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Dumpy Little PrincessTHE DUMPY LITTLE PRINCESS
Jay Ward and Bill Scott pastiche by Doug Holverson
PAGE#1, PANEL#1: (Title card.)
Title Truncated Tall Tales
The Dumpy Little Princess
PANEL#2: (The Dumpy Little Princess doing a little courtesy.)
Caption Once upon a time there was a princess.
PANEL#3: (The Dumpy Little Princess with her arms akimbo looking annoyed.)
Caption No ordinary princess she, for she was a Dumpy Little Princess.
Dumpy Little Princess Hey, narrator-boy! You ain't no Cary Grant yourself!
PANEL#4: (A sad Dumpy Little Princess pulls her patched pockets inside out as a moth or two escapes.)
Caption Fate was even harsher on our princess, for she was born into the crumby end of the upper crust.
PANEL#5: (A clique of mean royal teens is brushing off the Dumpy Little Princess.)
Royal Kid You lack the bread to loaf with us.
PANEL #6: (A clique of mean peasant teens is brushing off the Dumpy Little Princess.)
Caption Nor was she warm and toasty with the crusty end of the crumby class.
John HenryJohn Henry
Jay Ward pastiche/update
By Doug Holverson
PAGE#1, PANEL#1: (Title panel, all caption in scrolly mock decorative type.)
Truncated Tall Tales:
"John Henry Gets Spiked"
"The Hammer & Fickle"
PANEL#2: (John Henry shows up for work in front of the building for the H&O Railroad. Standing there is Shorty, a diminutive white trashy fellow with an engineer's cap and overalls and a straw dangling from under his bushy mustache).
Shorty How's things, John Henry?
John Henry I'm rarin' to beat my personal best rail spike poundin' record!
PANEL#3: (John is taken aback by bad news from Shorty.)
Shorty Ya cain't, all ya steel drivin' men have done been laid off 'n' replaced by a gismo called the Inky Poo!
PANEL#4: (John strikes an assertive pose while Shorty just stands there.)
John This can't be! I'll going to the complaint department!
Shorty Ya cain't! They's been replaced by voice mail…
PANEL#5: (John strikes an assertive pose while Shorty just stands there.)
John Then, I'm seei
IronmanHear me read it
My friends used to call William "Ironman" because the first time we kissed he got a nosebleed and the taste of his blood haunted me for a long time after it. We'd only been twelve years old and apparently the anxiety spiked his blood pressure to the point of combustion... I remember that when we were forced to take sex ed a few years later we were divided into separate classes for boys and girls, in case a diagram of an ovary was too risqué and we became animalistic and started clawing at each other in our seats, but nonetheless when our teacher Ms Jacobs had explained to us what an erection was in my mind all I could picture was the blood rushing to his nose and then the slash of cranberry across my blouse.
With the idea planted in his mind it didn't take long for William's hands to start wandering, but the image persisted. Every time I thought about just letting it happen I wondered what would happen if he got too excite
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