Keep the bad think thinking…
Some big bad NBA ideas…
• Make the ball square, see how the players respond
• Make the court a circle, same
• Give every team 15 extra timeouts and see if they use em, just cause they have em
• Between quarters, all players must eat a five pound cheeseburger… they cannot re-enter the game until they’ve finished
• James Dolan is given control over every team that is not the Knicks, Lakers, or Celtics
• One team gets to have seven players
• The players must wear full length pants
Not tonight, but tomorrow… LeBron James will win his fourth NBA title with his third team… weird.
They pulled into Port Pickle.
“Is this where they make pickles?”
– The End
“It doesn’t have to end badly.”
“How else could it end?”
“We could just go our separate ways, just agree to never see each other again.”
“That won’t work.”
They can see you…
Don’t look at them…
I said, don’t look.
Sometimes a goose is a goose… but sometimes a goose is a swan and you just thought you saw a goose.
It’s OK, on those occasions, to say, ‘Hey, I thought I saw a goose, but it turns out it was just a swan.”
There’s no harm in that…
The door to the apartment was open.
The television was playing something… I can’t remember what.
Bernie was covered in stickers.
Little bumble bee stickers.
It was weird.
“You can’t take pictures here sir.”
“It’s not OK. You can’t take pictures here, sir.”
The man looked at the monk.
He took the picture.
He instantly died.
The monk put his body on the pile.
The lady in the plaid skirt took her phone out of her tiny purse.
“Excuse me miss, you can’t take pictures here.”
He found the child where he thought she’d be.
“Hello.” she said.
“You have to stop.”
She smiled, let out a puff.
“They can’t breath. They’re not made for this.”
“They’re fine. I’m taking care of them. All of them.”
She couldn’t have been older then eleven. She was wearing a boys suit and shiny pink tap shoes.
“They’ll die. They can’t do this. It’s not them.”
“They’re safer then they’ve ever been… ever. They’re one now.”
“They can’t be them and be one.”
She smiled again. Stood.
“You need to go.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“I won’t let them go back to the way it was… the mess, the sick, the chaos. It was terrible. They hated it. They’re happy now.”
“This is fake, this is wrong. This cannot last.”
“They finally speak as one. They act as one.”
“At your behest.”
“If not me, then no one.”
“Better no one.”
She laughed. It was a cruel laugh. Wrong for a child.