The path zigged and zagged but led home.
Author: John Rhea
Zombhard run last news paper of apocalypse
“What’s up, doc?” “Blood pressure, cholesterol, and weight.”
The headless horseman ran around like a chicken.
He tripped on stage and broke a leg.
“Dollars to donuts—” “Delicious alchemy. Dollars into donuts.”
“You’re not making sense.” “No, I’m making dollars.”
“I fell in love with sum won pelts.”
Chocolate and flowers work wonders in camp fires.
After the apocalypse, the webmaster learned her value.
“I can’t work with that jerk!” “He agrees.”
“He’s a jerk.” “He’s your son after all.”
“Zombies are moaning liars.” “But he loves me!”
The monkey understood her, but not her husband.
He bullied the cow till the buffalo arrived.
“Happy Birthday, to the jerk who’s never there.”
“Loving you is hard, but I’ll keep trying.”
The dinosaur took off his jetpack. “Sorry, Officer.”
The cardboard hallway led toward adventure (and sandwiches).
“Well… to me… sconces and scones taste different.”
The alien infected the computer with endless information.