Archive for the ‘Russell Streur’ Category

By Russell Streur

Camel: I’m parched.
Tavern Door: The door’s open.
Bartender: How’s life treating you, big fella?
Camel: Life’s not treating me at all.
Bartender: How’s that?
Camel: I’m paying for everything.
Bartender: That bad?
Camel: Those slave drivers I work for are killing me.
Bartender: Nobody ever said life on the Silk Road was going to be smooth
Camel: I need a vacation.
Tempting Skirt: What do you have in mind?
Camel: How’d she get here?
Bartender: It’s a public establishment.
Tempting Skirt: We have some lovely options this week.
Camel: Tell me more.
Tempting Skirt: Duet In Melancholy Distance is a popular destination.
Camel: I’d like something sunnier.
Tempting Skirt: Bigger Limbo might be up your alley.
Camel: Sounds expensive.
Tempting Skirt: But worth every penny. How about Wander Off In Fog?
Bartender: That sounds like fun.
Camel: I need a drink.
Bartender: What’ll it be?
Camel: Hemlock. Straight up.

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By Russell Streur

Censor: All rise.  Court is in session.  Who’s first?

Bailiff: This one, under alias of Terpsichore.
Censor: What are the charges?

Bailiff: Count One.  Dancing in air.

Terpsichore: Best performed as a couple’s step.

Bailiff: Count Two.  Dancing on water.

Terpsichore: Room temperature, please.

Bailiff: Count Three.  Dancing with fire.

Censor: Isn’t that supposed to be, Playing with fire.

Bailiff: The particulars quite plainly state, Dancing with fire.

Terpsichore: A careen, said to be of Persian origin.

Censor: Dancing it is then.  What else?

Bailiff: Count Four.  Dancing on earth.

Censor: A most serious charge.  Who accuses?

Fat Mind: I accuse.  She’s thin as a rail and needs some meat on her bones.

Censor: The accused may see the menu.

Terpsichore: I’m not hungry.

Censor: An admission.  Guilty as charged.

Terpsichore: I refuse to swallow such injustice.

Censor: We have ways of making you eat.

Chorus of the Fat:

Secret seasonings.
Secret recipes.
Secret ingredients.
Secret formulas.

Fat Mind: Open wide.

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