Mistakes are the Portal of Disco
With a shattering KERPLUCK! the tree very near Fob blew apart, sending little toothpicks in all directions.
"The trouble we're going to have, I can see, is boxing them all now." Already Milton was down on his hands and knees, collecting the rampant toothpicks from the floor.
"You might want to keep your floor a little cleaner, until you do, at any rate," Fob said.
Milton looked exactly like you'd expect a Milton to look like: white lab coat, thick rimmed glasses, a tongue depressor in the lapel pocket of the coat, and a metal box with a button on it placed carefully by his knee, as he crawled about on the floor, collecting new toothpicks.
Fob was down in the toothpick district to have a look into a few "incidents", Milton had told him about, over the phone. In fact, Milton helpfully prefaced the conversation with Fob by telling him that he was making quotation marks with his fingers when he said "incidents".
It was one of many touches Milton attempted that made Fob increasingly on edge... it was normally more difficult than this. He was used to the hustlers and slippery, covered-in-exploded-fish shop owners, insisting nothing was out of the ordinary about twenty tons of fish, blown into very, very small chunks, almost purée-like, slowly washing down into the gutter and out to sea, eventually. From dust to dust, from ocean to ocean. From fish purée to fish purée. Life was simple, from a three thousand foot view, not so much when you were standing knee deep in fish guts, without your waders.
Later, in his office, though, as his head slumped forward and down into the Chinese takeaway he'd ordered, Fob knew that maybe Milton had something else in mind when he'd demonstrated his new toothpick creation mechanism before showing off the scene of the "incidents". His last glimpse was of a white lab-coated fuzzy blob entering his office just over the top of a baby corn.
disclaimer:
We hope you enjoyed that, whatever it was.
Oh, and thanks to William Murphy for this week's issue, and appearance of the intrepid detective, Fob Jones.
Support Sane:
Tshirts & clothing: The Sane Magazine Shop at Cafe Press
- New designs coming soon, so these limited edition shirts may be worth bazillions of dollars! I swear. I promise you... you just wait... wait for it... waaaaait for it...
A Book: Fenway Fiction
Or, visit our new store at Amazon... check out some of the books that inspire or otherwise provoke the Sane Magazine writers.
And we've added a new book, Chicken Soup Back Pain series. Because at Sane Magazine we are predisposed towards back pain. Well, not really. Well, okay, sometimes we are.
Anyway, that's not the point. The point is: Buy stuff through our online store. And there's no use crying over spilt milk. Or tea.
Discuss this in the forums
Discuss the horoscopes in the forums
Forum hosting provided by forumthing.