Issue
 Eighteen
 
 October
 2006
©2006
by 
Cliff 
Johnson 
All 
Rights 
Reserved 
Help Wanted: Telepath... the officious newsletter of author Cliff Johnson ... you know where to apply.
illustration by Brad Parker

     >Take One<
     Do undertakers enjoy their job? — Of corpse!
     How does a werewolf sign his letters? — Best vicious!
     What did one ghost say to the other ghost? — “Do you believe in people?”
     Do zombies eat popcorn with their fingers? — No, they eat the fingers separately.
     Why do mummies have trouble keeping friends? — They’re too wrapped up in themselves.
     Did you hear why the cannibal was expelled from school? — He was caught buttering up his teacher.
      >Take Two<
     When Pepsi Cola translated their ad campaign for Taiwan, the slogan was supposed to read “Come Alive with the Pepsi Generation.” However, translated into Chinese it read, “Pepsi Will Bring Your Ancestors Back From the Dead.”
     >Take Three<
     Two men walking home decided to take a shortcut through the cemetery. They were startled by a tap-tap-tapping noise and found an old man with a hammer and chisel, chipping away at one of the headstones.
     “Yikes, Mister!” one of them shouted after catching his breath, “You scared us half to death — we thought you were a ghost! What are you doing working here so late at night?”
     “Those fools!” the old man grumbled. “They misspelled my name!”
     >Take Four<
     Willie fell down the elevator.
     Wasn’t found till six days later.
     Then the neighbors sniffed, “Gee whiz!
     What a spoiled child Willie is.”
     >Take Five<
     Alfred Hitchcock admitted, “I’m frightened of eggs, worse than frightened, they revolt me. That white round thing without any holes — have you ever seen anything more revolting than an egg yolk breaking and spilling its yellow liquid? Blood is jolly red. But egg yolk is yellow, revolting. I’ve never tasted it.”
     He is also reported to have explained, “These are bagpipes. I understand the inventor of the bagpipes was inspired when he saw a man carrying an indignant, asthmatic pig under his arm. Unfortunately, the man-made sound never equaled the purity of the sound achieved by the pig.”
     >Take Six<
     If receiving this newsletter is as welcome as inviting Dustin Dubrie into your home, click here to cancel.
     On the other hand, if you spied this newsletter on Laura Norder, (or any long-running television series), and you wish to subscribe, click here.
     (Dustin Dubrie, Laura Norder, pronounce them aloud.)
     >Take Seven<
     My dear fiend, Bradley Peter Parker, the same artist who illustrated the label for my upcoming game and the Tarot cards as well, decided that instead of concentrating on his imminent move from California to Hawaii he’d set himself down and dash me off the featured illustration above. Monstrous thanks!
     Also, Steven Wright just realized, “If Dracula can’t see his reflection in the mirror, how come his hair is always so neatly combed?”
     >Cut<
     >Print<

a preview from The Fool and his Money

     Having won six gold coins from a cardsharp named Ed Vice in a game of Imperial Tarot, the Fool enters the Kingdom of the Swords and is detained, the soldiers citing the prophecy “Swords, beware the Coin.”
     To prove that he is not a spy from the Kingdom of the Pentacles, the Fool agrees to relinquish the coins in a manner prescribed by the guards. The task seems straightforward. Rotate two coins, and if the images on the back sides are a match, the coins are confiscated. What the Fool soon discovers, however, is that the coins are bewitched and behind the six coins lurk sixteen separate images that meander unseen from coin to coin. You must hurry and help the Fool find the method in this magic!
     All this and more in the long-awaited, much debated, soon to be hated, The Fool and his Money, and yes, there’s still time to pre-order for the holidays and have your name, or the name of a loved one, immortalized inside the Compendium of True Believers featured inside the game.

     “You’re what?” asked the common or garden spook
     Of a stranger at midnight’s hour.
     And the shade replied with a graceful glide, “Why, I’m the ghost of a flower.”
     “The ghost of a flower?” said the old-time spook;
     “That’s a brand-new one on me;
     I never supposed a flower had a ghost, though I’ve seen the shade of a tree.”
     Cadaverous Juniper 

Sheer Cliff Face

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