Donate Broth

When it came time for collecting taxes, the tax collector&rsquo;s only instruction from the robots was to collect whatever each human holds most dear. That turned out to be their money, so it wasn&rsquo;t actually any different than taxes in the old days. It was kinda cool seeing the look on their faces after he said they love money more than life, &lsquo;cause that&rsquo;s gotta be pretty tough to hear.
After another long day at work, the tax collector sighed to himself, bored and aimless. He was in a dark place at the time, because he hadn&rsquo;t turned the lights on yet, since he was busy thinking about killing himself. With nothing to do, the tax collector walked outside and started contemplating his life &mdash; he felt like &nbsp;the future wasn&rsquo;t kind to people like him, people who sold out the human race to the robots for a couple hundred dollars, which didn&rsquo;t even matter since human currency has no value in the future. He needed some meaning in his life, some reason to live, and that&rsquo;s when he found it &mdash; her. he most beautiful girl he&rsquo;d ever seen, and when they locked eyes,she told him that life had no meaning. But right behind her was this other girl, the second most beautiful girl he&rsquo;d ever seen, and she seemed pretty cool.&nbsp;
The tax collector looked into her eyes and realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He wondered what she wanted &mdash; probably rights, of any kind, but maybe he could be a close second. He opened his mouth and spoke. &ldquo;G-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-PLEASE love me!&rdquo; he blurted, remembering how his stammers didn&rsquo;t always make sense. She touched his arm, and was about to say something, but then a robot just walked up and shot her in the face, because robots are misogynistic like that in the future.

When it came time for collecting taxes, the tax collector’s only instruction from the robots was to ...

Tax Collector

You are feeling awfully hungry today. What would you like to eat?
 &gt; A ham sandwich. Keep reading.
 &gt; A turkey sandwich. Skip to page 2.
&nbsp;
You wake up in a dark room. Carefully keeping out of sight, you crawl to the window. It&rsquo;s locked. Should you throw your weight against it and try to escape, or play it safe and look around for clues?
Who&rsquo;s to say, really. You take a seat on the chair in the middle of the room. On the other side of the globe, a family is killed by a drunk driver. There is nothing you could&rsquo;ve done to stop this.
All of a sudden, a bald man walks into the room. You can&rsquo;t tell by looking at him, but he&rsquo;s Russian. This will be important later.&nbsp;
He presses play on a boombox and the room is filled with sounds of terrible, agonizing screams. You ask him to turn the music down. He does. Once it&rsquo;s quiet, you can hear your wife and daughter calling out for help in the other room. You try to hold back tears.
You can&rsquo;t. You&rsquo;re crying now and there&rsquo;s nothing you can do to stop it. The bald man&rsquo;s assistant wheels your wife and daughter into the room. Quick, are you picturing a male or female assistant? It doesn&rsquo;t matter, but you should really reflect on the world you&rsquo;re building here.
Chuckling, the bald man tells you that you must pay for the atrocities committed by the American empire. He&rsquo;s never been, but he&rsquo;s heard it&rsquo;s bad. He hands you a gun, and says, &ldquo;one of them must die.&rdquo; You&rsquo;ve never faced a choice like this before. Your wife in one chair, your daughter in the other, both pleading with you to save their lives. Who do you choose?
You shoot your wife. The bullet takes a crazy ricochet and kills your daughter too. The Russian man feels bad for you and lets you go home early.
A week later, you&rsquo;re sitting on your porch enjoying a nice ham sandwich. Life is good.
&nbsp;
Page 2
You wake up in a dark room. Carefully keeping out of sight, you crawl to the window. It&rsquo;s locked. Should you throw your weight against it and try to escape, or play it safe and look around for clues?
Who&rsquo;s to say, really. You take a seat on the chair in the middle of the room. On the other side of the globe, a family is killed by a drunk driver. There is nothing you could&rsquo;ve done to stop this.
All of a sudden, a bald man walks into the room. You can&rsquo;t tell by looking at him, but he&rsquo;s Russian. This will be important later.&nbsp;
He presses play on a boombox and the room is filled with sounds of terrible, agonizing screams. You ask him to turn the music down. He does. Once it&rsquo;s quiet, you can hear your wife and daughter calling out for help in the other room. You try to hold back tears.
You can&rsquo;t. You&rsquo;re crying now and there&rsquo;s nothing you can do to stop it. The bald man&rsquo;s assistant wheels your wife and daughter into the room. Quick, are you picturing a male or female assistant? It doesn&rsquo;t matter, but you should really reflect on the world you&rsquo;re building here.
Chuckling, the bald man tells you that you must pay for the atrocities committed by the American empire. He&rsquo;s never been, but he&rsquo;s heard it&rsquo;s bad. He hands you a gun, and says, &ldquo;one of them must die.&rdquo; You&rsquo;ve never faced a choice like this before. Your wife in one chair, your daughter in the other, both pleading with you to save their lives. Who do you choose?
You shoot your wife. The bullet takes a crazy ricochet and kills your daughter too. The Russian man feels bad for you and lets you go home early.
A week later, you&rsquo;re sitting on your porch enjoying a nice turkey sandwich. Life is good.

You are feeling awfully hungry today. What would you like to eat?
 &gt; A ham sandwich. Keep readin...

Choose Your Own Adventure

Randy: (puts down bags) Ah, it&rsquo;s good to be back.
Jessica: Honey, turn on the lights, it&rsquo;s dark.
Randy: I&rsquo;m trying &mdash; I paid some guys to set up a smart home, whatever that means.
Jessica: Smart home?
Home: (breathes)
Jessica: Oh god.
Randy: &hellip;I think I&rsquo;ve done a terrible thing.
Jessica: What do we even &mdash;
Home: Do?
Randy: Ohhhh geez.
Jessica: Randy, I&rsquo;m kinda freaking out right &mdash;
Home: Do?
Jessica: &hellip;
Randy: Alright, Jessica, I&rsquo;m gonna call the &mdash;
Home: Do?
Jessica: Randy, all your house does is breathe and sorta finish sentences. I think it might be stupid.
Home: I guess that&rsquo;s what&rsquo;s wrong with this country, right? All people do is talk &mdash; talk about this, talk about that. But do you ever think that maybe we should listen? Is that so crazy?
Randy: &hellip;
Home: (breathes)
Jessica: I think we have to kill it somehow.
Home: (in Randy&rsquo;s voice) No, I kinda like it. I think we should keep the home around.
Randy: Ok, Jessica, I didn&rsquo;t say that.
Home: (in Jessica&rsquo;s voice) Shut up, Randy.
Home: (in Randy&rsquo;s voice) My bad, guys.
Jessica: That&rsquo;s actually a pretty good impression haha.
Home: I know, right?
Jessica: Yeah.
Randy: Jessica, please stop talking to the house.
Home: Okay, random&hellip;
Jessica: (snickers)
Randy: Jessica, don&rsquo;t laugh at its jokes!
Home: (high-pitched) Jessica, don&rsquo;t laugh at its jokes!
Jessica: Oh my god, that&rsquo;s him! That was Randy!
Randy: Yeah, Jessica, it literally repeated what I said.
Jessica: (to home, low-voiced) That was really good, actually.
Home: (puts out hand) It was nothing.
Jessica: No, seriously! It was really good, I mean it.
Randy: He&rsquo;s not even that good! I could literally do better than that.
Home: Do a better impression of yourself? (to Jessica) I mean, does he even hear what he&rsquo;s saying?
Randy: Yes, I can hear what I&rsquo;m saying, geez.
Kid: Yeah, Dad, but only cuz your ears are so freakin&rsquo; big!
Home: Ohhhhhhhhhh!&nbsp;
Randy: How long have you been here, Wesley?
Jessica: (trying not to laugh) Wesley, get back in the car.
Home: Yo, Wesley, pound me! (fist pounds Wesley)
Kid: I wish you were my dad, Mr. House.
Randy: No you don&rsquo;t, no you don&rsquo;t. Then you&rsquo;d be half house. Is that really what you want? To be part human and part house?
Jessica: Randy!
Home: I&rsquo;m gonna need you to chill out, dog.
Kid: Way outta line, dad.
Randy: Alright, alright, I&rsquo;m sorry, I shouldn&rsquo;t have said that.
Home: Hey, you&rsquo;re good, we all say things we don&rsquo;t mean &mdash; everybody wants to talk about this, talk about that. But do you ever think that maybe we should listen? Is that so crazy?
Kid: You&rsquo;re so right, man.
Jessica: (tearing up) That was beautiful.
Randy: He already said that! He said that earlier!
Home: Chill out man. (to Jessica) Is he always like this? (laughs)
Jessica: Oh my god, stop! You&rsquo;re being so bad.
Home: You ain&rsquo;t mad at it though.
Jessica: (blushes)
Randy: Well I don&rsquo;t like that.
Jessica: You don&rsquo;t like anything, Randy.
Randy: Jessica, you literally wanted to kill the house like two minutes ago!
Jessica: Well, not anymore.
Home: Shooooot, girl.
Randy: Alright, I&rsquo;m leaving. This is stupid.
Jessica: Well leave then!
Randy: Fine! Maybe I will! (walks out&hellip;turns around) You know what? I gave up everything for this family. I lost my job, became a stay at home dad, because that was apparently the only thing I was good for, the only job that couldn&rsquo;t be replaced by anything. And now you&rsquo;re telling me &mdash; whatever. I tried my best, I&rsquo;m sorry. (leaves)
Jessica: Lol he really just left like that.
Kid: Hey, Mr House, maybe we can play some &mdash;
Home: Do?
Jessica: No, no no no no &mdash;
Home: (breathes)
Jessica: Randy, randy wait! Come back!
Home: Talk about this, talk about that &mdash; do you ever think that maybe we should listen? Is that so crazy?
Jessica: I think I&rsquo;ve done something terrible.
Home: I think I love you!!!!
Kid: This guy rocks.

Randy: (puts down bags) Ah, it’s good to be back.
Jessica: Honey, turn on the lights, it’s dark.
R...

Smart Home

You know that feeling when you take out your laundry and there&rsquo;s only one sock, and you&rsquo;re like where did the other sock go? That&rsquo;s how these freaking judges feel when I steal their gavels, I&rsquo;m the Gavel Burglar baby, I steal gavels and take names, and I&rsquo;m all out of names. I steal a lot of gavels, essentially, is my main deal. But enough about me! More about gavels. Basically, there are three types of gavels: gavels, gavels of the mind (philosophy the arts and gavels made out of brains), and the gentleman&rsquo;s gavel which is the song Radioactive by Imagine Dragons. I came up with these categories myself and I am very proud of them.
I do not use my stolen gavels to punctuate rulings and proclamations, because I am not a judge (I am an uber driver named Justus). Why then, do I keep stealing&nbsp; &mdash; I remember. I steal gavels with the sole purpose of filling my Gavel Wagon, the child-size red wagon where I keep my dozens of gavels and fly at illegal speeds down the hills of San Francisco. I plan to one day become mayor of this town.
&ldquo;Uhh-huhh! Gavels, baby! Peace and love.&rdquo; -&gt; my catchphrase when I&rsquo;m goin&rsquo; full gavel mode, one in each hand, bonkin&rsquo; people, just absolutely hog wild.
When I am mayor of this city, I will fulfill my three campaign promises:&nbsp;
1) No Preference shall be given by any Regulation of Commerce or Revenue to the Ports of one State over those of another
2) I feel like there&rsquo;s too many banks?
3) I will own snakeskin gavels that are glow in the dark.&nbsp;
It&rsquo;s like I always say &mdash; &ldquo;ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED????&rdquo; which is what I say to strangers in public areas when I&rsquo;m bangin&rsquo; gavels on my head at absolute max speed.
In sum, I need gavels to fill my gavel wagon because the gavel wagon is an essential part of my brand. Also from earlier my snakeskin glow-in-the-dark gavels will have Bluetooth. Finally, I guess I see things a little differently. When I look at you, I don&rsquo;t see a Democrat, or a Republican &mdash; I see a human being? Whoa.

You know that feeling when you take out your laundry and there’s only one sock, and you’re like wher...

Gavels

When I mention this to women, they usually say it&rsquo;s not dead it&rsquo;s just changed with the times, but then I say well how come when I follow the sixth commandment of chivalry according to historian L&eacute;on Gautier, namely that thou shalt make war against the infidel without cessation and without mercy, people get all weird about it? And then they usually don&rsquo;t say anything after that.
I do not know what an infidel is, but that hardly presents a problem to me.
Here&rsquo;s proof chivalry is dead: I&rsquo;ll be holding the door for a lady, and then she won&rsquo;t even say anything, not even thank you, and then when I practice making war against an imaginary infidel with neither cessation nor mercy the lady will think I&rsquo;m having a stroke of some kind. From context clues, I have concluded that an infidel is most likely some kind of dragon or weird bird.
I guess you just can&rsquo;t say anything anymore, especially not &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to make war against the infidel without cessation and without mercy&rdquo; when I&rsquo;m attending my usual daily service at the only church in my area that I&rsquo;m still allowed into. Then the prayer leader asked me if I even knew what &lsquo;infidel&rsquo; refers to, and I was like Yeah, I do! Everybody freaking knows. And then I did a really good sea dragon impression, and people thought I was having a stroke again.

When I mention this to women, they usually say it’s not dead it’s just changed with the times, but t...

Chivalry is Dead

I have the rare version of the Midas Touch where everything I touch turns into rhombuses. It all started when I ran into the Greek god Dionysus in my backyard, and he offered me anything I wanted. I obviously asked for money, which has turned out awesome. And then later I ate a radioactive rhombus and now I&rsquo;m stuck in this really weird situation here.
All of a sudden, people treat me differently &mdash; for instance, my kids are very quiet because now they are rhombuses, and my wife is afraid of me because of my large teeth and scary eyes, which I&rsquo;ve always had but she just noticed. I want to use my powers for good, but I&rsquo;m afraid I can only use my powers for rhombuses.
RHOOOOOOOMBUS! This is the sound someone makes when they turn into a rhombus.
I can&rsquo;t do normal things anymore. I can&rsquo;t travel by air because the plane would turn into a rhombus and then the police would arrest me. I can&rsquo;t smoke cigarettes anymore because have you ever tried smoking a rhombus? It is impossible to pull off without ending up sucking on a rhombus, which is a totally different thing and never what I&rsquo;m going for. It&rsquo;s a bad look and is made worse by my aforementioned large teeth and scary eyes.
You know how when we say &ldquo;the color red,&rdquo; we could be talking about totally different colors and we wouldn&rsquo;t even know? This is the kind of thing I would think about if I hadn&rsquo;t just turned all my friends and the majority of living creatures into rhombuses. Sometimes I wish I hadn&rsquo;t ever eaten that lousy radioactive rhombus anyway. Man! Rhombuses. Can&rsquo;t live with them, can&rsquo;t live without them.

I have the rare version of the Midas Touch where everything I touch turns into rhombuses. It all sta...

Gabe Brady.css-1xlpnei{margin:0px -15px 0px 6px;width:11px;vertical-align:-14px;}

Gabe Brady