Throwback Thursday: Mr Brill's First Victim

She'd outspent all her friends on her new frock
And coat, and smart and flatt'ring new cloche hat,
But Miss Lucinda really sought to shock
More than to incite envy. She knew that
Some suffragettes had some odd stunt well-planned
For Easter Sunday, in the great parade,
But it took her some effort, and some bland,
Insipid ev'nings learning those they'd made.
In secret she stole Winky's half-smoked pack
To practice. On Good Friday, she did light
Her first, her only; blowing from out back
A cross breeze caught her flame, and soon her slight
And boyish frame and new duds were afire.
Her Torch of Freedom, no one would admire.

Weird Wednesday: Not in Wonderland, Part XVI

"The higher, then the fewer, do you see?"
A man in tattered coveralls did say
As Alice rushed to warn the party. "Hee!"
A sort of dusty rat said. "Come to play?"
The man, whose name tag said to call him Gas
Said eagerly as he sat on a drum
With biohazard markings. "That's the lass!"
A jackelope chimed in, "Dumm said she'd come.
We're to be nice; she helped him stash the bod!"
"What do you mean?" "Shut up, she doesn't know
That he fed her his brother." "Oh my cod,
I smell him on her breath! She has to go."
"Don't be so rude. She's famous and she's free
On this pathetic plane's reality!"

Terror Tuesday: A Perfect Likeness

To sit to Hughain Mast was quite the coup,
So Lubay chose an outfit with more care
Than most would take o'er foodstuffs. "Show 'em through!"
Lu cried on learning Mast was waiting there.
Lu struck a pose and Mast began to paint.
The portraitist's stare was unnerving, yet
The prestige it conveyed! When Lu went faint
'Twas chalked up to excitement. "Did you get
My best side?" "Oh, indeed." That eerie grin!
Weeks passed. Each day Lu felt a bit less well,
While Mast's strange medium grew thick as sin.
Unveiling day, Lu stayed in bed a spell
While all admired Mast's lifelike masterpiece.
Lu's bones, meanwhile, had crumbled 'neath the fleece.

Mystery Monday: Conviction

Some perp walk photos showed up on the web,
And then Mariah showed up late to work
With ink-strained fingertips. When nosy Deb
Asked if she could be helpful, just a smirk
Was her reply. What had this woman done?
This sweet, enthusiastic employee,
Who'd always taken bullying (good fun,
They'd always claimed, but sometimes things could be
A little cruel), what mischief had she wrought?
The internet, the TV news, all kept
The secret. At what misdeed was she caught?
The office rumors went wild, 'til she wept
And went home early. Later, she resigned,
Not telling she'd been witness to a crime.

Satire Sunday: Too Late

The leak that mattered, by which, understand,
Is meant the leak exposing his mistakes,
At last had happened. Ronald owned no land,
No assets tangible or other. Lakes
Of debt, forged paper, empty safes, all these
Were what he had. The world thought otherwise,
Of course. His friends, to bully and to tease
Had propped him up, averting all their eyes
From signs that pointed to his lies. But now
His pauper-hood had earned him a new name:
They called him Set. But he still had them. Wow!
He should retreat, perhaps, into his shame,
But he had two more years left in his term.
Those voters, they still had a lot to learn.

Sci Fi Saturday: The Artifact

The airlock wasn't broken; all was well
Except the man who'd passed through it, who'd fooled
Evaluations by the score. We fell
For all his lies - and yet he broke no rule
While breaking space-walk records. It was known
He was a little odd, but no one guessed
When he stayed late again and have a groan
Of happiness, that he had passed his test.
He'd outsmarted the safeguards back on Earth
But kept his secret until now, when he
Undid the locks and clasps and cables. Mirth
Soon froze upon his naked face as, free
Except from physics, he became space junk
Like any other. All your theory's bunk.

Fantasy Friday: Opening Remarks

Your honor, I object to this whole line
Of questioning. It's in the poorest taste,
It's leading and it's speculative. Fine,
His flying horse did bolt, and in her haste
She spattered counsel's roof, but does that mean
My client killed the plaintiff's beast? Oh, no.
I've witnesses who place him on the green,
Engaged in commerce. Furthermore, I'll show
That there's a better suspect: Hortense Blue,
Whose phobia of gryphons has become
A by-word. I submit it was she who
Left Aerohip's stall open. Do not shun
This testimony: distractions like that ease
All kinds of malefactions, if you please.