Crater Face

"Dude you gotta go up and talk to that chick, she is eyeballin' you big time."

"Dude I saw her here before, forget about it!"

"Whattayou nuts, dude she's hot!"

"Through a telescope maybe, up close it's a different story!"

"What?"

"Dude, she's got more craters than the sea of Tranquility!"

"No!"

"Yeah! It's true! I heard in five years Nasa is planning a manned mission to her face!"

"Ahhh no! Get out!"

"Forgettaboutit! She takes her makeup off, half the guys on her block turn into werewolves!"

"Ahhh you're killin' me dude stop it!"

"Naw naw dude, serious now, she used to date Neil Armstrong, for real! He went in to give her a kiss goodnight, almost ran out of fuel looking for a place to touchdown! Yeah! Yeah dude, Buzz Aldrin wanted some of that but Neil got there first!"

"Dude stop! I'm gonna puke!"

"Nah, I'm just playin', dude, she's a nice girl. If it wasn't for her there would be no high tide, know what I'm sayin! But for real, my buddy got with her once."

"No really?"

"Sure, when he was done they gave him a ticker tape parade down fifth avenue! No, dude, I'm just fuckin' around they had a real nice dinner together."

"Really?"

"Oh sure, for desert they had some Tang and freeze dried ice cream! After that she let him stay at her place, long drive home though, 240,000 miles! Know what I'm sayin'."

"Dude stop here she comes."

"Whoa! She has a killer body though."

"Yeah dude, I never noticed that."

"Dude, hang out I'm gonna go say hello."

"YO! what the fuck!? I saw her first, dude!"

No Custom Pies!

The customer shuffles slowly up to the counter with his hands in his pockets and a grimace of intense concentration on his face. Never taking his eyes off the menu just above Tony's head he says, "Howyadoin'?"
"What can I get ya?" Tony says rubbing his hairy hands together in the slightly flickering fluorescent light of the pizza shop. "Ummmm, gimme a large Tony Special", shrugging his shoulders like there was nothing else he could order.
"You got it." says Tony punching the dough with the well rehearsed movements of a prize fighter. "Actually, throw a few pineapples on that" the customer says as an after thought. "Tony special don't come with pineapple." Tony says looking at the customer as if he were a grade school student.
"Yeah, yeah, just throw a few on for me, I like a pineapple with my jalapenos." He began to take a large stack of napkins from the metal tin on the greasy table behind him.
"No custom pies" Tony says dropping the dough into the light dusting of flour on the counter. "What?"
"No custom pies, I said. You want pineapples get a Hawaiian deluxe, or else no pineapples." Tony now pointing up to the menu without breaking eye contact.
"Whoa, take it easy, I'm not askin' for a custom pie, I'm just askin' if you can take a few pineapples and throw 'em on there."
"Look, you take a handful of pineapples throw 'em on a Tony Special, it aint a Tony Special no more, it's a You special, and since You don't make pies here you don't get to make a special, only I do, you know why? Because I'm Tony, and this is my place, that's why." He begins pounding the dough again shaking his head in disgust.
"So what's the big deal?"
"The big deal is this, I make your pie YOUR way then everybody's gonna want that. It will be in the New York Post, on NY 1, John Stewart on the Daily Show will be telling the whole city 'Hey, go to Tony's! He don't make is own pies, he's just some fuckin' idiot standing behind a counter waiting to be told how to make a pie by every Starbucks drinkin' fatchalagots in the city!' I'll be a clown, a laughin' stock, I'll lose my business, my wife! I got three kids in school!" Tony began to become dizzy and had to steady himself on the counter. He was sweating profusely and the large veins in his neck were pounding.
"Do you know how stupid that sounds, Tony?" the customer says, smacking himself in the forehead, sending long strands of greasy hair into his eyes.
"No, no I don't! If I DID know how stupid it sounded, I wouldn't have said it, now would I?" Tony was beginning to regain his composure.
"Well, you understand how stupid it is now dontchya?"
"Yeah, I understand it NOW, but that's only because you told me."
The customer now looking at Tony with a confusion in his eyes that said "I don't know where this conversation is going".
"Hey" Tony said, "I know a lot of things, I know that light is both a particle and a wave, I know that the Earth day is increasing by .oo18 seconds a century because the moon is drifting away at a rate of 3.8 centimeters a year, I know that 142857 is a cyclic number, i.e., its digits are rotated around when multiplied by any number from 1 to 6. Like this:

142857 × 1 =  142857 
142857 × 5 = 7 14285
142857 × 4 = 57 1428
142857 × 6 = 857 142
142857 × 2 = 2857 14
142857 × 3 = 42857 1

But just because I know that shit don't mean I could have come up with it myself, alright.
Now, I ain't gonna tell you again, NO CUSTOM PIES! Got it?"
"Yeah Yeah, alright keep your fuckin' pineapples, I'm going to Luigi's!"
the customer says waving Tony off and walking out.
"Alright, say hi to your mom for me, Chris." Tony says going back to punching his dough.
"Yeah, yeah...ok Tony, see ya."

The Amazing Mr. Kitley: The Final Chapter

Walter slowly opened the door to Mr. Kitley's room.
"Misstah Kitley?" He whispered in a kind and slightly condescending voice. "Mr. Kitley, you in there suhh?"
"Yes Walter, I'm here, over by the bed." A weak voice drifted out from the stale air.
Walter poked his head through the door, one hand on the door knob the other on the handle of a twelve inch, razor sharp knife he picked up in the kitchen.
"OH! There you is Mr. Kitley! How you feelin' now? All good? Ready to go to the zoo? Ready to go see that panda bear that's there waitin fo' us?"
"Yes...yes Walter, I'm ready to see the panda bear." Kitley resigned.
"Oh! Missstah Kitley! That's great, that's just wonderful news! I'm just so happy!" Walter strode into the room beaming, the knife still clearly out of sight, pressed up against the back of his white jacket.
"Alright Mr. Kitley, let's get you dressed!" Walter walked over to the wardrobe, threw the doors open with one hand. He examined the the strange collection of hanging garments and pondered for a moment what the panda bear might respond to the best. Perhaps something casual...an ascot and a pair of chinos? Or maybe some formal attire, something black and white.
"So what should we go with Mr. Kitley, something casual or something more appropriate for this momentous occasion?" Walter swung his head around with a huge smile and lightly closed eyes. He was met with a heavy brass paper weight across the chin. A hot white flash of pain and shock shot through Walter's face and settled in the back of his head. His legs buckled, and he dropped his knife. It slid across the floor and under Kitley's bed. His face hit the highly polished floor and three teeth, roots and all, bounced out across the floor leaving little tippy toes of blood in their trail.
Walter, stunned, tried to get to his feet, but in a moment Kitley was on top of him with both of his white bony hands wrapped around his throat. Kitley struggled with all of his strength to keep a hold. Walter, his eyes bulging reached blindly under the bed for the knife. Patting his hand around he finally felt the handle, grabbed it and smashed Kitley across the temple. Kitley collapsed and rolled to one side, instantly Walter, a much younger man, was on top of him, pressing the cold blade to his neck. Kitley's paper thin skin crinkled and began to give way to the blade.
"Don't make me do this Mr. Kitley! I don't wanna take your head off, but I will!"
Just as Kitley was losing the struggle the house cat, Theodora, entered the room and strode up to the two men. Her head was cocked to one side and she seemed to understand the contest afoot. Their six eyes locked. The two men were transfixed. Slowly the pressure of the blade began to give way and the both bodies began to relax. Walter started to whisper "Ninteen...sixty-two..." Then Mr. Kitley, "Forty-six...twelve...eighteen..."
The two men turned to each other and started to laugh. Theodora ran out of the room just as Katelyn Kitley appeared. "What on Earth is going on here?" She said, looking at the two men on the floor. "Oh, ummm, nothing dear, I...um...fell and Walter was helping me up."
"Yes, uh...yeeesss missss Katelyn I was helping your father up and then I done fell over too! How 'bout that!?" Katelyn shrugged in annoyance and left the room calling for Theodora. Walter turned to Mr. Kitley, "We's gonna be rich Mr. Kitley, you know dat!?"
"I am rich, Walter, I am rich."


The End

Static

The only meaningful thing that you get out of television is the sentence you hear the moment before you turn it off. Because that bit, that kernel of knowledge, that fragment of an idea will cause your mind to work on its own. The television is a hijacker. It grabs hold of your mind like a wrestler. It causes it to spin and think but won't let you reflect. A mind thinking without reflection is an idle motor, burning up precious fossil fuels without going anywhere. The spinning mind is in a state of flux, malleable, susceptible, weak and exposed. Fertile. Any idea can be implanted and its evolution controlled. When the vile contraption is switched off you go spinning off on your own, reflecting, examining, you have time to digest instead of constantly eating...shit.

Calculus, Motherf@$#er!

Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz squinted his eyes in the low candle light of his small study. The calculations on his parchment were complete. He tossed his quill triumphantly into its well and stood tall amongst his papers. "I have invented calculus!" He exclaimed to the heavens. "I am a genius!"
At that exact moment a loud crash came upon his chamber door. Then again, and again. Finally the door burst forth revealing a shining white, high heeled shoe and stocking clad leg.
"What the fuck did you just say, bitch!?"
Sir Isaac Newton stood in the doorway, a halo of white powder drifting around his wig and heavily made up face.
"I SAID I just invented Calculus" Leibniz gestured to his many papers, "And who you callin' Bitch, Bitch?"
"I'm callin' you bitch, punk! I invented calculus! And you're gonna need some mad differentials to calculate how infinitesimal your nuts are gonna be when I'm done stompin' on 'em!" Newton began rolling up his frilly sleeves and cracking his knuckles.
"Try it fool, and I'll smack that sissy-ass powdered wig straight of yo' head!" Said Leibniz brushing back his thick black curls.
"At least my wig don't look like some busted-ass jerry curl!"
"JERRY CURL?!" Leibniz grabbed a shining, curved blade that sat on his desk.
"Ahh Ahhh Ahhh." Newton said wagging his finger back and forth as he lifted up the lacy hem of his waistcoat to reveal the highly polished rosewood handle of a single shot, front loading pistol. He cocked his head to the side, screwed up his face and said "Oh, what? Not so big now, huh. C'mon big man, come at me your blade, I dare ya."
Leibniz dropped his knife leaving it standing in the floor with a twang. "We'll see what the Royal Society has to say about this, Newton."
"Yeah, we'll see." Said Newton as he slowly walked out of the room without breaking eye contact.

Read more about this and other historical events at your local library. For more on the invention of Calculus go to:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calculus

The Amazing Mr. Kitley: Part Two

Mr. Kitley rang his bell furiously, foam shooting from the corners of his mouth. Katelyn ran into the room with one hand on her heart the other in the air.
"What is it Father!? What's wrong!?"
Kitley began jabbering furiously while still ringing the bell. The foamy spit and words mingling together into a lost concoction of madness.
"Father, Father!" Katelyn yelled as she grabbed the bell from his shaking hand. "In the good lord's name what's going on here?"
Walter continued to make the bed ignoring the scene completely.
"It's...IIItttt's Walter! It's Walter, he's gone mad!"
"Mad?"
"Yes, yes, yes he is going to cut my head off show it to a telepathic panda bear and make millions, millions I tell you! Then he is going to feed my face to the lions! He told me all about it just a moment ago!"
"Father! what the hell are you talking about! Walter?"
"Can we speak outside for a moment Ms. Katelyn?" Walter said calmly with a slight peppering of concern.
"Yes, Walter" Katelyn said, a little shaken, the pounding of her heart clearly visible in supple pressure of her cleavage.
"NO! No, don't leave me alone Katelyn!" Kitley pleaded.
"It's fine Father, I'll be right outside the door. Please Walter, come this way."
"Yessum" said Walter leaving the bed undone.
The two made there way out of the room, first Katelyn then Walter. As Walter closed the door he glared back at Kitley with a demonic little smile then, click, the door was closed.
"What is going on, Walter? Is he ok?"
"Well Ms. Katelyn..." Walter's voice became low and serious, he took her by the hand and cast his eyes to the ground.
"He has good days, and he has some bad days too, today, ummmm might be one of them bad days."
"OH Walter!" Ms. Katelyn began to cry and collapsed into Walters caring arms.
"It's OK, it's Ok, child. He gonna be alright, I'll see him through this. We's gonna go to the zoo today and see his favorite panda bear, get us some fresh air it's gonna be alllllllriiiiight."
"But, but, didn't he say he was afraid of the panda bear?"
"You just leave everything to me Ms. Katelyn, he gonna right as rain by tomarrah, I promise you that."
"Ok Walter, see to it, please. I have to go lay down now, it's time for my medicine."
"Yes, yes Ms. Katelyn you have yourself a good rest."
"Thank you, Walter."
Katelyn made her unsteady trek up the long staircase for her long medicinal nap. Walter watched her drift up the stairs like a ghost and knew the minute she was in her her room she would have the door locked, medicine cooked and shot. She would be out for hours. Mr. Kitley was easy prey.

Tune in next week for the shocking conclusion!