A brick could be used to keep thieves away from your house. Just set a brick outside your front door, and you won’t need any additional security. Years will go by and nobody will steal the brick. And because the brick won’t get stolen, it’s proof that it deterred thieves from approaching your property.
A brick could be used to test my new levitation machine. Still, I’d rather test the machine out by seeing if it can lift my heavy, elephantine penis off the floor. But before I turn the machine on, I’m going to ask you to stand at least ten feet back, because I wouldn’t want to accidentally impregnate you.
It was more like a movie. Everyone was wearing black, gray, or white except for her. She was in a red dress, and like a herd of bulls, the crowd was angry and made charges against her. Thankfully I was there to come to her defense, like a matador. You should have seen how ridiculous—and ridiculously good looking—I looked.
A brick is like fruitcake. You don’t want to use it up all at once, and in fact, you don’t want to use it up at all. Well, if you won’t use it, then give it to someone who will. Every other Christmas I get the gift of fruitcake—and I think it’s the same loaf that I gave to that person the year before.
On the other side of St John’s house is a fake egg timer who can’t maintain an erection. He shares the property with a glossy beef burger called Tom, who has been painted by a seven year old magistrate in order to be entered for this year’s Miss East Lancashire competition. Next door to them is a Dundee cake with a lisp.
A brick could be used to ascertain the truth. And then logically, a non-brick could be used to detect the lie. What kind of things are non-bricks? Well, anything from blankets to lies. So therefore, a lie could be used to detect a lie, and all this logic makes me want to grab a blanket and lie down—and that’s the truth.
A brick could be used to help defeat all incumbent politicians whose last name starts with Brj and anything after that alphabetically. Since people tend to vote for the first one on the ballot, Brick would not only benefit from the stupidity of the citizenry, but the people would benefit by electing the smarter of the two candidates.
A brick could be used to foretell the future. But I’m the only one alive who knows how to make it work, and my occult knowledge can be rented out to you for $9.99 per minute. Call now, as supplies are limited. (Technically there’s only one future, but there are also as many futures as there are people willing to pay for it.)
A brick could be used to show how patient you are. Somewhere between one brick and a million bricks lies a home. For me, my home is one brick, and I carry it with me wherever I go, because I’m always on the move. Maybe one day, when I’m a wealthy man, I’ll get a second brick and walk around with my mansion in my hands.
A blanket could be used to find the Brick of Truth. Many lies will be layered on the Brick of Truth to try to cover it up, but the blanket will cover up all the lies, thus covering up the cover up and thereby revealing the Brick of Truth. And don’t try to steal the covers, because the blanket will only provide warmth to the Brick of Truth.
A brick could be used to help you become an Olympic swimmer. Tie the brick around your legs and have a friend drop you off someplace, say the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and then simply swim back to shore. By the time you hit the beach, you’ll be able to swim faster than a shark. In fact, you’ll have to if you plan on making it home.
A brick could be used to attract a potential life partner. Yes indeed, and it’s how I met my ex wife. And the only reason she didn’t become my life partner was because I outlived our relationship, despite her numerous attempts to kill me. I’m 31 years old now, so thank God for modern science enabling me to achieve such longevity.
A brick could replace the eagle as the symbol for the United States of America. And why not? A brick just sort of sits there, expecting everything to be built around it; a brick crumbles, much like an empire; and a brick is nonthinking, just like America’s “leadership” in Washington DC—on both sides of the political spectrum.
A brick could be used to commit genocide on a small patch of grass, if you lay the brick down on the lawn and leave it there long enough. But I do not condone this monstrosity of lawntrocity. (Lawn + atrocity—clever, no? OK, no, it’s not so clever. To have any lawngevity as a writer, I’ve got to avoid making clunky, brick-like puns.)
A brick could be used as the perfect response in one particular situation. Next time someone says, “I love you,” say nothing. Just grab a brick, cradle it with both hands like a kitten, and hold it out to the other person. Whether you want the other person to leave, or whether you want them to stay, the response works flawlessly every time.
