You have cancer. It’s inoperable.
That one’s just depressing, here’s one a little different.
Just moments before he bled out, the five year old boy whispered “Why?” The dog paused, looked at his master and said “because I love you”, and then began to eat.
You’re good eatin’, Charlie Brown.
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you that your daughter’s special kidney pie was just wonderful.”
“Thanks, would you like to share another one with me next month when she gets back from camp?”
You have cancer. It’s self aware.
“She wasn’t actually your daughter. I killed her anyway.”
You have cancer. It’s asking us to operate.
Turns out it wasn’t cancer after all. That’s the good news…
Since the coming of the aliens we have seen an end to hunger, disease, poverty, and war. And really, even if we were in a position to dispute, one percent of our newborns is such a tiny price to pay.
The food…IT BURNS!:eek:
This is not original but I can’t remember where I read it.
“You’ve locked us in!” he yelled.
“Just you,” she said as she walked through the door.
I will love you until the moment you take your dying breath. I will let you know when that is.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror, devastated to the core, as his tears rolled down his cheeks. The reflection concluded, “…and I’ve taken her to a place where you will never find her…”
You have to say his name three times for that to work.
At that, a thunderclap resounded from the heavens, 6,666 ravens took flight over the field as it turned the color of blood, and the sun took on a ghastly sheen of ichorous mauve…
I’m sorry, but you have a case of Life. It’s terminal.
Cradling her fussy new baby, Monica looked over her shoulder as she walked slowly down the corridor telling her assistant “…only 2 more weeks of maternity leave so don’t let anyone near my accounts and keep Anderson out of my office…” when she heard the ding of the elevator and stepped through the open doors.
In the basement, a maintenance man who was by all rights many years past retirement, rummaged through scattered boxes and cursed quietly to himself “Where the hell is the God damn Out-Of-Service tape?!”
Jack stood in the lab and preached to his colleagues, “Think of it, we’ll never get sick, the nano-bots will repair any damage or disease instantly!”
William turned to his local public display screen in sync with the other 1.3 trillion starving people on earth to watch the daily ritual flogging of the man who had doomed them all to eternal suffering and as the whipping began, for what had to be the millionth time by now, Jack once again predictably pleaded that he couldn’t have known the bots would escape into the wild, while nearby the New World Clergy wandered through the crowd lobbying for the mandatory worldwide sterilization plan they had been preaching for centuries.
“It’s OK, kids” he said as the two children climbed into their parent’s bed after waking up in the middle of the night, “There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“I disagree.” came a strange voice out of the darkness.
The night we moved into the house, we huddled silently in the darkness while the creatures howled outside, and she asked me if I’d locked all the doors, even the back door off the hallway.
“We have a back door off the hallway?”
Then, in an even bigger surprise, from only one floor down, he heard Rosalind Shays’ voice. “I fucking own you bastards now.”
(inspired by the elevator shaft one from zoid above)