Matamata

When you are insufferably proud of your ability to grow a bit of facial hair*.

* or pigment**

** or protuberances

Originally posted at stories.starmind.org.

Meerkat performing Doctor Faustus

What art thou, Faustus, but a man condemn’d to die?

Thy fatal time doth draw to final end;

Despair doth drive distrust into my thoughts:

Confound these passions with a quiet sleep:

Tush, Christ did call the thief upon the Cross;

Then rest thee, Faustus, quiet in conceit.

Originally posted at stories.starmind.org.