Marcel St. Pierre | writer. producer. comedian. mammal.
Marjorie sighed. It was a slow night at the snack bar. “Not really a snack bar at all,” she thought. “Just a closet with one of those half-doors that opens up half-way.” She realized she hadn’t really described the door to herself correctly. Not that she needed a description for herself; she was sitting right … Read more
Spaghetti. A huge plate of beautiful, freshly cooked spaghetti sat below Repp and Julp as they balanced on a wooden beam, 12 feet above the floor of Mamma Linguini’s Ristorante. They’d snuck in through an open 2nd floor window, squeezed through loose floor-boards and quietly dropped through the ceiling to their perch. “You sure no … Read more
The daycare toddlers seemed to be innocently sitting in a rough semi-circle, playing with blocks, teddies or pacifiers. But nothing was further from the truth. “I’m telling you,” said Max, shaking his rattle. “Naptime is a lie! An illusion! The world keeps going when we’re napping!” “Heresy!” cried Harriet, retriggering her colic. “Then how do … Read more