Coffee

Game Master: He points at you and says some words; and you feel a little sleepy, then nothing.
Eleven-Year-Old: I drank my coffee this morning.
Me: I thought elves didn’t drink coffee.
Eleven-Year-Old: Shut up! I’m trying to tell a good story.

Parkour

Eleven-Year-Old: Orc parkour! Yeah!

Life

Eleven-Year-Old: Falling asleep and burning to death is not usually life.

Contemporary

Brother: That would make such a bad contemporary mummy movie about that: The Mummies of Tara.

Syncretism

Me:  Digging up Tara to search for the Ark of the Covenant, man.  That’s some serious syncretism.

Canopic

Six-Year-Old: I made up new future game. It’s called, “Guess the organ.” You just have to guess the organ in the canopic jar.

Figs

Me: I found a box of moldy figs in my desk.

Mechanical

Six-Year-Old: There has never been a mechanical island in the history of the world.
Me: No, that’s right. There has never been a mechanical island.
Six-Year-Old: In the history of the world!

Pantheon

Me: I just got my dog’s ashes back from the crematory, and they came in a velvet bag that said, “Until we meet again at the rainbow bridge,” on it. What are they, Norse pantheon?

Trade

Friend: There is no organ trade in Palladium, unless you count alchemists’ shops.