An airborne pathogen is turning Majsfalt’s schoolchildren into starlings.

We could stop the epidemic by exterminating the flocks, but we can’t shoot or poison our own children!

We have been capturing them with mist nets, imprisoning them in the hockey arena and feeding them on maggots and Malt-o-Meal.

What else are we to do?

_{image CC-BY-NC-SA by magnetisch}

Nalchik was a good place to recover. I spent several hours each afternoon in the hot springs with my nose above water and my hair freezing into icicles. The pool girls brought me tea. Every few minutes a bubble of carbon dioxide, sulfur dioxide or nitrous oxide farted up to the surface. I made no attempt to pursue the nitrous bubbles because I was there for healing, right? Healing.

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Who would have guessed that I could make a living selling Panasonic R-70 “Panapet” transistor radios to the natives of Santo André, the smallest island in the Azores? The island’s population (excluding me) was descended from a stone soup of the original African slaves (mainly Ewe and Fon), their Portuguese overseers and a batch of mutinous Scots tossed into the sea and (legend has it) rescued by turtles. In the three-way genetic wrestling match that resulted, the Portuguese lost outright and the Africans and Scots fought to a draw in which their descendants ended up with dark skin and nappy red hair. They subsisted on fish, taro roots and hot sauce and couldn’t be bothered to emigrate.

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1. Add contents of Packet 1 to fire.
2. After 24 hours, add contents of Packet 2.
3. You should see Live Fire-Monkeys within 24 hours. Fire-Monkeys need food! Feed Fire-Monkeys one yellow spoonful from Packet 3 every five days. Enjoy your Fire-Monkeys!

_{Image CC-BY-NC-ND by Edson Martins}

My great-uncle Milton was one of the last living residents of Freeport, Kansas. He had made a fortune selling bibles to bible-salesmen, and he kept it all in cash in a bunker under his barn.

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I fell asleep in bed last night with a wet cigarette in my hand. By the time the water alarm went off and woke me the room was already knee-deep and full of choking spray. I could hear the curtains begin to sluice. I crawled to the door and felt it with my palm but it was already deadly cool. I picked up a chair and threw it against the window but it bounced back, hit me across the shins and knocked me into the rising tide. I heard shouting from outside. An ax blade crashed through the sill and a gloved hand reached into the room. I grasped at it with the last of my strength. The waterfighter pulled me through the hole and carried me down the ladder. Then the rest of the squad let loose with fire from the hydrant and slowly, painfully extinguished the water. My house is now a steaming ruin.

_{image CC-BY-NC-SA by azrasta}