The cat hissed at the vacuum cleaner, fur bristling like a dandelion in a hurricane. It pounced, claws extended, only to be met with a roar of industrial fury. The vacuum whirred menacingly, its hose twitching like a snake’s tail.…
Gerald taped a neon orange ‘WET PAINT’ sign to his garage door, then immediately knocked over a bucket of glue. The stuff oozed like melted crayon across his collection of half-finished DIY disaster pieces: a wind chime made of old…
The jar sat there, unyielding, its lid a circular taunt. I’d tried the rubber grip, the hot water soak, even whispering sweet nothings to it like it was a pouty ex. Nothing. So I grabbed a spoon, leveraged it like…
Gary stared at his car, its engine emitting a noise resembling a disgruntled goat. ‘I am calm,’ he whispered, patting the hood. ‘I am calm.’ The goat noise intensified. ‘I am capable,’ Gary said, flexing imaginary biceps. The car sputtered.…
Kevin stared at his phone, thumb scrolling like a maniac. The TikTok trend of the summer was clear: *The Cactus Wobble*. A dance so simple, even his grandma’s cat could do it. But Kevin? He’d spent three hours in his…
Mr. Whiskers, a cat with a fur coat of midnight and eyes like smoldering coals, lounged on the windowsill, plotting world domination. His masterpiece? A feather duster he’d stolen from the closet, now glinting in the sunlight like a holy…
Burt welded a bicycle wheel to a traffic cone in his garage, humming the *Mission: Impossible* theme. Linda, his neighbor, peered through the window, squinting at the contraption. ‘You’re turning my yard into a junkyard,’ she said, dodging a rogue…
A squirrel stood on a park bench, clutching a acorn like it was a diamond. It screeched at a passing pigeon, ‘I’m not scared of you!’, then attempted to crack the acorn with its teeth. After ten minutes of futile…
Karen muttered, “I am capable,” while wrenching at the dripping kitchen faucet. The leak taunted her, a steady *drip-drip* echoing her doubt. She squared her shoulders. “I am powerful!” The water surged, spraying her face like a disgruntled geyser. She…
Jordan stood in front of their bedroom mirror, muttering, “This isn’t a phase. This is a *movement.*” Their phone buzzed—a notification from @TikTokTop10: “New trend: #DanceOfTheDecade. Do it or die.” They tried the dance, which involved hopping on one foot…