Plugs

David Kopaska-Merkel’s book of humorous noir fiction based on nursery rhymes, Nursery Rhyme Noir 978-09821068-3-9, is sold at the Genre Mall. Other new books include The zSimian Transcript (Cyberwizard Productions) and Brushfires (Sams Dot Publishing).

Jason Fischer has a story appearing in Jack Dann’s new anthology Dreaming Again.

Sara Genge’s story “Godtouched” may be found in Strange Horizons.

Luc Reid writes about the psychology of habits at The Willpower Engine. His new eBook is Bam! 172 Hellaciously Quick Stories.

Daft Tales

by Edd

“Rumpelstiltskin. Final answer.”

When the Princess married the pirate Bluebeard, he warned her never ever to open a certain door. And she didn’t.

“A Kevlar sock?” said Achilles. “Cool!”

Witches proving to be a more durable building material than gingerbread, Hansel and Gretel were soon millionaire contractors with ties to the Mafia.

“My, what a big schlong you have, Grandmother,” Red Riding Hood said, triggering the proofreader’s seizure.

When Paul Bunyan was born, he weighed a hundred pounds. Oh, his poor, poor mother.

“Go ahead,” said Lot to his wife. “Look back. See if I care.” So of course she didn’t.

That night, the lion caught the soon-to-be-late mouse sticking thorns into the paws of the rest of his pride.

“I’m going to have to let all of you go. There are elves willing to work cheaper in a sweatshop overseas.”

The princess tossed; the princess turned. Finally she rolled off the soaring stack of mattresses and broke her neck.

“Here is my curse. On her eighteenth birthday she will prick her finger on an iPod headphone jack and die.”

And when the cat said, “A cat may look upon a king,” he was burned as a witch’s familiar.

“First wish, bring me every other item or being capable of granting wishes, with complete instructions.”

To pass the Sirens, Odysseus was tied to the mast while his men put melted beeswax in their ears. After a trip to the emergency room, his men were treated and released.

“Frogs legs! We eat tonight,” said the princess.

When Babe the Blue Ox was born, his mother exploded.

Someone’s been sleeping in my bed. And she tasted just right.

He wasn’t even a very pretty swan.

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