Spookiness Rating: 1

We Have Enough Twists, Thank You


They're driving me insane.

The voices. They won't leave me alone. They keep asking me questions. But no matter how many times I answer, they keep asking.

Why do they keep asking me these questions? Why won't they let me be?

If only I knew their names, maybe they would leave me in peace.

Won't you please, please help me?


Because she lacks a Y chromosome, and therefore produces less testosterone and more estrogen; cultural conditioning plays a large role as well.

No; my current mood is realistic, perhaps even a bit cynical.

Sure, it's easy; just put your arms around me and sway back and forth a little in time to the music.

Yes; In fact, Tuesday would be fine regardless of the weather.

Of course; just go north on Highway 101.

Forty-two.

I don't know what it can mean; now stop trying to cheer me up and let me get back to sleep.

Any change in your terpsichorean abilities is not relevant to my feelings for you.

No; some photographs are utterly devoid of narrative content.

Non; je suis réveillé

My bouts of seasickness are indeed very rare, though if you insist, I must admit they are not completely nonexistent.

Certainly not! Surely you can find a more polite way to decline his amorous advances, even if you find it impossible to do so in the conventional straightforward manner.

None of the above; Cheer him up, be quiet, don't say a word about love, and hide how you feel.

Because I was so anxious to hear you say that, that it caused me to overlook your lifelong reputation for mendacity.

Actually, I believe we met at home of the second assistant director.

They always are; they're just obscured by clouds sometimes.

It's none of your business who locates it, as long as I pay it by the first every month.

Yes; if you really wanted me to travel to Mali, I would go.

Because you have no artistic talent whatsoever.

No; There's more.

The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle.

No. I'm lousy at geography, so I thought we were on the Orient Express.

No; I'm too tired to dance any more, and the moon's about to set anyway.

No, I haven't seen her, Mr. Gibb.

No-one told her, because nobody ever saw any days of the week talking on a telephone.

Actually, if you get up early enough, you can usually hear them sing anywhere in the entire city.

Yes, it's le Coeur de la Mer.

No; I prefer hardcovers.

I guess you ought to go, since it'll only cause half as much trouble.

Yes, it's quite warm and cozy.

It's right there in the first four letters of the word.

Because they all describe taboo practices.

No-one; it's inexplicable.

How can I tell him to hurry up and follow you, when you don't even know who it is yet?

I have no objection to a sign, regardless of whether it reflects.

Turn right on Rosemary Drive, go two blocks, then turn left on Caraway Avenue, and take that to the end. You can't miss it.

Could it be...SATAN?

Sure, but that won't help unless you can persuade all the impostors to remain seated.

Actually, since it's inside the Smithsonian, it doesn't really wave any more.

No; I'm just wandering aimlessly about.

With a stone, of course; can't you figure anything out without asking me?

Don't let him pilot a supertanker.

No; The game is no fun, so we cannot be truly content until we stop playing it.

Melinda; Bill; Yes, much, much, more so than you.

Just boring stuff that I need for this stupid MCAS test.

I don't know, but maybe you could ask Jim Croce; he wanted to put some in a bottle.

Because the asphalt would chafe.

Maybe someone who wanted to help them escape from Cruella De Vil.

The Edsels.

Because you can keep it up longer when you're sober.

Because you don't do enough sit-ups and ab crunches.


_   _ _ _ _   _ _ _ *   _   _ _ _ _

_ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _   * _ _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _   _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _   _ _ _ *

_ _   _ _ _   * _ _ _   _ _

_ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _   _ _ _ _   _   _ _ _
_   _ _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _
_ _ _ _   _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _   _ _ * _

_   _ _ _ _   * _   _ _ _

_ * _   _ _ _ _   _ _   _ _   _ _   _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _

_ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _   _ *

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _   _ * _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _   _ _ * _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _

_ _ _   _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _   * _ _ _   _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _   _ _   _ _   _ _ _ _   _   _ _ _ _ _ * _
_ _ _ _ _ _

_ * _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _ _

* _

_ _ _ _ _ *   _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _

_ * _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ * _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _

* _ _ _ _ _

* _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _   _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ *

_   _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _ * _

_ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ *   _ _ _

_ _ _ _   _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ *

_ * _ _   _   _ _ _   _ _   _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ * _ _   _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _ * _ _ _

_ _ _ * _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ * _ _

_   _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _ _ *   _

_ _ _ _ _   * _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _   _   _ _ _ _ _

_   _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _   * _ _   _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _

_ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ * _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _   * _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ * _

_ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ * _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _   * _

_ _ _ _ _ * _ _   _ _ _

_ _ _ _   _ * _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

* _ _ _   _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _   _   _ _   _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _   _   _ _ _ _   _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _   _   _ *

_   _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ *   _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _   * _ _

_ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ *   _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ * _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _   _   _ _ _ _   _ _   _ _ _   * _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ *

_ _   _ _   _ _ _ * _ _ _ _

_   _ _ * _ _   _ _ _   _ _

_ _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _   _ _ _   * _   _ _ _   _ _ _ _

_ _ _   _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _ * _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ * _ _   _ _ _ _ _ _ _