The Story Begins

Thanks for joining me as we relive a golden era of storytelling from the early years of the Atomic Age.

I never was any good at this. — Ponyard Kipling

Truly Inconvenient

“Are you trying to commit political suicide?” Naked-rump Tomb Bat pulled his candidate back from the stage as the crowd started to cheer. “You can’t go out there and tell them the truth. They don’t live for the truth. They only want the sweet lies that bring them comfort and security in their own cramped little worlds. I know your intentions are good, you’ve got morals, and good ones at that. Our colleagues take in huge sums and still can’t buy any.”

Belts

A Golden Pheasant Photo by Claire Smith on Unsplash

“Yes, yes, I know you think I see everything as a problem to be crushed, ” Golden Pheasant said irritated, “but seriously, I’m not going to drive a nail with a screwdriver. Where is my damn hammer?”

Can I get a witness?

“I’m going to interview the widow one more time.” Orkney Vole picked up his shades and hat from his desk. “Something about her story still sounds fishy to me, kind of like, she’s awful cheerful to tell it.”

Aw crap…

A Bluejay Photo by Mathew Schwartz on Unsplash

Blue Jay checked around the corner one more time to make sure the heat was not nearby. “All right, gang, the coast is clear. Let’s see that long green and take a knee. I got a pair of dice fresh out the bag and just ready to shoot. Place your bets!”

How may I connect you?

A shrew

Water Shrew slammed the phone down. “Oh! When I get hold of that switchboard operator I’m going ring her dingy ding ding. That’s the tenth time today I got a wrong number call and they all want to know the time and temperature!”