Good evening, internet audience. My name is Nick Hilbourn and, yes, I am a father and a competent authority on parental advice. It came to my realization around 2:34 am this morning that children ask many, many questions. They are curious beings. As parents we should usually encourage these questions, although we should discourage stupid questions.

I know what you’re thinking: hey, Stephen, you’ve been with your girlfriend for about seven months now, and even though you talk about her all the time, I bet the sex is starting to cool off. Sure, I’ve heard that old cliché about relationships—the beginning is steamy and adventurous, then settles into routine. So I can imagine why you’d think that about me and Kristi.

This city disgusts me. I crouch up here on the corner of a building, looking down at these streets below me and all I can think about is the cesspool that this town has become. I can only imagine the community swimming in cess, with a cess lifeguard yelling at the cess kids to stop running, lest they slip on cess, just replace the community with murder, the life guard with corruption, and the kids with robbery or something. That’s what I see in this town.

Chad Faustus: Hey there! Thanks for coming in! Would you like any water or coffee or anything? Free trade organic! Our barista will make it any way you wish!

Lucifer: Teas richer than those of the ancient Five Emperors can fill your cup for all your days, and I can do greater things than these…

Bartholomew Xander Wohlblätter III threw open the door to Indiana Scones and the Raiders of the Lost Latte with significantly more effort than was required. The little bell that hung from the entryway rang madly from the effort, like there was a tiny hunchback sitting on top of the door and just going absolutely nuts on it. Everyone in the coffee shop turned to watch the visibly frustrated man enter.