"But one day, when she'd carried two buckets of holes home from the hole well, she spilled the holes on the floor, revealing a dark cellar."
"This character of yours... it's a floating talking pie?" "To be precise, she is a female pie."
"...Wait! If I can just repeatedly shoot that steel windchime and make it play Mother's lullaby, she'll know it's really me!"
"Lass of lies!" he bellowed. "Belle of betrayal!"
A deal was cut. The cheeky stray dog stole the pie from the windowsill and the lovable rascal stole the string of sausages from the butcher.
"Aha!" she howled after swallowing the key. "Now I'm the last person you'll ever kill!" Her skin grew cold and rocky. More water poured in.
The biggest pain of using the "chained hook sling" was having to stuff 20 feet of chain back into the fist-sized canister every single time.
His power was to temporarily suspend Newton's Third Law, but the most he could think of was punching people without hurting his fist.
She escaped the seventh day's curse because she stepped into the time-stasis machine on Saturday, and set it to switch off on Monday!
But alas, he was a moment too slow, and he fell deep into sleep as he stood before his bed.
"Y'all thought I forgot! Y'all thought the Nanoconversion had changed everything! But Good Ol' Abigail Lincoln NEVER forgets a gun duel!"
"Why don't they make the dog robot as smart as the human robot? I mean, do they want it to make the same tactical blunders as a real dog?"
She'd do anything to save these final specimens. And if that meant performing the world's first butterfly blood transfusion, then so be it.
"Slanted Bowling. First you bowl the ball up the ramp in front of you, then step aside as it rolls down and hits the pins behind you."
"We got the rent on this place down to $50 a week by convincing him to keep all of the other rooms bolted shut until we leave."
There goes the Hang-Gliding Family now. Ma and pa in the big heart-shaped glider, and their little ones gliding behind, linked by a rope.
Tarot coin reading time! "HEADS: be optimistic, aggressive, and keep your eyes and ears open as you confront personal challenges."
"Look at me! You will look at my eyes as if they were your mother's because I've just pushed you out of the choking womb of civilian life!"
"Our nation's renewable luck resources, sir, consist only of genetically modified four-leafed clover crops."
This is a world where good luck is real, and the nations' scientists search the globe for sources of luck that have not yet been drained.
This civilisation's people instantly grasp the full ramifications of any fact presented. Their essays and proofs are just lists of facts.
Several more stars file out between the invisible folds. Backstage, the Milky Way is slowly winched into position. Time to start the show.
Then, the second star emerges. Is it of the venerable Orion or Crux families? Is it a nameless lone performer? By itself, nobody can tell.
The first star peeks out behind the black curtain. It can't help but blush when it feels the gaze of millions.
"Now, I know you don't want to think of me as your parent, Matty, but I hope you'll learn to think of me... as your CAREnt."
Kickoff Boots: anything kicked by these boots will be launched at least half a mile. Used by some as a less dignified alternative to flight.
Decaying Seven-League Boots: each stride made with these boots is half the length of the previous. They soon become entirely immobile.
Soleless Shoes: when you place your foot into one, it magically comes out the top of the other. You must insert both feet simultaneously!
Shoes of Heroic Retreat: these artifacts let you swiftly run backwards, but prevent you from moving forward.
Sylph Shoes: these artifacts grant the ability to jump once in midair, but remove one's ability to jump while on solid ground.
"The Retnirp, you see, is so much better than a shredder. Pages go in, clean sheets zip out, and ink goes back in your printer cartridges!"
"Oh, yeah," he said, "you've used up all of this pencil's correct answers. It'll only write wrong ones from now on." Then: "Wanna buy mine?"
She knew exactly how his blood would spill, and had carefully placed buckets to catch every drop.
My wall clock wants me to write a message about it. I know because every time I glance around for inspiration, there it is front and center.
"Well, I just stopped time and had a reasoned chat with that bullet you shot at me. We reached a gentleman's agreement, and away it went."
Am I really awake now? Or was my dream in fact reality, and am I now asleep and missing a critical exam even as I am typing this?!
It was dangerous work, grave-robbing in a giants' graveyard, but human museums were paying vast sums for bigger and bigger giants' skulls.
With a steady hand, he poured the Lethe riverwater over the bomb's circuit board. Its countdown display flickered, and instantly went dark.
Her human husband inherited her land, her leprechaun husband her gold, her vampire husband her blood and her brainslug husband her memories.
"Every sight in this world offends me," he said, tugging at his upper eyebrow. "I glance at the sky, and am accosted by an alien blue hue!"
"It's called a USB flash drive. I suppose you must feel uneasy about a piece of technology whose name consists mostly of verbs."
He became increasingly convinced that his dog interpreted "good boy" not as an expression of love, but as a mere command to feign happiness.
"Don't ever let bonsai trees escape into the wild," said the woodsman as they trudged through the waist-deep forest, "or this'll happen."