I admit it, I’ve been in a weird mood. Maybe not more than usual, but more consistently. For those of you who like my saner stories, they’ll be coming, but this isn’t one of them.
The police asked me about the smoking gun in my hand.
I said it had been smoking since before I met it, but it was trying to quit.
They asked about my red hands.
I said I’d been doing a craft project with disadvantaged youth.
They asked about the head in my freezer.
I said I was running a highly specific cryogenics experiment.
They wished me luck with my experiment and left.
Just as well. If they’d left the freezer door open any longer, it would have ruined everything. Now, I have to go wash the paint off my hands and go pick up some nicotine patches for my gun.