1) The venom sheep got out and are in the forest and have eaten all the corn trees, so herd them back for gold or a sword that’s worse than the one you have.

2) Please deliver a marriage proposal to Bruiser.

3) The chief’s daughter has been kidnapped. Convert her bedroom into a rental.

4) Win a pie-eating contest. Gemma can’t win. Not again.

5) All the snakes in the Pit need names. And sweaters. Get in there. Knit. Name.

6) Go away.

1. Dry Gulch Sam, a mascot character with a giant foam head, who is tied to the well in the town’s center.
2. Lamb, a lamb.
3. The Bartender, who ignores all questions and never offers a name.
4. Jacksonian Emmet, the “revenue-er” and his wagon of forms.
5. Sheriff Able Goodpowder, who has moved her rocking chair into the graveyard outside of town where she sits, reading and waiting.
6. A fish. In a bowl. With a knife.

In a world… where brick walls have been OUTLAWED…

[footage of military types demolishing a wall w/ a machine gun]

One… person… STANDS UP!

[a dirty individual with a person-sized brick wall strapped to their back walks into the light of a camp fire holding a mic-shaped stick]

comic: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! So great to see you all this evening–

a voice from the fire: He’s got A WALL!

THIS SUMMER… THE WALLS COME DOWN!

[PG]

1) The navigation AI has fallen for the medical AI and they’ve circumvented the logical barriers separating them. Neither is useful as they… commingle.

2) Space puppies. Gotta stop and pet ’em. And not ask how they got in.

3) There’s more space than there was a little while ago and you’re in the middle.

4) General strike. Laser guillotine.

5) Dracula.

6) Corporate says all systems are pay-for-play now. Crew has terrible credit.

By the age of 35, retirement experts say you should:
* Be master of the thundering fist
* Have survived a score of tournaments on remote islands hosted by villains, fighting your way though entire circles of henchmen who attack 1-on-1
* Have, like, $18 in assets. Be reasonable. I mean, who’s gonna pay you to, like, “thunder fist” all over the place? Are they hiring at the Thunder Fist Factory? That’s not even a thing. C’mon.

1 – The giant scorpions that will eat you once night falls are providing a decent amount of shade as they hover over you, waiting.

2 – Your solar-powered music-playing wristband is still playing your GOOD TIMES JAMZ music mix which keeps spirits up.

3 – Whoever rescues you is going to feel REAL good about themselves.

4 – Man it’s hot.

5 – So hot… too hot to…

6 – …

Olly / Ollie
The Don’t-Fall-Down
Leaving My Briefcase in a Public Trashcan for Good
Gifting a Squirrel with a Necktie (Goofy Foot)
The Ol’ Rolling the Board Back and Forth

If you have an emergency, please contact Tony Hawk and conference me in please.

Please also note I may not come in tomorrow either.

The VHS store only has one shelf of foreign films and fully one third of them seem to be about sexual awakenings of Europeans. Some are kung-fu flicks. Black and white films about villagers somewhere.

All the good tapes on the New Releases are gone already. Just lines of box art and no plastic clamshells behind. Mom’s got the rental card anyway, so your vote isn’t going to go far.

Up front by the cash register: loose bags of microwave popcorn, large boxes of candy, Take/Leave a Penny.

Flush with paper route money, Lee & I would hit the grocery store, picking up the sorts of foods that middle school students are somehow immune to: 2-liters of soda. Little Debbie snacks.

Next: VHS rental. Stuff like CYBORG with its rain-drenched face-kicking, hands-and-barbed-wire pathos.

Then upstairs, no parents home, Fine Young Cannibals played on dubbed blank cassette while Lee crouched on his bed, swinging nunchucks, denting the wood-paneled walls with wild swings and laughing.

me: What’s this?

a devil: It’s just this board full of photos. We just need you to indicate which of them are store fronts.

me: They’re all blurry.

a devil: Yeah, but like… try.

me: Okay, but… okay, this one? Probably?

a devil: Keep going. We can’t let any robots into hell.

me: What

a robot devil: That one’s not a store front. Try again, dummy.