
Cruella De Vil and the Strange Nine-year-old Boy Who Loved Her
And I still love the unapologetic bad girls. A dalmatian never changes its spots. Continue reading Cruella De Vil and the Strange Nine-year-old Boy Who Loved Her
And I still love the unapologetic bad girls. A dalmatian never changes its spots. Continue reading Cruella De Vil and the Strange Nine-year-old Boy Who Loved Her
Frank died. Frank died. Frank died. Continue reading How Frank Learned To Fight for the Gods
By Benjamin Davis Welcome to “What Happened When Frank Died.” In this column, for as long as I’m allowed, I’m going to kill Frank. Like—a lot. Worse, every two weeks, he will then be subjected to a multiverse of afterlives: absurd, funny, brutal, depressing, wild, creepy, heart-wrenching afterlives. Some will be based on existing theories, some on my own demented imaginings. In each, Frank will begin … Continue reading Why Frank Went Searching for a Towel
Frank found himself drawn to a group of others. Continue reading Why Frank Ate Brains for Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner
He moved slower and slower, each creaking step, his knuckles becoming knobs, his fingers blossoming into thick black leaves as he slammed an arm down on the branch of the tree. Continue reading When Frank Went for a Walk in the Wood
“Go on, ask your questions, you guys always have them.” Continue reading Why Frank Chose His Family Over an Eternal Orgy
Head, shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes! Continue reading What Happened When Frank Stopped Dancing
“Everything’s fine,’ Sam would insist ‘It’s just your maternal instinct kicking in, nature’s way of ensuring survival. I’d be more inclined to worry if you didn’t respond as quickly.” Continue reading Gridlocked
“What is the average number of pickles you can fit in a pickle jar?” he said. He looked down at her with an eyebrow raised and went on. “Hm, how many smoked ham bones can a three-hundred-pound man eat before he dies?” Continue reading Because Frank Could Not Stop for Death She Kindly Stopped for Him
By Benjamin Davis Frank died. A vast field opened up before him. He looked around, left then right. He frowned. To his left was a green plain of roaming hills. To his right, a landscape of nightmares. For as far as he could see, a squirming, wriggling desert of fat worms stretched ahead. Frank moved closer to it. His vision wasn’t great. But still, it … Continue reading All Dogs (And Frank) Go To Heaven