Bruce, who was disconsolate as he watched the flames licking at his beloved forest, winced when he saw the flashes of light and heard the soft, furry detonations of the Koala bears, soaked inside and out with the volatile eucalyptus oil that gave them life, and then, alas, sealed their fiery fate, but thank God Sheila was there to remind him, "Life's a bitch, mate, and then you explode!"
by Gale Myers, Honolulu, Hawaii
"Because so many readers write in when we do, we will never end a sentence with a preposition in this paper!" expostulated Senior Editor Percy Whyte, causing cub reporter Willy Watson to ruminate ponderingly, "Well, of course I would never use a preposition to finish a sentence up with, because it might be difficult to make sense out of, and, after all, what would I want to use a preposition to finish a sentence that you cannot make any sense out of up with for?"
by Robert Lodge, Seattle, Washington
The tent smelled like death—a smell that Detective Joe Luger knew well but never seemed to get used to—and the sight of another clown shot right through the nose almost made him sick, but there was a job to do, after all, so he composed himself and said to his partner, "Wow, those are really big feet!"
by Dennis McGrath, Seattle, Hazlet, N.J.
It was at moments like this, with the snow drifting gently past the window on a crisp winter night as he sat in front of the crackling fire holding her hand and and gazing into her eyes, that he often wondered what had become of the rest of her.
by Peter Tilley, Seattle, Englewood, Colo.