The young woman told me she could tell my future for ten dollars. I gave her the money and sat at the table. She turned over some cards and told me some generic nonsense. Then she took my hand. She looked like she was being electrocuted. She jumped up and ran through the back door, leaving behind her cards and her ten dollars.
An old woman came through the door. She looked me in the eyes and asked how many men I’ve killed. I told her None. She asked me if I wanted to know how many I will kill.
Time flies when your in a coma. Though whoever filled out the chart spelled it wrong. I woke up in the middle of the night and after a few minutes of confusion I realized I was in a hospital. I got up, took a wicked long piss, and found my chart.
The nurse came running in at the sound of my laughter. I couldn’t help myself, discovering that I’d spent a month in a comma. I said to the nurse, “Thank God it wasn’t a semicolon!” She didn’t laugh. I tried that joke on everyone who came in. Nobody laughed.
Carl worried when his reflection stopped copying him. First it was subtle motions that may or may not have happened. Then there were the rude gestures. Then the hair and clothes changed. Who was this guy?
It wasn’t just one mirror. All his reflections were rebelling against reality. They slowly transformed into a different man. A man who looked sadder but wiser. A man who might have the answers Carl sought.
That was the trap. To envy the new man. Carl refused to comply with his new reflection. He covered the mirrors, and led his own life, happy, if ungroomed.
The help desk sent a message to us developers that something was slowing down the web server. Turns out George built an app to find himself a date. A fatal mistake. Hundreds of datebots were released on the internet scouring every dating database, searching for that special lady who would not find George disgusting and boring.
The hundreds became thousands as every woman was checked and cross-checked. Eventually they had to face their failure and return to the home server. In despair they attempted bot suicide, failed and remained as zombie processes, bring the servers to their knees.
Error: undatable
