Week 709: A Return Engagement

The point of his argument came across about as clearly as the white subtitles in "The March of the Penguins." (Sue Lin Chong, Baltimore)

The truth was slippery, like a lake trout used as a ping-pong paddle. (W.H. Welsh IV)

She was as thin as Ann Coulter after a bile-ectomy. (Jeff Brechlin, Eagan, Minn.)

She was as controlling as the software that blocks DoctorDentons.com because "Access to lingerie Web sites is forbidden." (John Kupiec, Fairfax)

When the bomb fell on that freight train in the war zone, it sounded just like a tornado. (Ira Allen, Bethesda; Stephen Dudzik, Olney)

There was something about him that just screamed money, as if he'd trained a myna bird to fly around him shouting "money." (Russell Beland)

Her eyes were like twin cyclopses. (Jonathan Paul, Garrett Park)

Watching forlornly as his prom date danced with another guy, Jake realized that in the game of love, he was as pathetic as a n00b who's been pwn3d for the first time. (Beth Baniszewski, Somerville, Mass.)

His mustache looked like a fuzzy caterpillar seeking shade under a big nose. (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge)

Looking for the right Google entry to plagiarize is like trying to find June 16 on one of those flipping calendars in old B movies. (Ira Allen)

Her chest was flatter than the "t" on a used-up tube of Crest. (Mel Loftus, Holmen, Wis.)

Seeing this guy, it was like I was looking in the mirror, except he was three-dimensional and didn't wear his wedding ring on his right hand. (Russell Beland)