Trumpelstiltskin in Space

“Please, Barak O’Bama, let me go back to Earth and I will show with good works how much I repent of being a jerk.”

                “Trumplelstiltskin, I thought you were dumb but I didn’t know you were crazy.   I ain’t even got started on you …”

                Just then Trumpelstiltskin jumped off of heaven and into space.  Luckily the golden strands upon his head caught the attention of gravity and pulled him away.  Barak O’Bama saw this and commanded gravity to cease and desist but gravity didn’t pay him no mind.  He tried vetoing it but that didn’t work either.  So Trumpelstiltskin was laughing in space and sticking out his tongue some more at Barak O’Bama.

                Gravity isn’t real fast from so far away so Trumpelstiltskin seemed to float around for quite awhile which gave him plenty of time to contemplate the error of his ways.   Unable to find it, he returned to thoughts of satisfying his ever-growing hunger for baby Mexicans.

                Then a planet appeared beneath Trumpelstiltskin and he knew that soon he would be around good food again.  Trumpelstiltskin’s golden strands blossomed out into a parachute and he gently touched down in a red wasteland.

                “Shit,” he thought, “this must be Mars.”  Then he brightened.   “But everyone here will be an alien and taste great!”

                Then a Martian flew up to Trumpelstiltskin and said in a German accent, “Your passport please.”

                Trumpelstitskin said, “$$$K you.   I don’t need a stupid passport to come here.  I’m heaven sent.”

                Then a customs official Martian crawled over and said, ”Trumpelstiltskin, you are an illegal alien.  Stop raping everybody.”

                So then Trumplestitskin got really mad and sat on the customs official.

                The customs official said, “Let’s make a deal.”

               

to be continued...

                

Trumpelstiltskin Meets his Maker

‘Trumpelstiltskin was surprised to see Barak O’Bama in Heaven. He said, “Barak O’Bama, why do I keep having your children.   Just cut it out, Barak O’bama.”

“Yo Trumpelstiltskin, shutuppayou mouth when you're up here.   When you were alive, you thought I was just  El Presidente of those United States of Unamerican Activities.  That’s just the best I could do down there.  As you can see, this is my day job.  If you think I gave you some shit before, just think what I can do now.”

                Trumpelstiltskin stuck out his tongue.  “Barak O’Bama, you can’t do anything to me because I already made it here.”

                “Really, Trumpelstiltskin, is that what you think?  Maybe you’re here because I requested you.”

                So then Barak O’Bama drew a curtain.   Behind it stood Mickey Rooney with a skunk spraying him eternally.  Barak O’Bama said, “I hated The Atomic Kid.”

                Then Trumpelstiltskin started getting nervous.  

"Trumpelstiltskin, you've been an incredible jerk your whole life.  You either have to sincerely repent or pay the consequences."

Will  Trumpelstiltskin repent??  Stay tuned

More from my latest novel

“I still say Klingons is the niggers of outer space,” Curtis Baumgartner said.

          Wayne Clewless took a slug of Pabst, then set down the can with authority and stared down the bar at Baumgartner like he was sighting him with his .22. “And I keep tellin you they ain't no niggers in space.”

          “I ain't talkin bout actual niggers. I'm sayin they is the niggers of space.”

          “And I'm sayin they ain't no niggers in space.”
        “ What he's sayin Wayne,” Buddy Burnsed stepped in, “ is ever place has its niggers. And in space it's the Klingons.”

          “But how'd they ever get in space? And how'd a bunch a niggers build a space ship? Answer me that. ”

          “Them Klingon ships do look like they's nigger-rigged, Curtis,” Buddy Burnsed said.

          “They ain't... regular... niggers,” Curtis Baumgartner explained, exasperated. “They got regular niggers on the Enterprise. You kin see the diff'rence.”

          “Okay. So you's sayin' they's space niggers.”

          “If thet's the closest you kin come to unnerstandin it, Wayne, then yeah. They's space niggers.”

          Wayne stared upward, visualizing the final frontier in the glo-in-the-dark stars glued to the ceiling.  “Well, if they's niggers in space, then why they ain't no Klan?  Answer me that.”

          Curtis almost fell off his stool.  “Wayne, you idiot – what'd you think the Fed'ration is?”

          Buddy Burnsed muttered “Jesus Christ, Wayne,” into his beer.   

"Levine is laugh out loud.  He is a master of the genre."  - Midwest Book Review

The Last Opus of Hector Berlioz ...  available on Amazon Kindle or e-mail for a real book

Trumpelstiltskin for President

Everybody said, “Trumpelstiltskin will be a great president!” and “Trumpelstiltskin will save us from things!”

Then some other people said, “Wait a minute.  We want somebody else to be President.”

So Trumpelstiltskin  became President of the United States.   Hooray for Trumplestiltskin!

Trumpelstiltskin was always rubbing his hands together now.  The first thing he said was, “Mexican families can stay but I have to eat all their babies.”  President Stiltskin got so excited when he said this that he flew all across the western hemisphere like a giant balloon somebody let go of.  Finally he came down in Mexico where everybody thought he was the pin~ata from God and stuck pitchforks in him and beat him with bats. 

                So Trumpelstiltskin was dead.  When God saw him floating up to Heaven he almost blew a gasket.  “Trumpelstiltskin, why for is you coming here?” he yelled. 

                Trumpelstiltskin thought only of angel food.

to be continued...

Excerpt from my latest novel

Lawful ownership of many Taft houses was a concept  of no greater consequence than the middle name of the man in the moon.  People lived in them until they perished, were pushed out or failed to find their way home again.  Then immediately somebody else entered and controlled the space.  With neither the time nor the inclination to pine for a vacancy, Bubbah Berlioz scouted a block, identified his target and forced out a family of Jewish midgets.  He ensconced his wife there to begin their life together.   

The Last Opus of Hector Berlioz … available on Amazon Kindle or e-mail for signed first edition.  Buy one.

“Tom Levine manages to offend pretty much every segment of society in this hilarious new novel.” –Jim Finnigan