Thursday, October 20, 2016

Open Sesame (FF)

FF - Friday Fictioneers
Copyright Claire Fuller 

“Now it’s a three quarter turn to the seashell,” said Quarto, "and then we pull the mustache off the little dummy head.” 

“Right, and then the duck sculpture goes on the top shelf,” continued Gruskin “while I wrap the blue string all around you ...”

“You what?”

“Sorry, Quarto, that’s the combination.”

With the movement of the string, the entire panel detached and swung wide open.

“Oh, boy, two eggs!” exclaimed Quarto.  

“Great, kid, now close and lock the refrigerator!  We don't want anyone to stumble on to it.”

In the year 2237 food had become so scarce that all refrigerators had to be camouflaged and kept locked under combination.

That is, if you ever wanted to eat.


Looks like things are going to be tough in 2237, so I'd say best to have a little something to eat right now. And have a Coke and a smile with it too.

You can click here for the stories by the other Friday Fictioneers based on the picture prompt above. Read 'em while you eat.

Okay I'm closing the refrigerator now.  Think you know combination?  Don't forget to yank the mustache off the little dummy head!

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Presidential Pen Pal

Guess what?  

Hillary Clinton's been writing to me!  That's right, she's sending personal e-mails directly to me. With any luck they'll be on WikiLeaks before you know it and I'll be as famous as Ken Bone, but actually a little cuter even at this age.  

"Perry," the Democratic candidate for President of the United States wrote to me, "I'm so proud you're on our team!" 

She's proud of me!  Do you believe that?  Hillary Clinton is proud of me! Frankly I've never even met Secretary Clinton or been so fortunate as to ever go through a scandal with her.

Perhaps it was my vote for George McGovern in 1972?  Or that I voted for Michael Dukakis in 1988 except that was only because I got him confused with Olympia Dukakis?  Or maybe it was the letter of appreciation I wrote to President Clinton for doing it with a Jewish chick in the 90’s? 

I guess probably not that one.

And believe it or not, it isn’t just Secretary Clinton who’s been firing up the private server to shoot questionably appropriate e-mails my way. I'm getting personal e-mails from Tim Kaine, Elizabeth Warren, Robby Mook, Robert Reich, and more!  I guess my old pal Hillary must have clued them in to me because all of their e-mails close with a warm personal message that I can tell was written expressly for me:
"Because we know what a strong advocate you are for Hillary and the future of our country, Perry, we’ve been thinking of you. Therefore I’m asking you to chip in $1 or more to protect our country’s future right now."
Yep, they all really do know me.  Except or the "or more" part.
Oh, I almost forget.  Al Franken, the SNL comic turned Senator from Minnesota actually prepared a video about the upcoming race just for me! I'm certainly honored. Take a look by clicking here, but don’t share it.  I’ll need Al’s approval for that first.
You know, all this attention from Hillary Clinton and the others is just wonderful and I’m sorry I’m way behind in writing back to each one, although I did send Al a few jokes; maybe I can get his old job. One thing, however, does bother me. 
Shouldn’t Hillary be out campaigning instead of writing to me?

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Yet Another Comes Forward

 Ms. Carlyle levels her shocking allegation 

  A woman has now come forward and claimed that she has never been sexually harassed or assaulted in any manner whatsoever by either Donald Trump or Bill Clinton.  The woman, Jane Carlyle of Collingswood NJ, has alleged emphatically that despite ample opportunity available to each man throughout Ms. Carlyle’s 37 years, neither one of them has ever attempted to have sex with her!

This is the first known instance in which a woman has approached the media to allege that neither the present Republican candidate for President of the United States or the 42nd President of the United States has ever groped or fondled her.

“It’s been a harrowing experience,” said Carlyle, an accountant from Collingswood NJ. “I vividly recall the evening of March 14, 2008.  I came home from work, watched some TV, and went to bed.  I had no contact with Mr. Trump or Mr. Clinton whatsoever, let alone sexual assault!"  

Both Donald Trump and Bill Clinton have vigorously denied that they did not come on to Carlyle, and Trump has even suggested he rounded the bases.

“Look at her!” thundered Trump at his last rally. “Wish I could tell Billy about this one!”

For his part, Bubba just sighed.


Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Vlad the Retailer Meets Trump-en-stein

I don't know many celebrities, but I am privileged to know at least one. And believe it or not, the one I know is not your average celebrity but one of the members of the shadowy and dark Legions of the Undead.

He is the  Legendary Jewish Vampire, Vlad the Retailer! 

I met Vlad some years again when vampires were the thing, before zombies were the thing, before deplorables were the thing, and even before clowns were - wait for it - the thing. There was a vampire onslaught in Philadelphia that October and Vlad and I became fast friends after we determined that he was allergic to my blood type, especially after I heavily seasoned it with garlic.  

As it turned out Vlad had been bar mitzvahed long ago in 1257.  A regular part of the ceremony back in those days was the lovely and traditional burning at the stake performed by local village anti-Semites. Vlad himself was able to bypass the ritual when he proudly announced according to ages old tradition "Today I eat a man."

The anti-Semites decided to put him on their waiting list.

"Vlad!"  I exclaimed, as he flew through my window in bat-like form and transformed himself before my very eyes into someone who looked like your Uncle Murray, only with fangs. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure," he replied,"I'd love to crack open a veinski!"

"You'll take a Cokeski.  What brings you here?"

"I heard some idiot is running for President of your country. Thought maybe I could rip his throat out for you?"

After some discussion, we decided that  compared to forming a Political Action Committee, raising 25 million dollars, hiring a top-notch public relations firm, developing highly polished negative advertising, and purchasing air time for the highly polished negative advertising from coast to coat, ripping Donald Trump's throat out might be a pretty good idea.  So we headed for North Carolina where Trump was speaking, me on a commercial airliner and Vlad in the avatar of a flying rodent in a fetching cape. 

"I'll go on ahead," said Vlad, "and when I get there, I'll order you someone ... I mean, something to eat."

When we finally got to the rally the next day Vlad was aghast.  But he wasn't all right now, in fact he was aghast!   (rimshot) 

"What does that sign mean - Trump Pence?" he asked.  "This jerk is already renaming your money after himself?"

"No, no, it's not that," I answered, "we don't have pence in America. That refers to Mike Pence, Trump's running mate; he holds the indoor record for haircuts in a minute."

"Foreigners are pouring into our country!" Trump shouted.  "Muslims, Mexicans, Benedict Cumberbatch!"

"Damn," sniffed Vlad, "he doesn't like anybody, does he?"

"He likes Vladimir Putin," I whispered. "They hang out, discuss totalitarianism, and do each other nails."

"I'm building a wall!" he cried.

"He's building a wall?" said Vlad. "Around his mouth, I hope. Who's that big fat guy?" 

"That's Chris Christie.  He's the shameless, ass-licking, opportunistic  Governor of New Jersey."

"Well, he looks delicious! And who's the hottie next to him?"

"That's Melania, Trump's third wife. Trump manufactured her in one of his plants in Malaysia."

"And Transylvania isn't sending us their best!" bellowed Trump. "They're sending vampires, they're sending werewolves, they're sending the Bride of Frankenstein who's put on 60 pounds since 1935 and has to do something with that hair!"

"That's it!" cried Vlad, leaping into the air towards the stage."That idiot is toast! Rye toast with chopped chicken liver!"

"Go get 'em, Vlad!" I  yelled.

Vlad assumed the shape of a bat and swooped across the crowd directly toward Trump, then took a swift  detour straight toward the shapely neck of Melania Trump!

"Vlad, what are you doing?" I cried.

"Sorry, man.  If I have to spend eternal life with anybody, I think I might prefer the mannequin to the orange-haired idiot." 

And they were off. 

So maybe the Legendary Jewish Vampire, Vlad the Retailer didn't fully get the job done, but for a blood-sucking creature of the night, he's a mensch.

Maybe I should have gotten me a clown.  After all, it takes a clown to bring down a clown.


Miss Electrified Piggy?

                   Dinner for a Vampire?