A little explanation: In college, I developed an alter-ego writer that I called The Mustard King. Really it was a way to just let go of anything I called sensible and write in a style that fit my mood, which was mostly ridiculous. I did a lot of writing in snippets but never anything that amounted to a real story of any kind, in other words I’m a great starter but bad at finishing. So, here are a few of the random starts and stops from the archives, enjoy!

The look on Ursula’s face turned to disgust as she took the turkey flatbread sandwich off the serving tray and as she began to hurl it towards the wall Marge then realized that she had indeed used the imported Norwegian mustard and NOT the Big Bird yellow store-bought kind.

Had he realized what he had done before he entered the convenience store, Todd might not have asked the clerk for change in Drachmas-the national currency of Greece-when he purchased that pack of Hostess mini-gems, he might still be alive.

Further angered by the fact that he was wearing light colored clothes, Marla asked Greg to step further towards the curb allowing the cab’s broken mirror to fatally cut him right in his femoral artery, a sight that the townspeople of Hingsburg hadn’t witnessed since Jim Thomas had that horrible run-in with the public park grill in 1986.

As far as haircuts go, Stan’s was bad…but not too bad. Kind of like when you have a Caesar salad that is just a few minutes old.

When she ordered the Croque Monsieur Fatima forgot about the one she was carrying in her purse. It was angered so terribly that it exploded in a violent rage so extreme the thin lining between space and time was completely destroyed creating the chaos that we now know as, reality television.