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byRC
Charlie was a “hail fellow
well met” kind of penguin. No, nothing like “happy feet,” or those others
you’ve heard about, but he certainly knew how to down a pint now and then. His
TV was always on, usually to the sports channel, and the ice cream was ready
for the special events, when all the guys would be there. Of course, Cheerie,
his mate, was not too fond of those times, but she gave him his freedom, just
as she expected her time with friends now and then. Now, mind you, his little
ice den was not large, but there was enough room for half a dozen other
penguins.
But today there was a
problem: there was no ice cream in the freezer, nor did they have money to go
to the store. Charlie didn’t want to miss one moment of the game; it was the
penguin bowl, and that only happened once a year. His team, the Flippers, was
the favorite against the Honkers. This meant that Cheerie had to go next door and borrow a little from
her friend Cokie to buy ice cream at the nearest Penguin Mart.
However, when Cheerie got to the Penguin Crossing, it didn’t seem
to want to cooperate and headed out to sea. The breezes were simply against
her. Naturally, it ran into the nearest large grouping of ice bergs, so she
didn’t have to swim. She merely hopped off and took the long route around to
the store.
She got back just at the
final play of the game, but even though it was late, the guys were still ready
for some vanilla ice cream.
“Ice cream? Ice cream?”
Cheerie said in reply to their questions. “Uh…” She didn’t want to say that she
had gotten so hungry she had eaten the ice cream, so she ad-libbed. “Cokie,
wasn’t in. Seems her ice berg floated away in the night. I went to all our
neighbors, but they were also gone. You’ll just have to do without.”
Of course, they were all
bummed, and Charlie took a suspicious glance at the little black hairs under
Cheerie’s beak, which seemed to be a bit whitish now, but he merely flapped his
flippers slightly and took another drink. “We won, anyway,” he replied.
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It was unnerving to hear the doubt in his voice.
by MD
He looked so intrepid—the essence of the Crusader’s
gallantry. He stood at the base of the
castle, shield at his side and his sword drawn.
Slowly, his gaze took in the lovely damsel, her flowing locks and her
pleading eyes, as she gripped the bars of the padlocked gate which imprisoned
her.
“Please,
kind Sir, release me from these confines.
I fear for my life, and my captors threaten me hourly with torture . . .
and worse!” Her hands rattled the bars
and her eyes filled with tears.
The
valiant figure of the knight began to heft his sword as he took a step toward
the beauteous lady. He took a deep
breath and squinted through the slit in his helmet, in a desperate attempt to meet
the damsel’s gaze and reassure her of his courage.
“I’m
h…, he…, here, m… my Lady! His voice quavered and his stuttering
intensified. “I’m, ah, your he…
hero. Be at pe… pe… peace, my La… La…
Lady! Preppp..Pr… Prepare for uh, your,
your, fr… fr… freedom.” It was unnerving
to hear the doubt in his voice.
“CUT!”
yelled the Director. “That was
unbelievably bad. Let’s take it
again. Everyone in your places. Quiet on the set. Take 52.
Roll ‘em!” I think maybe this is too big a stretch for
Angelina, mused the Director. She’s
just not cut out for the role of Lancelot.
I'd rather be a bird than a fish, he thought pensively.
by BG
Frank and Jack had never been much for the outdoors but they thought they might as well give it a try since the whole firehouse was participating. They'd left Brooklyn in the middle of the night and arrived in Pennsylvania at the crack of dawn. The adventure outfitters offloaded all the canoes and each of the firefighters were issued a life vest and a paddle. Jack asked Frank who had thought up this field trip. Frank said Seamus O'Brien did. He'd gone with the fire company he transferred from in New Jersey last year and said it had been great fun.
"Well, here goes," said Frank, and they all shoved off from shore. The guide showed them all a few paddling tips and they floated away down the Delaware. The first few hours were peaceful and really not bad. They went ashore for lunch, grilled fish over a campfire, then headed out on the water again.
In the afternoon things fell apart. The canoe hit rocks and the guys just weren't experienced enough to cope with it. They started taking on water. It was only April so still very cold.
Jack exclaimed "Curse Seamus for getting us into this."
Frank was getting way too stressed out. "I am freezing. What are we going to do?" Just then the canoe buckled in the middle and his end sunk and he lost it. As he began beating the water with his paddle he screamed "How are we going to get out of here? I don't want to swim in this river."
Jack remained calm during Frank's tirade. I'd rather be a bird than a fish, he thought pensively.
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I am never at home on Sundays, so don't bother calling.
by RMAF
"How many times must I tell you, Jasper Egnoseous, are you dense in the brain or what? I am never home on Sundays so don't, don't, don't bother calling!"
He believed in reason although it was unreasonable to do so.
by TNT
He believed in reason although it was unreasonable to do so. They were all ready to dance except for him. They were going to practice the dance on the beach. He hated the beach - the sand, the sand flies, the people. But he couldn't refuse to go - it was his choreography.
So he took his lawn chair and sun block and sunglasses. He was still in his pajamas. The dancers were so frisky. Where did they get all that energy? He told them to pretend he wasn't there. They were willing to do that. They knew the steps. He watched as he usually did. After a half-hour of warm-ups he joined them and everything went smoothly.
He was glad he came at the end. Reason didn't matter and unreason was just as good as reason when you danced. Dance was neither logic nor illogic. It was feeling. Feeling was not reasonable. His group was happy. He was feeling better.
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