Session July 4, 2015

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He was sleepwalking at night, which frightened his cat.

By CC

Tamerlane was born very small. He was no bigger than his mother’s thumb and cooed like a dove when she rolled him between her thumb and forefinger. He was easy to raise, so long as they kept him off the ground where they might accidentally step on him, but his physical development always lagged behind his mental capability.

When Tamerlane was 15 he looked like he was 2 months old. It griped at him, but he had a sunny nature. His parents got him a very fat cat from the pound. Little did they know how much this cat would cost them in future, but Tamerlane was a bargain in comparison. Onesies were cheaper than designer jeans and leather jackets.

Tamerlane had some other growth issues. He was sleepwalking at night, which frightened his cat. But the cat was generally too fat to do much but open its eyes wide and stare at the ceiling. They made good companions, generally.

When Tamerlane was 70 he really came into his own. He looked 20 and had the reflexes of a ninja combined with the wiles of a cagy senior citizen. He was a formidable date for young women, whom he finally had the resources to court. However, he was not interested in marriage and family; in fact, he found himself rather less interested in sex than ever before. The irony was not lost on him.

The cat had died years before but he had it stuffed and kept it on his pillow for comfort. That turned out to be enough companionship for him for the coming decades. He died old and left a beautiful corpse.

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"You complain too much," Eric said. "Why don't you focus on the positive for a change?"
by RMAF

"You complain too much," Eric the Explorer said. "Why don't you focus on the positive for a change? Times are hard here in Iceland. I don't have much. Here are two cod liver oil pills and two sardines in exchange for your bear cubs."

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"He had already realized that artistic genius is relative to the perception of the public."
by RC

George was an artist - at least, that is how he thought of himself. But he was not a mainstream artist. You've seen those "artworks" where buildings, bridges and the like have been draped with huge bolts of fabric? Well, George had never done that, but there were quite a few other unusually creative and original kinds of art he did (I use the term "art" loosely). Like the time he dumped tons of food coloring (purchased from a factory which was shutting down) over Niagara Falls. But not all at once: he created a real show, after much fanfare and publicity that he was going to do something spectacular. He had to break through a cordon of guards to do it, but he lived up to his promise. It was kind of a watery fireworks - especially when one guard began to shoot at him.

Now he had already realized that artistic genius is relative to the perception of the public, so he should not have been surprised when his last artistic endeavor went awry. Wrapping what looked like cloth coils around himself and the body of his assistant certainly created a bizarre look. His black combat boots - brightly polished - and her sandals did not ameliorate the look. From ankles to tops of heads, they looked alien. So when the National Guard was called out, with the tanks and bazookas - well, as I said, they should not have been surprised by what followed. Of course, no one got the chance to ask George what he had expected.