Croc

The crocodile rolled, the smell of blood and fear hung heavily in the water.

He felt the tug as his leg ripped from his body. He stared up at the surface for an eternity.

Another bite. The remaining leg. Tumble, rip, spin.

The crocodile knew letting humans evolve this far had been a mistake.

~

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Aqua

“What’s that Aqua?” asked Girl.

“New joke,” replied Aqua.

“Oh god,” whimpered Girl.

“It’s got a punchline about chemistry,” said Aqua.

“May I hear it?” asked Girl, for reasons unknown.

“Nah,” said Aqua, “it won’t get a reaction.”

~

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Origami

“Well he was a bit odd,” said Fuen.

“In what way?” asked Yuffie.

“When I said I was in the mood for chicken, he gave me an origami bird made from paper,” sighed Fuen.

“Ah,” replied Yuffie. “Well, Red once gave me a statue made entirely of gaffer tape.”

“Blimey!” said Fuen.

“I didn’t like it at first,” said Yuffie, “but then I got attached to it…”

~

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Feet

She’d always known he was pretty kinky. He bought her a new pair of shoes every date they went on. He griped if she wore socks, smalls or tights.

“Well I do like them,” he said licking the soles of her feet. “They taste good and look like porcelain.”

She squirmed. He smirked.

She knew what was coming next. She’d seen the hacksaw in the top drawer.

~

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Tablet

“Missus kicked you out again?” asked Cloud.

“Yeah,” said Pterodactyl. “I asked to borrow the newspaper from her. ‘Don’t bother with a paper’ she said, ‘I have a new 12-inch tablet!'”

“Oh, they are good!” said Cloud.

“Yep,” replied Pterodactyl. “Feckin’ fly didn’t know what hit it…”

~

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Helium

“Well there’s no point throwing a strop,” said Serpent.

“Grr,” grumbled Red, spitting out a tyre.

“What’s happened now?” asked Fuen.

“Red just lost his job at the helium balloon factory after an argument with his boss,” sighed Serpent.

“I won’t be spoken to in that tone of voice!” growled Red.

~

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Blink

Malcolm blinked into the blue light.

“Help me,” came a voice from behind.

Malcolm span around. Peering through the water, he saw a woman. Her skin bloated and rotten. Her hair floating sideways in the current.

“Help me,” she pleaded. He watched as she stood pulling rocks out of her pockets. They kept coming. Never ending, rock after rock.

“Please help me,” she begged again. He would have tried if the hands clutching his ankles had let go.

~

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