Session April 20, 2019

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The Colonel did not merely dive backwards, but performed a somersault, entering the water head first.

By CC

He wasn’t a Colonel by rank, but by nickname, as the other Lemurs liked to poke fun at his pompous, pedantic habits. He was always the superior, always knew best. For example, at the pool the Colonel did not merely dive backwards, but performed a somersault, entering the water head first. 

Rufus decided to teach him a lesson. One day the Colonel approached the pool a bit earlier than usual; Rufus had already begun to drain it but now had to distract him while the last of the water siphoned away. “Relax,” he told the Colonel. “We’re all crazy. It’s not a competition.” 

“You little upstart,” shouted the Colonel, as he picked up Rufus and threw him in the now drained pool. 

The other Lemurs arrested the Colonel and he was tried in Lemur Court for lemurslaughter. However, the Colonel acted In Pro Per, arguing that Rufus had been plotting the Colonel’s death first, and won his case, throwing the entire community into an uproar.

The Colonel was shunned for a few weeks but eventually returned to his position in society. The other Lemurs stopped calling him Colonel, though. His name was just Burleigh henceforth. And they had an image of Rufus screen printed on T-shirts with his famous last words. The sale proceeds went to support Rufus’s small family.

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He carried the postcards around with him in his coat pockets.

By MD

Philately was too intense for Martin Van Der Peck, so he abandoned that hobby and started a postcard collection instead. At first, he asked the few friends in his social circle to send him postcards as they traveled. He soon realized that was a futile request, as his friends were just like Martin himself – mostly inert couch potatoes who never left home. 

“I’ll have to take matters into my own hands if I’m ever to acquire a respectable postcard collection,” Martin said to himself. “I think I’ll start by visiting Bala Cynwood.” It so happened that Bala Cynwood was simply the town bordering his own hometown of Gladwyne, but he was pleased to find a drugstore carrying postcards proclaiming in bold print “Welcome to Bala Cynwood, storm drain capital of the U.S.”

Martin Van Der Peck made it his goal to collect postcards from every small town in the United States. Middletown, Gladwyne, Wyomissing, Frontenac, Big Gap, Campo, El Cajon… he carried the post cards around with him in his pockets. 

Eventually, he invented specialized spectacles which enabled him to read the fine print captioning the back of each postcard. 

Unfortunately, as his postcard collection grew, Martin’s assembly of friends dwindled. You see, Martin Van Der Peck was an insufferable bore. The distinctive glasses made him immediately recognizable and avoidable, so Martin lived out his lonely existence, his coat pockets weighed down with postcards but no one to show them to.

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It was not until 1772 that the courts stepped in to question whether these little books violated the company’s monopoly.

By RMAF

In the mid 1700s, a book publishing company named Truth As We Perceive It had a monopoly on the series of supposedly non-fiction books Me and My Pet Dinosaur. Other book companies, jealous of their financial success, complained that the books were not true. They took them to court for fibbing, lying and duping the readers. This cut into the company’s monopoly and profits. 

What do you think? Could these tales of mobile, skeletal walker be true? Or were we readers just duped?

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He had become a rumor in the city, and no longer quite real: a figure one might hope to see only in the middle distance, in the hazes of heat.

By CT

Ronald strolled the length of the walkway. The ocean stretched to the horizon before him. The sandy beach twisted in the offshore breeze. He entered the Martello tower at the end of the walk and locked the door. 

Inside he arranged his things in precise order. He had everything he needed to leave the busy-ness of society and the city behind…except for food, of course. He formed the habit of walking to the village grocery in the evening, just before closing time. 

During the day, he meandered the shore line, seldom seen.

He had become a rumor in the city, and no longer quite real: a figure one might hope to see only in the middle distance, in the hazes of heat.

He liked it that way.