Stories | Page 5 | Points in Case

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Spying her water bottle, he transformed it into a La Croix. Kim took a sip, swished a little, and frowned. “I only like Pampelmousse"

He was there all hours of the day, rain or shine, lost in the peace of his mellow being. He returned none of our casual hellos and friendly waves.

Then right on cue, the whole complex became a mashup of Duck Soup: Mrs. Tyndale burst out of her door singing what sounded like some sort of aria.

I only had one thing a female jail junkie would want: A bobby pin. Tiffany’s eyes widened with excitement and offered food.

Our love blossomed with the speed of a carefully edited, 30-second commercial for prescription diarrhea medicine.

Things got worse after I said my favorite R.E.M. song was “Shiny Happy People.” He got so angry that I thought his slim body was going to overheat.

I hadn’t worked a case in a month and was hitting the sauce hard. It’s a gloopy brown sauce from a can of beef chunks--part of yesterday’s breakfast.

I admit, I'd never met a non-Who before, and at the time I was a little nervous to have him in my inn. I locked the door to my room that night.

I hope I don't have to use the revolver, but this is Costco—godless territory where wild men purchase two-gallon tins of popcorn on any given day.

After beating that mutant horde, do you remember how we just couldn't go any further and decided to picnic atop the fallen corpses of our enemies?

“You see what you did?” Cap’n Crunch said, frowning at Tony, “You just had to roar. Whatever happened to civility in this country?”

Suddenly, I recall a woman—lovely, virile—a gal very active for her age. Did we meet in a bookstore? Or was it an antique shop?