Nobody believed him, of course, but when Andy Ammondin received a mineral collecting kit for his eighth birthday, he discovered he was able to speak to rocks. Lepidolite was quiet and slightly moody; cinnabar had an acerbic sense of humor; manganese always seemed like it was plotting something untoward. He was surprised to find that iron was actually quite tenderhearted and sensitive.

When the expedition plane bound for Mt Kilimanjaro instead crashed in the dense Tanzanian jungle, the lone survivor, Major Mitchell Risdall, wondered what use all of the mountaineering equipment would possibly be. Fortunately, it turns out snowshoes work just as well on quicksand.

An early pitch for a mid-1990s animated feature involved the antics of a wisecracking young scorpion and a gruff but kindhearted wolf spider working together as partners on the Archanopia police force to uncover a plot by rogue vinegaroons to kidnap Mayor Tarantula. It tested poorly, but was reworked into the script for Rush Hour with very few changes.

Research and/or verification in process for this curiosity - check back soon!

Oyster forks and butter knives, the provenance of rich mens’ wives with highborn airs; their gilded lives the butler’s dignity deprives. An arson plot the maid contrives; With stolen fortune they might thrive. The manor burns; nothing survives Save oyster forks and butter knives.

Research and/or verification in process for this curiosity - check back soon!

Michael Wichmen startled from fitful dreams, staring at the phosphorescent stars glued to his ceiling in strange configurations. He climbed from his bed, and walked to the small toy globe on his desk. His breath quickened as he ran his fingers over the raised surfaces of familiar shapes with names he could not remember. Where was Ionia? What of Greater Symkarita? When did Nordland shrink to the size of an island, and why was the mighty Kingdom of Congon broken into a score of small vassals? Where had he awakened after such strange visions of another Urthh?

The statue’s eyes would open when the full moon was highest, on the night of the equinox, and allow the person who met her gaze to ask any question at all.

The last piece of the authentic samurai armor set Randy Hume had spent 30 years reconstructing was under lock and key as part of a travelling exhibition, currently on display at the Minot, North Dakota Museum of History. Under his lock and key. Because he was the museum director. It pays to have a long game.

Hank Hurley ran the incinerator at the Biloxi County crematorium. He was never known for his attention to detail, so it was little wonder that the remains of customers’ loved ones were not always, shall we say, entirely unadulterated. The urn for Mary Fenneman’s dearly departed husband, for instance contained roughly 67% Archie, 16% leftovers of Douglas Wicker, 7% tree stumps Hank burned as a side hustle, 2% Twinkie wrappers, and one unfortunate family of opossums that had taken up residence in the furnace while Hank was on a fishing trip over the last long weekend.