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"The problem, my queen, is that your armor is *too* good."

"Too good? *How* can it possibly be "too good"?

"It's completely impenetrable. Yes, you are safe from sword and bow alike. Nothing can get to you. Not, hope, nor love, and I fear, not even reason."

"You're jealous, aren't you? You want my armor for yourself, don't you?! Get her out of my sight! I'll decide what to do with her later…"

And thus the mad queen put away her one, true friend, and neither would see light again.

"My Condolences!"

"Say again?"


"Oh, no, I haven't seen them recently. Didn't you give them to a friend who was going through a bad time?"

"Yes, but she gave them back! I have been looking *everywhere* and I CAN'T FIND THEM!"

"Look, it's okay - here, you can have mine, I'm sure yours will turn up soon."

"…Thank you."

"Now, can anyone tell me the meaning of the traffic lights? Lets start with red."

"It means stop!"

"Very good. Yellow?"

"Caution, red is coming."

"Yes, green?"


"Excellent. And finally blue?"

"Put your phone down, the light is going to turn green."

"Yes - well done everyone!"

"Well, honestly, I'm attracted to brains."

"Oh- you're one of those, um, sapiosexuals?"

*Laughing* "Oh no, no - not at all. I mean, I find brains themselves very attractive. I'm ready to expand my dating circle, you know, outside of morticians."

"A popular idiom from the 19th and 20th centuries was, 'Just the tip of the iceberg.', which, as you know, was representative of a small amount of an imaginary thing. Icebergs, often portrayed in fictional films of that era, were portrayed as giant mountains of ice floating in the sea. As we all know, ice only exists in space and personal cooler units. Never outside, and certainly NOT in the boiling seas.", at which the class erupted in laughter.

"So, uh, what do you do for a living?"

"Oh – I'm an AI researcher."

"Like… trying to learn new things about AI?"

*laughing gently*, "No, no - you misunderstand. *I* am an Artificial Intelligence and I do research. Dating is among the things I'm researching."


"Ugh, I can't believe this."

"Oh honey, you're in Denial."

"What? No. No way."

*Motions left and right*, "Really hon, _this_ is Denial. I'm your realtor, and I'm helping you find a place to live."


"Don't worry, it happens to everybody the first time."

"Yes I'm aware.", she said with a sigh. "I have signed a waiver, and I have all the other appropriate forms. I just need your seal."
"Very well, " the weary man sighed with resignation, stamping the application with an hourglass, "but I don't think you understand the importance of time."
The woman huffed defiantly, took her application and left.
Father time widened the neck of the woman's hourglass a few millimeters, and placed it back onto the shelf behind him.

Show thread

Holding the paper close, his eyes scanning to and fro, one of the old man's bushy white brows rose higher.
"This…is a highly unusual request.", He said, now looking over at the woman if front of him. "What is the reason for this temporal application?"
Impatiently, she answered, "This whole 'one day at a time' thing isn't working for me. I don't have 30 days, I need to speed things up."
"You are aware of the side effects of time compression, yes? Compressing 48 hours into 24 is no small feat."

"Convicted. Aggravated Menacing. First Degrees misdemeanor. Six months. All I did was design toys. I designed them durable and ecologically viable. No batteries, solar rechargable solid-state battery, efficient and long lasting."

"There are three such toys in my cell. They keep going off, there's no off switch, and so durable, they can't be broken. It's only been a week, and I can't get more than a few minutes nap. I understand now. In have made an abomination."

I saw her, everyday, on the bus. Always carrying a knapsack so heavy she would strain against it every time she got up.

One day, I worked up the nerve to talk to her.

"What's in the knapsack? I see you with it every day, and it looks heavy."

"Oh this? It's my sadness. I haven't been able to let it go for a while, and I'm not sure where to put it."

"Let me help you carry it, share the burden."

And that's how we met.

"Why is she always sad, Grandma?", the small child asked.

"Well, she didn't learn how to let the people she loved in her heart until long after they were all gone. Nowadays, she sits out on her porch and watches the world go by, until she too disappears.", the grandmother replied with an air of sadness.

"That won't happen to you, will it, Grandma?", the question coming out more as a plea.

The grandmother smiled and squeezed the child's hand, "Not at all, I let everyone I love live in my heart."

The slipshod sign above the door read, "Museum of Failures". A smaller brass plate on the side had "Open 24 hours" emblazoned across it.

We met the curator just inside, as she took us from exhibit to exhibit, cataloguing a myriad of "almosts" and "not quite". The silver medals, the "Thank you, but" letters and the wing dedicated missed chances and regrets.

"I hope you enjoy the exhibit.", she said with an unusual smile. "I'm not just the curator, I'm also the sole artist."

"I can see my house from here."
This archaic phrase was popularized and often satirized in ancient media – when folks used to live above ground and were able to travel by air for pleasure. It was meant to convey a sense of extreme height.It seems far-fetched, but life is stranger than fiction.

We're also going to discuss the controversial song, "Baby it's cold outside." - wherein we'll display data that, in fact, it used to get cold outside.

"Okay… that. I want *that*" she said, pointing.
"You want a friendship like theirs?", the djinn asked.
"Yes.", She declared with finality.
"Oh, im sorry, that's not within my power. But it's well within yours. You just need to open up, be vulnerable, not so… *guarded*." the Djinn offered.
"No. I want that… while also being safe.", she urged.
"Ah, but you see, the risk is exactly what makes it work.", the Djinn stated unapologetically.
"Fine!", she said in a huff, "I'll think of something else!"

Oh my God, what a relief. I mean, when I saw your place I thought, "serial killer".

*Laughing* Oh no, no. Not at all. You'll be my first.

And when the elevator doors opened, I pitched him down the shaft.

You did *what*?!

You told me to give him the elevator pitch. Did I misunderstand you again?

You… tossed him down an elevator shaft?



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