One mop bucket, one large blue garbage bag stretched open over a plastic garbage can, and a mélange of cleaning fluids of different colours and sickly sweet smells sloppily arranged on the rack devoted solely to these, all taking their place on David\'s janitor cart, are pleasing to the eye. David wheels down the hall, on the second floor of the Freniah Building, and he is forever looking forward, be it for obstacles, or a new and valuable object, or a friendly office worker pulling an all-nighter - those silly people. He is collecting the refuse of the previous day, wearing blue jeans, a blue long-sleeved shirt, and a vague smile.
In the
Quinn was dying. Of course, it\'s true that we are all dying, but Quinn was dying just a little bit faster. He had contracted a rare disease from a bad burger. The burger looked and tasted delicious, but you just can\'t taste those little virii, and too bad for Quinn. Quinn was dying.
Quinn didn\'t know that he was dying. Someone else did.
He sat down at the table for breakfast. His mother seemed to hover about the kitchen; she made delicate footsteps, and her dress fell down to the floor. Quinn was amused, and smiled.
\"Wipe that smile off your face, mister, and eat. You\'re going to be late for school,\" she admonished gent
Everyone in Blighton, New Jersey, knew Arthur Hullabo. They all detested him.
You see, Arthur was the sort of person who would go out of their way to make
someone else to feel miserable. He would say things like, \"With a face like
that, I\'m surprised you haven\'t committed suicide yet,\" or \"God hates your
guts.\" Arthur kept a list of these terrible one-liners in an ever-expanding
book he labeled, \"Things my foul mouth has said\".
His idea of a good time was tossing sticky bird seed at people in the park. Oh
how the birds would flock on those poor passers-by. The only thing that kept
him from getting arrested for t