. There were shards of glass in the kitchen. Even a jar of uncooked popcorn had been knocked over.             “What happened here?” he demanded.             “What do you mean?” replied Felix, the orange cat.             “What do I mean? You knocked everything off the counter! And the table! It looks like you even added a couple things on the counters just to knock them off!”             “Oh, that,” replied Felix. “That was all Andy’s doing.” Andy sat in the corner, silent, with his tail slowly moving back and forth.             “Andy is a...
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Watch out!

“Watch out!” yelled Jim, violently pushing Scott down to the ground. Scott had been looking the other way to see if the swings were free and didn't see it coming. “Look at him. He’s gonna cry.” Jim mocked. The other kids on the playground, at least the ones close by, were all looking now. Scott wasn’t crying before, but as soon as Jim said it, he could feel the hot tears starting to form. “What’s a matter, did that hurt?” Jim taunted him again. “No,” Scott replied, trying to make his voice sound normal and not like it was about to break. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t really afraid of Jim, but he knew he couldn’t beat him in a fight. He didn’t want to be standing here with everyone staring at him. He just wanted to be on the swings. He just wanted to enjoy his recess. Just then, the teacher blew her whistle, letting everyone know it was time to come in. Jim just smirked and walked away. The others followed, some because he was the leader and others because th...
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The Band Name

Rob and Dan had just created the greatest band in history. Already they had written such masterpieces as “Tittyfuck”, “Beer”, and “The Existential Search for Meaning”. Now all they needed was a name. Nothing seemed to fit though. Dan had suggested “Bitchin’ Hoedown,” meant ironically, since they both hated country music. However, Rob wasn’t satisfied. “It should be something that lets people know how awesome we are,” Rob mused, “something that lets them know we’ll straight up fuck their mothers.” “How about ‘The Motherfuckers,’” suggested Dan. “It’s a start,” replied Rob, stroking his chin-beard thoughtfully, “but I feel like it should be something more. Like, ‘The Motherfuckers Who Fuck Your Mothers.’” “That’s good,” Dan correctly observed. “Maybe even something like, ‘The Motherfuckers Who Fuck Your Mothers, Motherfucker.’” “Did you just called me a motherfucker?” asked Rob, surprised. “No, I’m saying that’s what we should call it.” “Oh, I get it. So, you’re saying we ...
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