Gentles all:   The following story contains reference to a form of Japanese street fashion, the adherents to which refer to as Elegant Gothic Lolita. Note, that the term “Lolita” refers to this style of clothing. This, with Gabi's kind help, is a revised and illustrated version of the story that originally appeared on Crystal’s Storysite.

Hansel and Gretel: A Fairytale. Act 1. By Sarah Lynn Morgan

"I thought you were going to cook us all dinner before you went." There were times when I could cheerfully thump Simon, this was one such.

"No way, I have to save my energy for Des." I smirked back at him, the look on his face was probably more satisfying than a slap.

Stella giggled then said, "I hope you have your sexiest lingerie."

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by: Angharad.

"You ready to climb up and hook the ladder." I whispered to Karen.

She nodded, and stepped into my hands as I lifted her to waist level. Two quick taps on her leg then a quick hop had her standing on my shoulders. Two more taps, and I stood back up. She squeezed her toes to my chin so I knew she could reach the sill. I stood very still, bracing my hands against the brick wall.

Ma‘at

Chapter 7 - Back to the Future
By Itinerant

Synopsis: She's Baaaaack! But how does Dani convince her team she was Dan?

And who're those guys in the weird car?

"No, I'm an ordinary woman who came to womanhood by a more tortuous path than you, but my world is as boring and mundane as yours. I'm not into any secret worlds except that of The Mammal Society and Portsmouth university cycling club." It was a slight fib, but I felt my cowardice wouldn't allow her to tar me with any brush, except that of normality.

THIS SERIES CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF FORCED BOZOFICATION, BIZARRE NOSE MODIFICATION, SELTZER-WATER SPORTS AND PIE PLAY. IF YOU DO NOT LIKE "CLOWNDOM" STORIES PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS ONE. IT WILL ONLY UPSET YOU...

======== HUMOR ME
======== by LAIKA PUPKINO
======== Part One: TURNING PUNKIN' JUDY

[===> As I review my notes here in this abandoned fun house deep in the Monkeyshine District, I am aware that this memoir has ended up a lot longer than the few pages I had assumed it would take. But the more I wrote the more important it became to chronicle the events of that day---my bizarre transformation and everything that led up to it---EXACTLY as I remember them. It would sadden me terribly to think that Billy Xenakis had disappeared off the face of the Earth without leaving at least some record. So please. Humor me here...]

I really began to think where my life went wrong. As I looked at my life for those 15 years I spent living in that hell on earth as I now refered to it years later. I realized I had a few choices really, 1. kill myself , I really came close several times over that 15 years I spent with my undeserving parents and brother. 2. leave and never look back. I chose option 2.

"On January 1, 2008, a new new agency was born. The mission of this agency? To repair the personality flaws that

have long kept the human race from achieving harmony with each other.

They are led by a tough, no nonsense, director named Rebecca Snow. She went to work assembling the best team of agents, the Universe had to offer.

Agency: The Bureau Of Karmic Retribution

"That's your new high school: Blessed Yvette High School for Girls. I've told you the name before."

"I don't think so," I said. "I'd remember a whacked-out name like that."

She gave me a funny look.

. . . Then, looking down at my own chest, I realized what they were really looking at. My nipples, the nipples which Rebecca had insisted I glue to my breast forms, now jutted aggressively through my sports bra. They were calling to the men like the Sirens called to the lost sailors in the Odyssey.

. . . He had never turned his personality on like this when I was a man. Now, he was totally engaging: a force of nature, nearly. I knew that if I continued to look into his eyes, he'd melt me, and all I'd want to do was caress his face with my hand, and then pull him down into another kiss. But I just couldn't let that happen. . .

. . . And as long as I was rebelling, I decided to leave my toes, figuring that no one would see them anyway, and I could wait until they chipped to clean them up. At least that's what I told Rebecca. I really thought that once they needed to be redone, I could just switch to another color, and no one would see that either.