A few hours after I finished my latest novel, "The Last Day of the World," a strange woman appeared out of nowhere to offer me a job. She said that her name was Mrs. T., that she owned a company called the "Dangerous Books Club," and that if I worked for her, we would become famous. She seemed like an honest person, but it didn't seem quite right that a writer would hire someone else to write his novels, or even that a writer should be so successful that he could afford not only a house in the country but also a private jet.
Just when I opened my mouth to begin asking her these things, she said "stop right there."
"First, you have to know certain things. I know what you'll ask, and I understand your concerns, but you have to understand the following before I go on," she said.
Then she started rattling off a list of fifteen facts that went like this:
No science stuff, just vibes.
Don’t show up to court in pants if you’re a lady… and it’s 938.
A flood 86 years ago is still being paid for by PA residents.
A surgeon was treated for his cocaine addiction with morphine, and became addicted.
Pac Man was designed to run indefinitely, so not even the creators knew how it ended.
Marvel uses female heroes to sell romance novels.
A dam in China holds back so much water it affects the rotation of the Earth.
Lamborghini began as a tractor manufacturer that was fed up with bad Ferrari clutches.
Corona had their reputation tarnished when a rumor was spread about pee in their beer.
The first high five was documented in 977.
A fake Dutch reality show highlighted the lack of donor organs.
Texas let a serial killer go to commit more crimes, so they overhauled the justice system.
A pilot once shot his own plane down by flying into his bullets.
The Dynamite Tree grows exploding fruit.
A released bird taught other birds songs its owner used to play.