“You dragged me here against my will and tried tricking me into eating broccoli so I’ll be stuck here forever?” I asked. “Who is going to be seduced by vegetables?”
Hades dropped the broccoli onto the gritty cavern floor. “Your beauty bewitches me and dulls my senses.”
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I’m Frank Pepitone, from the Superhero Accountability Department. SAD is a subdepartment of the Preternatural Hero Force. If you find out you have superpowers one day, don’t hesitate to keep it to yourself.
The world needs more superhumans who mind their own business.
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The best way to stop a museum heist is to get stolen yourself.
In the darkness of the shipping crate, I wait amid packing peanuts and the four-by-six oaken-framed masterpiece that da Vinci painted with his left hand while using his right for a certain other work.
A shaft of light pierces the gloom as a crowbar pries off one of the top slats,
Lenny couldn’t help being the wisest man on Earth. Just as the rest of humanity couldn’t help being deeply and tragically ignorant.
He tapped his fingers against his carefully constructed booth as he sat by the vacant road outside his house.
You’d think the walking public
“We want to purchase explosives for our children.”
Most people, including most fireworks dealers, would wince at that phrasing. Not Louie Blanchard. For one thing, he knew the Pairish extraterrestrials’ translator devices sometimes missed certain subtleties in the English language. For another,
I clung to the yardarm as wind whipped across the deck of Brume de Mer, spraying ocean mist into the captain’s face.
“With a stiff wind and a swift current, we’ll be in the West Indies in no time, lads. Where rum and our profits await!”
Martha scanned the pews as she entered the sanctuary, one hand slipping almost unconsciously into her bag. Her fingers brushed the spines of two books, one as thick as her fist and one as thin as a pencil. The thick one was, of course, her Bible.
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Something skittered under Avery’s bed.
Not again.
He opened his eyes. The bedroom door was cracked open, sending a thin line of hallway light over the bed. Across the room, the clock on Avery’s dresser showed 9:47 p.m. Its digital face illuminated the Captain America
I have nobody to blame but myself for bringing home that blasted opossum.
Last week, I gazed down at it, sprawled wounded and unmoving in a cratered building.
My conscience wouldn’t let me leave it.
So I brought it home.
Playing nursemen for the criminal cyborg started
“Whoa, whoa, slow down!” Siobhan tried to calm the hysterical little girl who’d introduced herself as Kate before dissolving into tears. “What happened to your kitten?”
“A sock gremlin took her!” Kate wailed, covering her tear-streaked face with her hands. “I’ll never see her again!”
When the doctor said I needed an emotional support animal, I expected to be assigned a typical house pet. A dog, maybe. A cat if I was feeling ambitious. I was okay with something that shed, but not something that could be detected by satellite.
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There was no point in thawing bagels when the twenty-foot-long alligator you were babysitting preferred them frozen.
“Make sure Wallace eats one before the moon is out,” Frank had said before leaving for work. “Whenever it’s a full moon, he gets very hungry.”
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