"One Alien Egg please, quasar side up," Carey ordered. Carey was well aware that she was living in what some might refer to as "the future". But it wasn't the future for her, it was the present. For instance, she wouldn't call lasers futuristic, she'd call them presentistic.

"Scouts tell me Sauron was spotted in the west. He's building an army," Elrond told Galadriel. "Is he white?" she asked. "Uh, yeah I think so...?" "Good. Otherwise it's not believable nor authentic," she said. Rings of White Power Coming this fall.

The Harfoots packed up their hobbit things and started the long trek out of the Southlands. They were a nomadic group, always moving around for no real reason. (Actually it’s because they heard pipe-weed was legal in The Shire but don’t tell your kids that.)

“Is that.. the mystical sword, Val-mir?” asked Li’thmil. The Ranger lifted his weapon. “That it is, elf.” The blade glistened in the morning light, a single gem on the pommel shone with an otherworldly glow. Li’thmil saw a Megadeth sticker on the blade. “Badass,” he whispered.

As Ted grappled with the zombie, a sandwich fell out of his pocket and landed next to the rotting foot of his attacker. It was a ham and cheese on wheat bread with some lettuce and swiss cheese. There were some tomato slices in there too and mustard. Also a bag of chips fell out.

She reached the end of the cavernous room and opened the chest. In complete awe, she pulled out a treasure greater than all the jewels of Aranatra: the fabled Heart of Steve. It was difficult for her to really appreciate it with the dude constantly screaming, though.

The dragon roared as it took to the air, where its might would truly be known. Suddenly, though, it flew in a loop and took to the ground, instead. Ah, the ground: a dragons true killing field. That's when the beast did a twirl and took to the river. Oh boy, now we're talking...

Spinax pleaded with his skeletal wife as she furiously packed her body bag. “I can explain!” “Really? You were watching HUMAN porn! They're centuries younger than you! I’ll be at my sister’s mausoleum. I don't know how you can be undead with yourself.” She clattered out the door.

We can't sit by and not let you know that Garth Marenghi has finally released GARTH MARENGHI'S TERRORTOME. Three bone chilling tales 30 years in the making.

"The creature could be disguised as any one of us!" said John. "It could, and I figured out who it is," answered Dr. Wong. "It's you!" She pointed a finger directly at YOU, the reader! Didn't see that coming, did you? Are you sure you're human? This is a fun book, huh?

The necromancer Minufir showed his new e-reader to Lucifen, “All of my dark spells in here now. Much easier.” Lucifen grunted. “I dunno, there’s just something about the smell of mummified skin pages and the sound of anguished wails from a newly cursed tome that can’t be beat.”

He looked at her trembling in the alley. “I sense great power in you. You lived your life as a beggar and a thief, but I can teach you to use that power!” “But I can’t leave, I have no money for travel,” she said. “Fear not, it’s prophecy! And I’ve started a GoFundMe for you.”

“Run, El’nir! There is no saving your dwarf friend! The Succubus has ensnared him in her spell!” El’nir spun back to Begras, “Snap out of it!” Indeed he was too far gone. “HUMINA HUMINA HUMINA,” said Begras. El’nir sobbed as steam shot out of the dwarf’s ears. “AWOOGA!” he added.

Tarn saddled the horse and hopped on, hoping he could remember how to ride. He let out a breathy whistle and rocked back and forth a bit, lightly tapping the horse's flanks with his heels. "Hyah!" he half whispered to himself as his hat fell off and landed in a puddle nearby.

"It'll never work between us, Diara. You being a Mummula, and me a Weremer Werewolf." Diara teared up. "Who cares if I'm half mummy and half Dracula! And who cares if the top half of you turns into a wolf during a full moon while the bottom half turns into a fish at high tide!"

Pipo could feel his body compress as an unseen magic wrapped him as tight as a letter in an envelope! "To whom it may concern," this letter might read, "I fear I may be squeezed to death soon. Please open the envelope and let me out as soon as you are able. Regards, Pipo."

Gohk scanned the food on the table at the Orc BBQ he reluctantly attended—Elf ear salad, Elf burgers, 2 liters of fizzy Elf milk. It was so hard to be an Elvegan in this day and age. To top it all off, no one had touched the Elv'n nuggets he brought.

The vault-door shut behind Edward, leaving only one sound: the whistlin' wind of the apocalyptic wasteland before him — it was actually all around him (the vault door wasn't very high; he wasn't very short, either... (his mom used to say, "[Edward], you're tall-ish!")).

Elimas looked at Aermyn in anticipation, the waterfall of Rivendell almost deafening behind them. Aermyn finally spoke. “I really like you Elimas, just not… like that.” Elimas sighed. He should have known he would be mellon-zoned.

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