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Oscar Night

Oscar Night — we are encamped just outside the Black Gate to Celebrity Village. The ten-storey doors rumble open just enough to release a floating disembodied mouth.

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Previously on The Hairy Skeleton...

Dirt… From Mars!

ENTHUSIASTIC KID: Hey! Let’s eat some of this dirt from Mars!

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GROOVY AUTOBUS.

Tolerance ranges vary from deployment to deployment, based on extant arousal levels on the four major indices (fear, anxiety, desire, other).

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House of Haunted Houses.

The barker— a pallid, ectomorphic Jesus in a candy-striped vaudeville suit— stands atop a raised entry platform, swinging his cane and making tricks with his straw hat. He lets a little kid pull a chunk out of his beard; its patchiness suggests he’s been letting children do that for some time.

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Sentimental Favorites

My most beloved word-babies.

Polestars and Overcompensation.

You don’t know what irony is. Huh.

That makes sense. You’re five. And your brother’s three, so we won’t even ask him. Is he asleep? That’s fine. Is his hood up? Good. Remind me to explain irony later. Maybe when you’re seven. I think that’s when I learned about it. Yeah. Seven sounds about right.

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Life Among the Savages

A serial entertainment.

One man’s quest to find a mystical land, and the injuries he incurs while he searches.

Life Among the Savages, Part 22.

‘So we will have to be careful, like spies,’ said my brother. I nodded vigorously – for what young boy does not entertain dreams of being a skilled intelligencer, pursuing secretive duties for crown and country, reliant on wits and nerve alone while plunged deep within enemy terrain?

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A Totally Random Story

Chosen solely by math.

A Call to Arms (unless that arm wants to use a trumpet)

On the way to work today, I saw a guy in his car, at a stoplight, playing the trumpet. I could tell even in the short time it took me to pass him that he was merely “warming up,” checking the action on the keys, clearing the spit valve, sounding out a few test notes. […]

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