Commercial Break.

"Is his tire flat?"

"It is."

"We should tell him his tire's flat."

"I don't know."

"We have every right to be as concerned about his safety as any other driver in the road."

"That we do."

"And he's right in front of us."

"The man knows his road etiquette."

"We could even get his attention right now."

"I'm still not sure, guys."

"Why not?"

"What's wrong? Do we need to put on a tie? I have one right here, and --"

"No, no. No tie. I just -- think it'd be better if we didn't try and draw attention such subtle attention to ourselves."

"You mean, we should leap on his bike?"

"Well, yes."

"Why, that's easy!"

Honk, Honk.

"There has to be an easier way to get to work. L-left! Left, I said! LEFT!"

Bell-Hung Flakes.

Jerry flung a pebble into the wind. He crunched small lines of snow that clutched to the palm of his gloves, and waggled a far-away face. Perhaps he should build an igloo out of Ezra Pound.

Forty-Seven Rounds, And Still No Victor!

"YOU WILL FALL AND SUFFER MY WRATH!"

"AS IF MY MIGHTY PAWS WOULD SHRINK IN THE FACE OF THEE."

"LAUGH WHILE YOU CAN, SCUM, FOR THESE WORDS MARK YOUR FINAL MOMENTS ON EARTH."

"LIKE YOUR PUERILE, EGOTISTIC REMARKS ARE ANY DETERRENT BETWEEN MY CLAWS AND YOUR FACE."

"I HAVE MADE CITIES TREMBLE!"

Link.

Elephants Are Not A Swizzle Stick

Not quite a hospital corridor, nor the bull's eye at the end of a train's tunnel, John Kindhundt made his way through an Irish jig. Pleased with an empty audience, he slipped into Bach, and added the occassional flourish from "Smoke on the Water." He played faster, stomped his feet.

John took a moment to glance toward the end of the hall, and his gaze happened upon a giant eyeball, which royally stood and examined his behavior. Having stopped playing, the man and the eyeball stared at each other for a long stretch of time, even for crickets, who are good at keeping track of this sort of thing.

"Look," said John. "I find it awfully hard to talk to an eyeball. Don't you have an ear or something equally receptive on you?"

Loud scrapes turned John's attention to the opposite end of the hall, where he gasped in fright as another eyeball squeezed its way into the tunnel. Dust crumbled from the ceiling. What was thought to be the rumbling of the train -- there had been a yes yes get me out of here yes -- of hope was a third eye, whose pupil shakily buzzed around its white as it sealed the final exit.

Quietly, John began to play "Allegro."

Link.