At Dinner's Close

"This isn't ham, is it?" Richard asked. He stared at the thing on his plate, which stunk.

"No," Doreen replied. She watched something drip from the thing's side. "I thought it was. But I guess it's not."

The thing began to quiver and bubble and move slowly off the plate, trailing breadcrumbs and chives as it made its way toward some unfathomable destination.

The Fall of the Rise of Falling

The secretary opened the door to the office. "Mr. Potatatoson, your son has died. Sorry."

Phil Potatatoson leaned back in his desk chair. "Is it Thursday already?" He wondered. He touched the fat on his thigh, and then the fat on his cheeks. It felt good. Good and soft and cushiony.

The Last Good Kiss

"You are so doomed," the kitten said to Remy.

Remy sat down on the sofa. "Doomed," he said. Doomed, doomy doom doomed, he thought. Then he looked at the kitten, Patches 14, who had never spoken before. "My friend," Remy said, "My beautiful new friend. Come and kiss me on the lips."

Patches 14 did just that. It kissed Remy, and then pryed his jaws open and climbed into his throat, where it planted bee eggs and cactus seeds.

The Loss of Marmalade

Timbo gripped the shaft of his spear. "Could you pass the marmalade," he asked.

"What?" responded Christine.

"Marmalade," Timbo said, louder. He tugged at the bottom of his loin cloth. She can never hear me over the fan, he thought, and by the time I get the marmalade my toast is cold. The ants climbed up the leg of the chair and kissed his titties before being sucked into the exhaust fan.

The Raindrops of the End

The Weasel squatted, sniffing. I followed his gaze north, through the barrio. I knew the magnetic poles would be shifting soon. My compass would be useless, and The Weasel was the only one who knew the way back. But his stench was unbearable. Each time it wafted over me, I gagged. And the daily headlocks! My God, I thought. What bitter days we know as men.

The Doomening

"You will never poop again," the alien said.

Sara stared at it and wondered how it had gotten in the stall, since the creature was at least eight feet tall, and broad. It loomed over her as she sat on the toilet. "But that's something people need to do," she said. But even as she said it, she could feel a warmth below. Her sphincter was fusing together, and she was doomed.

After the End of the City

Gerald watched as the shape of the huge Rho Beast faded into the smoke from the burning buildings and into the trees beyond the city. Gerald thought about the itchy spot on his arm. "It burns," he thought, "when I scratch it too much." He gummed the bandaid in his mouth and tried not to itch.