The VVVSS has been in existence for a few years right now, and I have been in control for the second 100 stories. Following the dictates of the VVVSS it is time to turn the helm over to another editor. If you are interested in being the sole person responsible for posting stories to the VVVSS and gathering the next 100 stories, please send us an email!
Yes! It is true! The book is almost here! We have completed our second run of 100 stories and now we are busily editing all of the stories into the newest and most exciting book. The title is “Zombies, Monsters, UFOs, and Surviving Yet Another Apocalypse: 100 Pieces of Impossibilia.” It will be available soon on Amazon and CreateSpace. More info and images when the book is available.
“But Doc, I’m embarrased!” said Jesus.
“That’s okay son, they’re all idiots anyway.”
Jesus smiled and replied: “I’m having a book written about that.”
He took two steps and leaped the high gate surrounding the Silver HIlls community. His claws clicked on the smooth asphalt and his long tongue licked the anticipatory slobber from his fangs. The wall was meant to keep trouble out, but tonight it will trap the victims in…
“Legally, sir, you are obligated to shoot her if she enters the building,” the secretary said.
“But she’s bringing my lunch!” he screamed.
“The car’s on fire!!” screamed Jesus.
“It’s okay Son, You didn’t need that piece of shit anyway!”
Peter ran his fingers through his sticky hair. Stumbling to the door, his foot still half out of his shoe, an hour late for work, he glimpsed his image in the hall mirror. His pale face, cadaverous, his hair matted with dark syrupy goo, he was filled with an electric shock of realization. In the mirror he could see a forensics team hunched over his bloodied corpse. He whipped around to look back into the living room and saw only the dust covered bookshelves, the empty crumpled beer cans, and the television with its rolling screen of static.
“Hey, everybody needs a second chance.”
He crossed his arms, his grey eyes slitted, angry. “Really.”
“Yeah. Like cheese.”
For the briefest of interludes, his lips parted, then clamped down.
“I’m not going to ask.”
I told him anyway, “Cheese is merely the second chance for milk that
won’t get drunk.” Leaning forward, I shrugged my shoulders, bringing
my hands up to spread them as much as the cuffs allowed. “And cheese
is delicious. A delicious second chance.”
Thomas lowered his gun as Calvin set the bottle on the table and pushed it away.
“Fine, you freak!” Calvin said. “If it means that much to you, I won’t put ketchup on my eggs!”
“Blasphemy,” Thomas snarled through gritted teeth.
Just moments before she had been dozing quietly on a paisley picnic blanket spread out on the ground amidst the tall grass, lulled into a nap by the warmth of the spring sun. She remembered feeling drowsy, and then nothing. She was suddenly jerked awake from her delicious nap by an unexpected noise, something out of place in the jungle of the grass.
She lay listening intently for the sound to be repeated so she could get a bead on its location and perhaps discover the source. An uneasy feeling invaded her mind and the skin on her arms raised in goose bumps. She almost imagined she could hear something alive, breathing, just out of sight in the surrounding vegetation. Suddenly, something large raced out of the grass directly at her and a scream died in her throat.