New Web Sites to Look For by Will Berry Thought you had seen it all on the Internet? Oh, no. More new web sites are coming in at fool's speed, and Internet Inernational wants you to be aware of the exciting sites that can waste your entire day: "Egyptology.com" -- the perfect site for seniors who really believe that they can take it with them because they know that the kids will only waste their inheritance anyway. This site advises you on the secrets of Tutankhamen and the spirit world beyond, which actually may contain an S & L or two. Inquire about their deal on gold caskets. "Elivssightings.com" -- actual interviews with people who claim to have seen Elvis just as their parents had seen Rudolph Valentino in 1958. The site has direct links with Alienabductions.com and AmeliaEarhartisalive.com. "Beaniebabiesnursery.com" -- missed out on the Beanie Baby revolution, did you? Well, two sweet old ladies from South Park, Colorado, have amassed a treasure trove of those adorable little creatures and have they got a deal for you. (Beware of the ones that speak Chinese.) The two ladies, Effie and Edna, have a link with Knockoffs.com, and can get you anything from Bess Truman's Wedding Guest Book to Wrong Way Corrigan's flight plan. "DullardsRus.com" -- have trouble making change for a dollar? Do you tape the Weather Channel? Like to talk about your collection of Mitch Miller records? Then this site is for you. You will receive tips on the art of telling twenty-minute jokes but forgetting the punchline. A computer dating service is available. Member, Good Old Boys International. "Historylies.com" -- a group of disassociate professors have put together a fascinating disarray of claims about people and history. An example: Columbus did not discover America, he actually went East towards India looking for the mythical kingdom of Indianapolis. America was really located by someone named Carmine who had to get someplace quickly that didn't have an extradition agreement with Imperial Spain. And have they got the goods on "Shorty" Napoleon and Josephine, plus a peek behind the secret door of Calvin Coolidge. "Dotcom.com" -- a lady in Minneapolis is suing the entire Internet because she claims that they are using her name, Dorothy Comine, without her permission. "Ever since I was a little kid, people have always called me 'Dot Com,'" claims Dorothy. She is being represented by the law firm of Dewey, Cheatum, and Howe, who are looking for an out-of-court settlement in the 12 figure range. "I expect to get enough to at least buy St. Paul," she says. © 2003 by Will Berry. All rights reserved. Distribution via hyperlink, e-mail, disk, print, broadcast or any other form is prohibited under U.S. copyright law without express permission of the author. Will is a retired traveling sales rep who made a lot of money for other people. He writes because while all life's questions intrigue him, he is old enough to totally disregard the answers. What else? Well, he's never voted Republican in his life, and he has a Bachelor of Arts in Pastry Science. |
Effie and Edna, have a link with Knockoffs.com, and can get you anything from Bess Truman's Wedding Guest Book to Wrong Way Corrigan's flight plan. |
The Promise by Chris Akins "Dratted I'll show 'em. Tell me I can't OUCH! Son of a.!" The wrench slipped and Grandad smashed his hand against the side of the engine block. He threw down the wrench and jumped up and down, holding his hand. He was having a genuinely lousy day. Everything was going wrong. He had promised Granny this trip years ago and he hadn't heard from his agent for over a month. Now some kid from the government was standing in his garage telling him he couldn't go. "I remember when this was a free planet!" Special Agent Peniwick had been trying to reason with the old man for twenty minutes. "Yes. Well, sir. I am afraid that for your own safe--" "Oh shut up! Spent twenty-two years in the Navy, ten of 'em in space." He picked up the wrench and went back to work on the engine. Several minutes later, he realised the young man had not moved. He looked up from what he was doing and waived the wrench menacingly. "You still here? Better get goin' before I sick Fred on ya!" The old hound lying by the water heater opened one eye and raised his head slightly at the mention of his name. Peniwick sighed. The crazy old man was beyond reason, probably senile. He'd have to return in the morning with the police and confiscate the equipment. "I was instructed to deliver this." Peniwick handed Grandad a thick brown envelope and left. "Good riddins!" Grandad stood up, his joints creaking with the effort. He looked around the garage grumpily. "Where's that dratted manual?" Seeing that the stranger had departed and Granddad's attention seemed to be diverted from him, Fred closed his eye and laid his head back on his paws. "Don't you go getting yourself in trouble with the law!" Granny Pederman stood in the doorway, a worried look on her face. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about that! I promised you we were gonna travel, and that's exactly what we're gonna do." Granny laughed. "You're never gonna finish that blasted thing. Don't know why you're bothering. We should just buy a new camper! We have more money than than anybody." She looked around the garage, pointing at the crates stacked against the back wall. "And what's all of that other stuff in here?! Is that what that law man was here about?" "I said don't worry your pretty little head about that! Just let me be so I can finish." "Hmph! Travelling! Promised me the moon and the stars when we got married, and we've never left this place in thirty years" Granny turned back towards the kitchen. "I'll show her!" Grandad mumbled. He tore open the envelope agent Peniwick left behind and looked inside. A surprised look spread over his face as he removed its contents. "It's about bloody time!" he said with satisfaction as read the cover letter. A handwritten note dropped out of the envelope onto the floor. Grandad picked it up read it. "That sneaky bugger" He set the note down and began thumbing through the remaining contents. His deed had finally arrived. Young fool probably never suspected. Grandpa checked his watch. "Emma, pack your things! We're leaving tomorrow morning. Agent Peniwick sat in the black government sedan across the street from the old man's house, sipping a cup of coffee. The garage door opened and the ancient camper rolled down the drive and turned left onto the street. He checked his watch. Convenient. Moments later the police arrived with the moving crew. He led them to the open garage. The rocket parts were in the crates along the back wall. The crew began loading the crates into the van. An hour later the garage was empty. Too bad, Peniwick thought. He understood wanting to escape this world. As he turned to leave he caught a glimpse of a discarded piece of paper on the floor. It was a handwritten note on MoonCorp letterhead. "What the hell," Peniwick muttered to himself and walked over to the bench. MoonCorp was the company the old man founded with his World Lottery winnings. His eyes grew large with surprise as he read the handwritten note. It's time. The rocket and domicile are finished. Launch is 0823 tomorrow morning Peniwick checked his watch and sprinted to the door just in time to see the rocket plume streaking across the sky. Grandma and Grandad sat in the biodome porch of their domicile, watching the Earth spin beneath them. For the first time in years they were holding hands. "Guess we showed 'em, eh," Grandpa said. Grandma handed him a framed certificate, Property Deed to The Moon, Earth's Orbit. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Well, you did promise me the moon" "Yep. And I've never broke a promise to you, yet." " and the stars." She smiled and snuggled close. Grandpa put his arm around her shoulder. The stars well, maybe Fred curled up at Grandpa's feet, groaned and fell asleep. © 2003 by Chris Akins. All rights reserved. Distribution via hyperlink, e-mail, disk, print, broadcast or any other form is prohibited under U.S. copyright law without express permission of the author. Chris Akins is an American living in England. His "real" job is at Rolls-Royce where he is a professional harasser of people, but he spends his "spare" at his keyboard dreaming up weird works of fiction and not so weird works of non fiction. He is not an American Werewolf, but he is a freaky, tree-hugging Druid type. He can be reached, at your own risk, at christopherakins@hotmail.com. |
Now some kid from the government was standing in his garage telling him he couldn't go. "I remember when this was a free planet!" |
