the many adventures of bob
TRANSCRIPT
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The Many Adventures of Bob!
By: Timarz
(Also known as Tim and Marz Waggener)
1. The LawnBob looked out the side window of his car and tried to read a sign that said:
Warning!these blades of grass
are not blades of grass.They are my collection
of green tire-puncturing needles.Do not drive on this lawn.
Not being able to read the fine print, Bob drove onto the lawn to read the sign. His tires did not pop and the
owner of the house, believing Bob to have called his bluff, came out and shot Bob’s tires with blow darts.
“Well, shucks,” said Bob, “Now I can’t get outa here.”
The police arrived shortly and took Bob to the station.
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2. The Police StationBob arrived at the police station, kindly escorted by a
friendly policeman.
“Get over here,” the friendly policeman snarled, shoving
Bob into a small cell. “You can get out after you move your car off of the lawn.” With these final brutal words, the
friendly policeman slammed the door to the cell. Bob heard
the lock slide into place.
“Now how can I move my car from in here?” Bob
wondered. Then he remembered his remote-control device.
“This should work!” Bob exclaimed joyfully, and pressed a
few buttons.
3. The Lawn Again“I can’t believe what this guy did either,” Joe Blow was
telling his wife at the dinner table. “Drove onto my lawn,
jist tuh git on mah narves!” Joe Blow finished in his Huntin’
Joe voice. Sally laughed.
“Oh Joe,” she cooed, “I jist love yur Huntin’ Joe voice!”
“I know,” said Joe Blow, and suddenly Bob’s car drove
through the dining room! Joe Blow was none to pleased
about this development, but as the car was off the lawn, Bob
was released from jail.
4. The New Car “So,” the Salesman asked, “What kind of car did you
want?”
“Oh, nothing special, just one of those models that uses
a remote control.”
“Oh, those,” the Salesman said with some scorn. “Westopped making those since the were broken into and
steered by the remote...But, I believe I have just the car for
you.” The Salesman led Bob up to a black car, “We call
this the Batmobile.”
“I’ll take it. How much?”
The Salesman came in real close and whispered the
price in Bob’s ear.
“Yipes!” said Bob, “Why don’t you show me a cheaper
model?”
“Care for a game of marbles?” asked the Salesman,
stalling for time.
“No thanks,” replied Bob.
Bob ended up leaving in a Volkswagen.
5. The HoboBob threw the remote control on the garbage can. Later
it was retrieved by a hobo. He started fooling around with
the controls. But this is another story. Well, it’s not
another story. It’s just not in this chapter.
6. Joe’s Dining Room“So how are we going to get this car out? I’ve changed
the tires, but the brake is on and it won’t roll.” Commented
Joe to his dearly beloved.
Suddenly the car lurched backward, knocking over Joeand Sally. They crawled out of the way as the car drove
into the street and into a nearby lake.
“By George, I believe that thing is possessed,”
commented Sally.
“The name’s Joe, not George,” snapped Joe, “One
would think you’d have it right after all these years.”
Ignoring Joe’s last remark, Sally continued, “Well, I
thought he seemed a bit odd. He’s probably one of themevil types.”
“Probably,” countered Joe
“Isn’t that how the spirits left the pigs? By going into a
lake?”
“I believe it was the ocean.”“Whatever”
7. The Hobo AgainWell our friend the hobo was fairly bored, as hobos
sometimes are. After all, they don’t do much but jump on
trains and travel around the country. Although this may
seem fairly exciting, it gets old. Most things do. So this
hobo, whose name was Splinter (long story behind that one)
decided to make a friend. Fingering his new remote-
control, which had been found in a local trash can, he
decided to find its former owner. This owner would surely
be his friend, he reasoned, because he had the remotecontrol. Finding the owner was much easier than Splinter
thought it would be. The name Bob Baloney was etched
along the side of the control, in beautiful cursive letters. An
address followed, in plain block letters.“Now where am I going to find 1234 Smith Street?” the
hobo wondered, and looking around, noticed that the
garbage can he had just pulled the remote out of was
conveniently placed in the driveway of 1234 Smith Street!
“An omen,” said the hobo, and started rapping on the door.
8. Bob’s HouseBob was enjoying a peaceful evening, relaxing from his
recent jail-break. He was playing his favorite CD, entitled“Sailboat Journey,” which produced noises of the ocean. It
was actually a very stressful CD for Bob to listen to,
because of the massive creaking of the ship - Bob was
always frightened that the ship would crack in half and he
would drown, because he couldn’t swim worth a lick. Sunk
like lead, did Bob. So, as Bob was stressfuly relaxing, theresuddenly came a fierce knocking on his door! This was not
expected on a peacefully stressing evening, and Bob, being
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quite carried away in the music of his CD, fancied that it
was the first splintering of the ship, right down its belly.
Bob was quite frightened.
“No!!” screamed Bob, “No! I can’t swim!” He jumped
up out of his relaxing chair and ran about frantically,
searching for a life vest. The hobo, who was indeed
knocking on Bob’s door at 1234 Smith Street, only knockedharder. This caused Bob added stress. “Help!!!” screamed
Bob, and suddenly noticed the telephone. “Good thing
they’ve got a telephone on this ship,” he muttered, and
quickly dialed 911.
“Is this an emergency?” questioned a lady on the other
end of the phone.
“Yes, please, I’m sinking and don’t have a life vest!”
Bob cried frantically.
“Address,” said the lady at the other end, sounding very
un-concerned for Bob’s welfare.
“1234 Smith Street,” Bob gasped.
“We’ll be right over,” she said and hung up.
9. The Police Station Again“Listen mister,” growled the friendly policeman, “this is
the second time I’ve had to deal with you.”
But due to the fact that the policeman was growling, it
sounded something like, “Griffin Blister...mummer
murmur... eel like you!”
“So!” said the policeman, now speaking in a normal
tone of voice, “We won’t have ANY MORE TROUBLE
from you, now will we??!”
“I’m not an eel!” mumbled Bob.
“Say what?”
“I’m not an eel!” said Bob
“That’s just what I thought,” said the policeman,“another crazy man! Get in the jail cell!”
10. The Jail Cell“Hi there, my names Griffen, what’s yours?” asked
Bob’s cell mate.
“Hmm. Officer mentioned you. I’m Bob Baloney.
Retired fisherman.” Bob was not actually a fisherman, but
since his boat had broken he decided he was retired.
“That’s what got me in here, my boat was sinking and I
called 911.”
“Ah, you have a cellular?” asked Griffen.
“Nope. Plain old cord.”“Uh huh. What did the officer say about me?”
“Said you were a regular blister.”
“Sounds a lot like him.”
Bob took out some cards and started to play solitaire.
“Hey, mind if I play?” asked the cell mate.
Bob suddenly had a strong feeling that he was
experiencing something of a past life. What should he say?
“Sure. When I say hit me, you give me the next card in
the pile.”
“Okay.”
“Hit me!-Ouch!”
“Oops, sorry, instinct. Here you go.”
“Thanks, so what are you - hit me- in for?”
“Oh first degree murder or maybe it was third. Oh well,
whichever one it was that was worse.”
“Who’d ya kill? - Hit me.”“His name was Fred and I didn’t kill anybody. I just
told him to get me some marmalade. I was-”
“Hit me”
“I was framed. He goes to get me the marmalade see
and then I hear this loud crashing sound. Well I-”
“Hit me”
“I run into the kitchen and there it is all over the floor!”
“Hit me. Fred?”
“No the marmalade. Well, I was pretty mad so I socked
him in the jaw. Then this guy comes in with a shotgun and
he-”
“Hit me”
“Will you stop saying that?”“All right.” Bob stopped playing solitaire.
“Anyway, this guy with a shotgun comes in and he
pumps Fred full o’ lead. Then while I stand there staring athim he wipes the gun clean and puts it in my trembling
hands. Turns out he had used my shotgun too. It falls to the
floor and he walks out the back door.”
“The marmalade again?”
“No the shotgun.”
“Hmm. I’m sure the jury will understand. Hit me.”
11. Joe’s Dining Room Again“Oh, Joe,” cooed Sally, “What are we going to do about
this big hole in the wall?”“Well, it does give us a lovely view of the lake,”
commented Joe Blow. Sally agreed.
“Yes, I agree,” said Sally, “but when it’s raining like it
is now, it gets the carpet wet.” Joe looked at the soggy
carpet.“True, true,” he mused. “Snow would be lovely,
however. I do ever so love snow - it’s so white and fluffy,
like a clean down blanket -”
“And cold, unlike a clean down blanket,” Sally
interrupted.
“Ah, yes,” Joe said, remembering, “It would cost a bit to
keep the heat going, now wouldn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Sally dryly.“But it’s so romantic, isn’t it?” Joe asked, his voice
filled with tender emotion.
“JOE! Get the stupid hole fixed!” Sally cried velmently,
much vexed by Joe’s improbability.
“I’ve got it!” Joe cried suddenly, a light bulb flashing
above his head.
“How do you do that?” Sally asked in wonder.
“Do what?”
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“Make that light bulb appear above your head.”
“Oh, the light bulb’s always there,” Joe explained, “but
it’s usually not on.”
“Oh,” said Sally, understanding. “What do you have?”
“What do I have?” Joe asked, confused. “I have lots of
things. Would you like a list?” Sally refrained herself from
slapping him soundly.“The idea,” said Sally dryly. “The light bulb idea you
had.”
“Light bulb?” asked Joe, now more confused. “Yes,
we’ve got plenty of light bulbs, there’s some extra in the
closet over there if one burned out...” Sally rudely turned
on her heels and walked out of the hole in the wall. “Hey,
it’s raining!” Joe called after her. “Don’t you want an
umbrella?”
12. The Hobo Yet AgainFinding that Splinter’s new friend had abandoned his
house, Splinter decided to move in.
“What a boring and disgusting home,” mused Splinter.“I’ll have to personalize it a little bit.” Splinter went to the
kitchen, looking for food. He found a can of Alphabet
Soup, but, not knowing how to use Bob’s hi-tech stove,
cooked the soup over a fire which he started in the living
room in a cardboard box. Our friend the hobo did not
normally cook food over a fire in the middle of the living
room, but today he did because it was raining outside.
13. Joe’s Dining Room“Sally, wait!” Joe cried. “Don’t leave!”
14. The Hobo Yet Another Time (getused to him, he’s here to stay)
Splinter finished the can of alphabet soup and went and
opened all the windows. The smoke was really starting to
get to him. He watched a fire truck park outside. He went
and put out the fire with a bucket of water.
15. News Time in JailBob was watching the news with all the other jailed ones
when he saw his house on TV.
“That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, this house almost
burned down today but a hobo off the street saved it by
pouring a bucket full of water on the fire before the entirehouse caught on fire.”
Wow, thought Bob, that sure was a nice thing for him to
do. I’ll have to thank him when I get out of here.
16. The Hobo Another Time StillWell, our friend Splinter, although he had a new house
(he had never had a house before), was still bored. To
relieve this boredom that was not relieved in the alphabet
soup, he decided to write some poetry.
A Childhood Memory in the Form of SestinaThe room is a mess.
To get through it, I’ll need a compass.Yet I must find my English notes.
Find them indeed! My very lifedepends on it, but who could guess
where they’re buried in this junk?
Angry. I abhor the junk covering the floor, making a mess.
I am mad. How could I guessI’d need English? I sling the compass
around my neck, wondering if my lifewill end because of those notes.
I flick on the radio. Harsh notes
fill my weary ear with junk.The song makes me think of life,
bordering disaster’s brink, O mess!
I need a direction, but my compasson the red cord won’t help, I guess.
But I take a wild guessand plunge into the mess, the notes
from English class not found by my compass
dangling from the red cord. All this junk
that I hoard! I survey the messwith an expert eye, it matches my life
and makes me want to cry; life
will be short, I reckon, I guess,if something doesn’t happen with this mess.
The radio, indifferent to my plight, blares rude notes
into the room, into the height of junk
that reaches the ceiling—and my compass
dangling from my neck, the compass
won’t help save my life.
Oh, heck. Who cares about the junk?Well— I do, I guess,
because I need the notes . . .
Boy am I in a mess.
This junk, it’s too much! I guess
the compass can’t save my life
depends on those notes! What a mess...
Splinter felt it was a very good poem. He wished to
display it, so he found some nails and a hammer in the basement and nailed a copy to the chandelier in the front
hallway. The chandelier had a few cracks in it when he was
finished, but Splinter felt that the loss was worth the gain.
The only problem was that he couldn’t read the poem when
it was dangling from the chandelier. Therefore, he made
several more copies and nailed them up all over the house:
to walls, windows, furniture, and Smuggles, the cat.
Smuggles was not to happy about Splinter’s poem, but this
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did not discourage Splinter in the least. Poets know better
than to listen to bad reviews.
17. Bob’s Return HomeBob returned home to find his chandelier cracked most
violently. “My chandelier!!!” exclaimed Bob.
“What are you doing in here?” asked Splinter.“I live here. What are you doing in here?” asked Bob.
“I was, um... just checking to see if there was a fire in
here again. I put out the last one, you know.”
“Oh, that was you! I saw that on the news. And thank
you!”
“You’re most certainly welcome.”
Bob pulled down the notice from the chandelier.
“What’s this?”“Oh, that’s just a poem I wro- I mean, saw here when I
came in.”
“Hmm. This looks like it could be worth millions. I’d
pay the author a lot of money for it.”
“I WROTE IT!” yelled Splinter, rather excited now.“I thought as much, but the point is, who nailed it up
here?”
“Er, some guy, who said his name was...” the only thing
going through Splinter’s mind was the Andy Griffith
episode he had just watched. It was his first experience
ever with TV. “Er...Griffith”
“Griffith?”
“No, ah, Griffen!”
“Ah-ha! I should have suspected as much. While he
was pretending to be in jail he was really wrecking my
house! I should go back to that cell and-”
“He ate your soup too. And he nailed it to your walls
and your windows and your cat and yo-”“My cat!!?”
“Well, he tried but the cat sorta snaked outa the way.”
“Seems he was really obsessed with this thing.”
“Yeah, he thought it was pretty good. How much are
you willing to pay for it.”“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
18. The Hobo in His FurySplinter slammed out of Bob’s house, knocking down
the photograph of Bob’s mother in this act. This did notmake Bob very happy, but he was glad to be rid of the hobo.
This was due to the fact that Bob was planning a ruthless
exploit of the hobo’s literary talent. Yes, that’s right. Bob
was going to sell Splinter’s poem as his own. Atnalta would
make a good pen name, thought Bob, Atnalta Aigroeg.
That way the initials of Bob’s new pen name would be AA,
which was almost AAA, as in Triple A, which Bob thought
was very cool indeed. In fact, Bob reasoned, if he could
think of a middle name that began in A he would have it
made - something like Acirema, yes Acirema would be
beautiful. Atnalta Acirema Aigroeg was beautiful indeed.
“At-nalt-uh Auh-kire-mah Aie-grow-eig!” Bob
exclaimed, and due to the broken windows which was due
to the poems that Splinter had nailed onto them, his voice
carried across the barren land. Splinter, who was still
traversing in a direction directly opposing Bob’s house(although there were infinitely many such directions,
Splinter had chosen one that lead to a railroad track, in
hopes of catching a train), heard Bob’s sudden out burst.
“Anala Uhkiremuh Egroweeg? What kind of Greek is
that?” Splinter wondered, and wrote it down in his literary
notebook, which he had borrowed from Bob in his recent
visit for the purpose of writing down flashes of insight as
they struck him. Splinter had yet to be struck by a flash of
insight, but he knew one day it would happen. As Splinter’s
fury had cooled, our chapter is now over.
19. Bob’s Ruthless Exploit“Wa, ha, ha, ha, ha!” laughed Bob, a ruthless tinge
edging his evil laugh. “Wa, ha, ha, ha, ha!” he continued,
with more velocity. Having spent himself on evil laughs, he
plopped into a chair, only to discover to his horror that it
was wet!
“The horror! The horror!” cried Bob, and expired.
“Drat,” Bob muttered, “I hate it when my expiration date
runs out. Now I have to get renewed.” Bob took a quick
trip to the library.
20. Bob at the LibraryBob entered the library. A dank, heavy odor found its
way into his nostrils. He was oppressed with the crushingfeeling that he had entered the very heart of darkness.
“Hello, I would like to be renewed,” said Bob Baloney to a
savage-looking librarian. The librarian had a piece of bone
pierced through her nose, and was scantily clad in oddlycolored animal skins. Could it be - a female, Bob thought, a
symbol of truth and wisdom -
“I’m sorry,” said the clerk, “but I believe I didn’t hear
your correctly. Could you repeat that?”
“I would like to be renewed,” said Bob.
“Just a moment, please.” The library clerk with the
bone through her nose picked up the phone receiver and
dialed a number. Bob casually glanced around the dimly lit
library, debating over whether the torches that gave it afeeble light were a fire hazard or not. In the middle of the
library, he noticed three posts, adorned with wooden knobs
at the top. It seemed a strange decoration for a library.
“Yes, that’s right. Yes, another one of them. Uh-huh.
Yes, I’ll hold.”
Bob cleared his throat casually. His eyes were slowly
becoming adjusted to the dim light. He looked at the posts
more carefully. Discretely he pulled out a spy telescope he
always carried in his front shirt pocket. The spy telescope
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was disguised to look like a pen. He lifted it to his eye and
squinted at the posts. As they came into focus, Bob’s head
jerked back in automatic reaction. But he was not horrified
by what he saw, only mildly surprised. Putting the spyglass
to his eye again, the knobs on the posts jumped back into
his vision, and he saw that they were not knobs at all, but
heads — meek human heads of dark hair and empty eyes. Now he knew where he was - he had entered the savage
untamable darkness, filled with mystery and wonder - Bob
vaguely hoped that they would get the power back soon.
“Yes, I can wait.” The clerk hung up and turned to Bob.
“Your police escort will be here shortly,” she said. She had
noticed his reactions to the heads, and smiled
apologetically. “It’s Curts, you see,” she explained, “I tried
to get him to stop, but - he’s enlarged my mind, don’t you
see! He’s a genius! You should hear him speak!” Bob did
not wait to hear him speak. He left the library and waited
for his police escort outside.
21. The Officer “You again, huh? Get in the car.” Bob got in the back
of the car.
“Say, what’s your name?” Bob asked in what he hoped
was a friendly manner.
“Joe.” A pause, not a friendly one. After taking a hint
from Bob’s inquisitive stare, Joe barked, “Joe Conrad.”
“I’m Bob Baloney.”
“Can’t tell you how thrilled I am to meet you again.”
“Why not?”
“Shut up will you?”
22. SallySally walked out onto the street infuriated. Why did her
husband have to be so dumb? Why wouldn’t he fix the
hole? Why was that car honking its horn?
“Get outa the street lady!” someone screamed.Wet, exhausted, soaked, and tired Sally broke down and
began to cry.
“Are you okay lady?” asked the driver.
Sally cried longer.
The driver got out of his car and stood next to her.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, everything.”
Joe Blow, seeing someone standing next to his wife who
had just gotten out of his car deduced that the man standingnext to his wife was a homicidal maniac. He ran to get his
blowgun.
23. Joe Blow ReturnsBy the time Joe Blow returned with his blowgun, the
homicidal maniac had left. “Drat,” muttered Joe Blow.Sally noticed him.
“Joe!” Sally exclaimed, alarmed. “You know better
than to walk around the streets with your blowgun!”
“Yes, I know,” said Joe, feeling ashamed. He looked at
Sally. She looked wet. “You look wet,” he commented.
“Observant, aren’t we?” she muttered.
“Why, yes,” said Joe, feeling intelligent. “Would you
like a raincoat?”“Sure,” said Sally. Joe took off his raincoat and handed
it to her. Sally put it on. Joe got wet. The sweet end. Well
not really. There’s still a few more chapters.
24. The Ruthless Return of the ZoloftThe Zoloft rose out of the sea and started to devour
cities. “munch munch munch” went the Zoloft. Slosh slosh
slosh, went the Zoloft.“Isn’t this a great movie, hon?” said Joe Blow.
“Shhh!” said Sally Blow.
“Isn’t this a great movie, hon?” said Joe Conrad.
“Shhh!” said Samantha Conrad.
The monster went back into the sea, not to return for several days. The announcer’s voice rang through the air,
“The Zoloft would not come back for several days, and
that’s when part twelve starts. And this time, he will not be
ruthless.” The lights came back on.
On the way out Joe Blow bumped into Joe Conrad.
“Hey Joe, how’s it goin’?” asked Joe Blow.
“Pretty good. What do you suppose the announcer
meant by not being ruthless?” asked Joe Conrad.
“Didn’t you see part eight? The Zoloft has a wife
named Ruth.”
“Oh, of course.”
“We’d better be going dear,” said Samantha.
“Just a moment, dear. Joe, did you know that I’ve jailedthat guy who drove his car on your lawn three times now?”
asked Joe Conrad.
“Really? Is he still in jail?” asked Joe Blow.
“Yes,” said Joe Conrad.
“I believe I will visit him,” said Joe Blow.
25. Joe at JailJoe Conrad was glaring at Bob, who was still behind
bars.
“Expire, will ya?” snarled Joe Conrad in a friendly
manner. “Yeah, we’ll show you to expire...” Just then our
hero (not really our hero, because Bob is really our hero)walked into the police station. Conrad left Bob — for the
time being at least — to tend to this new fiend.
“You’ve got a visitor,” said Joe Conrad to Bob. “His
name’s Joe Blow. Do you want to see him?”
“Why not? It’s boring enough in this jail cell.”
Joe Conrad led Bob Baloney to a Plexiglas booth. On
both sides was a phone. Bob picked up the receiver. “Yo,
Joe?”
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“Yo, Bob. What be it! I was chillin’ with my boys in da
hood da other day when ya drove on my lawn. You showin’
me no respect hea, and this ain’t tight.” Bob looked
confused by Joe Blow’s sudden outburst.
“I thought you were famous for your Huntin’ Joe voice,”
said Bob.
“Whall, shore I be famos fur mah Huntin’ Joe voice,”said Joe, suddenly on the defensive, “but I reckon a felluh
kin talk anyhows he likes!”
“Of course, of course,” said Bob, trying to ease the
situation, “you can talk anyhows you like.”
“Well, don ya be dissin’ me bout it, ya heah?”
“Whallo, corsico I ain’t o’ dissin yo,” Bob exclaimed,
making up a slang of his very own. “No-oh, I’d no disso
yo!”
“Yud best shut yer mouth thare, soney,” said Joe in a
low and dangerous Huntin’ Joe voice.
“Whateo yo be mean-o?” Bob asked, unflustered. “If O
shot mo mouthieo, O canno taco!” Joe’s face had slowly
metamorphasized into a glowing tight purple mass of anger, but Bob had failed to notice these danger signs. “Annieo yo
kamo hear toe hearmoe talko!” The livid purple mass,
tinged with green, that was unrecognizably Joe’s facesuddenly sprang into action. Or rather, Joe did. He hurled
his clenched fist straight into the Plexiglas! This was not a
smart move as his fist bounced off and he went sprawling
over backwards.
“I’ll show you, boy-oh!” Joe screamed in rage, still
recovering from his fall backwards. The purple had seeped
into a deep and dangerous red. Joe Conrad, the police
officer present, began to awake from a long sleep, in which
he was dreaming of a huge and monstrous Zoloft monster
smashing the Plexiglas at the police station.“Just a dream,” muttered Joe Conrad, and went back to
sleep.
Bob recoiled in horror and started screaming, “Helpo
moe. He’s killo moe gonno.”
Joe Conrad awoke. “JB! Whatcha’ think yer a doin’?”
Joe Blow continued to pound on the glass until Conrad
escorted him from the building in a friendly manner.
26. The Hobo Finds a Hobby“I need a hobby,” said Splinter the Hobo to his friend
Blister.
“Ah,” said Blister.
“A good hobby,” said Splinter, “one that could make memoney.”
“Ah,” said Blister. “No doubt there’s lots of those
around.”
“No doubt,” said Splinter, “but I just can’t think of any
of them.” Splinter stopped to think. “Hmmm...” said
Splinter in his musings. He pulled out his literary notebook.
“Brainstorming helps sometimes,” he explained to his friend
Blister.
“Ah,” said Blister, “no doubt that’s true.”
Brainstorming , wrote Splinter at the top of the page. A
hobby.
“You could learn to play the harmonica,” Blister
suggested.
Harmonica, wrote Splinter at the start of his list, and
replied to Blister, “How will playing the harmonica get memoney?”
“Well,” said Blister, musing over this, “If you got real
good, you could put your hat out up-side down, like so” —
Blister demonstrated— “and people will play coin toss.”
“Coin toss,” said Splinter. “Hmmm.” More thinking.
“I’ve got it!” cried Splinter, suddenly struck by a flash of
insight. The flash of insight quite knocked Splinter off his
feet. Blister was quite startled.
“What! What!” cried Blister. “Are you okay?”
“Sha, ‘s nothing,” Splinter said calmly, brushing the
incident aside.
“What was that?” Blister asked in awe.
“Aw, I was just struck by a flash of insight!”“A flash of insight? What sort of insight?”
“I could get a pickle jar!” exclaimed Splinter with great
joy. He quickly took up his pen, and with great excitement,wrote pickle jar on his brainstorming page.
“That would be a fabulous hobby,” exclaimed Blister,
who still did not fully understand Splinter’s flash of insight.
“I even know where you could get a pickle jar.”
“Where?”
“Follow me,” said Blister, and the two hobos jumped off
the train together.
27. The Police Station Again“I say,” said Bob to Conrad, in an intelligent Sherlock
Holmes type voice, “now that my forty-eight hours are up,
don’t you have to tell me what I’m in jail for?” Conrad
frowned at him angrily.
“Fur breakin’ the Plexiglas,” the friendly policeman
barked.“But!” said Bob, still in his intelligent and deductive
voice, “I indeed did not break the Plexiglas. Joe Blow, my
kind and faithful visitor, broke the Plexiglas.”
“Sure, sure, like I’m gonna believe that,” snarled the
friendly policeman. “Next thing you know you’ll be tellin’
me that the Zoloft monster broke it.” The friendly
policeman paused to reflect. “Wait a second,” he mused, “if
I recall correctly, the Zoloft monster did break thePlexiglas...” Still stumped in thought, Joe Conrad unlocked
Bob’s cell.
“Thank you, thank you,” said Bob, and left. Joe
Conrad, realizing the danger of the situation, picked up the
phone to call the police.
“Hello, I need the police,” said Joe.
“Yes, what’s wrong?”
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“The Zoloft monster is loose. He broke the Plexiglas.
We’ve got to get him!”
“The Zoloft monster, eh? I say, is this Conrad? Joe, if
it’s you playing one of your dumb jokes and tying up the
phone lines you can bet you won’t be back here tomorrow
—” Joe quickly hung up the phone, suddenly remembering
that he was the police and he would have to get the Zoloftmonster himself. He raced out to his police car, and with a
single deft movement, flicked on the lights and the alarm
and tore out of the station.
28. The Pickle Jar “Now where am I going to get a pickle jar?” wondered
Splinter aloud.
“Maybe there’s one in the store,” suggested Blister.“Indeed.”
Splinter walked into the store, selected the largest jar of
pickles, mumbled to himself, “They won’t mind if I borrow
this,” and emptied it onto the counter and left with the
pickle jar.The train hadn’t gone far, and soon Splinter was in the
jail cell that Bob was previously in.
Finding himself bored, he searched the cell and found a
sheet of paper. It read:Atnalta Acirema Aigroeg shall be my name
and I shall publish the poem written by thehobo that invaded my house.
After a quick comparison in his literary notebook,
Splinter figured he had the whole thing figured out.
29. Conrad and the ZoloftJoe Conrad sped down Main Street, in frantic search for
the Zoloft monster. “He couldn’t have gotten far,” mused
Conrad. “After all he was at the station fifteen minutes
ago.” But then he got to thinking about the ruthless nature
of the Zoloft. No doubt a huge creature like that could
move pretty fast. Perhaps faster than Conrad’s car. Conradglanced at the speedometer. It went up to 120. A Zoloft
monster was big. But this Zoloft monster fit in the police
station. Conrad continued to barrel on down the road,
unaware that several other police cars, also with lights and
sirens running, were giving chase behind him.
30. The Hobo’s Plan
Splinter knew he would need a plan, and a very goodone, to overthrow Atnalta Acirema Aigroeg’s evil plan.
Once he had overthrown Atnalta, he would be famous once
again, a hero, this time for saving the world! He would stop
“Atnalta,” whom he recognized as the head of the Mafia,
because he knew their code. He knew “publish” really
meant “distribute” and “poem” really meant “bomb.” But
Splinter wasn’t sure about the “hobo” part.
“I don’t know any hobos, do I?” Splinter asked himself.
“Say there, Griffen, do you know any hobos?”
“Shore I do,” said Griffen good naturedely. “I once
knew a hobo named Bob. He was in here just the other day
but left when the Zoloft monster got loose.” Griffen
thought it was a big joke about the Zoloft monster. Splinter
nodded in what he hoped was a heroic manner.“I suppose this Bob fellow also wrote this note,” said
Splinter, showing Griffen the note in such a way so as he
could not read it.
“I reckon so,” said Griffen. Splinter once again returned
Griffen’s comment with a nod.
“Mafia leader was arrested but escaped,” Splinter mused
under his breath. “Somehow this Mafia leader, who’s name
is Bob, is also a hobo and is building a bomb to distribute...
and he’s going to invade a house - no wait house is a code
word too - it means “The White House.” Ohh, this could be
bad.”
“What’s that?” said Griffen.
“Nothing!” said Splinter a bit too forcefully. Griffen, being quite a tender lad, took personal offense to this and
smacked Splinter right good. Griffen was soon to learn that
Splinter wasn’t named Splinter for nothing. Splinter took out a handy-dandy piece of old wood out of his back pocket
and ran it across Griffen’s back.
“Ow!” Griffen cried out in pain. “Splinters!” Splinter
gave him an evil grin.
“Splinters from the biggest Splinter of them all,” he
snided. “That’s why you don’t mess with Splinter.”
Splinter then put to practice an old trick he had learned
from Otis on the “Andy Griffith” show. He stretched his
arm through the bars, took the key off the hook, and
unlocked himself, being sure to lock the door and put thekey well out of Griffen’s reach.
31. Griffen’s Escape“Now, why didn’t I think of that?” Griffen muttered.
“Probably because I didn’t want to be arrested for escaping from prison,” he replied.
“But still,” he said picking up the piece of wood and
removing the keys, “I can always be a fugitive on the run!”
“Hey, what’re you a doin’??!”
“Er,” Griffen stuttered, “Looke thar!”
“Huh?” muttered the officer as he looked over his
shoulder.
Griffen bolted out of the jail cell.
32. The VetAnd thusforth did Bob decidest to take his cat to the vet
thereof.
And the vet speakest forth and sayeth, “Hast thou been
puncturing thine cat.”
And the words of love and limb flowed forth from Bob’s
mouth as he spokest, “No, sir. ‘Twas that blasted hobo.”
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And quite surprised by Bob’s flowery language of grace
he repliethed, “‘Twas? Blasted?”
“Tis a flowery chapter,” was Bob’s response of agility.
“Ahh,” speakest the vet.
33. The White HouseSplinter saw a green house. Then a blue one. Then a
dead mouse colored one. Then he saw it, the white house.
But was it the white house? Or just a white house? How
did one tell, he mused. He decided to check it out.
34. The White House (continued)Splinter heroically rang the doorbell to the white house
on Smith Street. A very haggard and cat-clawed man
opened the door.
“Oh you again!” the man snarled, and slammed the door
shut. Splinter did not take this as a positive sign. He went
to a neighbor’s house and rang the doorbell.
“Yes?” asked the lady who opened the door. She was
wearing a space alien costume.
“Um..” said Splinter, a bit unsure of himself. “I was
wondering...”
“Yes?” asked the space alien politely. “Wondering
what?”
“I was wondering, the white house next door to you...
that is the white house, is it not?”
“Of course it is,” the space alien snapped. “Why do you
think it’s white?” She rudely slammed the door in
Splinter’s face. Sounds of laughter and clinking glasses
filtered out from her house to Splinter’s ears. Suddenly the
space alien re-opened the door. “Oh I’m sorry,” she
laughed, “You’re here for the party! Come on in.” Sheushered Splinter into the house. “That’s a great hobo
costume you’ve got there,” she added, and floated off into
another room. Splinter followed. He was greeted with a
horrifying sight. The room was filled with strangecreatures! Monsters, dinosaurs, clowns, anything and
everything possible were laughing and talking. A giraffe
came up to him.
“Hey have a drink!” the giraffe exclaimed. “I’ll pour
you some punch.” Splinter accepted the glass of fruit punch
from the giraffe.
“Well,” said Splinter to the giraffe, “this is the first time
a giraffe has giving me anything to drink!” The giraffe let
out a huge laugh. The laugh was catching, and soon all thestrange creatures were rolling on the floor in their mirth.
“This is too strange for me,” said Splinter, and left.
35. The Camera“It’s that time again,” Bob said into the mike.
“What time is that?” the kids in the voice box allechoed.
“Time for me to go to the bank,” said Bob as he shut the
box off.
“This really may not make a great show,” he mumbled
to himself as he shut off the camera, “but a businessman has
to take his chances. This will be, after all, a greatly
educational experience for those kids who watch this film.”
36. The Bank Robbers“So,” said the first bank robber, “Why are we robing
this bank instead of the other bank that doesn’t have the
alarm system installed?”
“Because, dummy,” said the second bank robber “-and
for the fifth time- this bank doesn’t have any video cameras
installed and wearing Ski-masks will attract attention.”
37. The Bank “So, sir,” said Bob, “what are you doing at the bank?”
“I’m getting this check cashed.”
Bob walked with the gentleman up to the front where he
cashed his check.
“And that kids is how it’s done.” Bob clicked a button
on the voice box.
“Ohhhh,” coursed the kids in the voice box.
“And, sir,” said Bob, “what are you doing here?”
“Why, are you taking a survey?” snapped bank robber
number one.
“Er, no, I was just, ah, wondering.”
The bank robber aimed the gun at the clerk and said,
“Push the alarm button and I’ll blow yer head off. Now
gimme all yer money.”
38. Conrad vs. ZoloftAs he sped down Smith street, a calm residential area,
Conrad heard a strange sound coming from a toupe-colored
house. It was the sound of hysterical laughing, but as
Conrad’s siren was quite blasting his eardrum away, it
sounded like a fantastic roaring.
“The Zoloft monster!” Conrad cried aloud, for it was
quite too loud for him to hear himself think. Quickly, he
slammed on the brakes and jumped out of his police car,
leaving it running. He ran to the front door and rang the
doorbell.
“On second thought, I may not want to meet this Zoloft
face to face,” mused Conrad. “I’ll sneak up on him, yes,
that’s what I’ll do.” Quickly Conrad dashed around to the back of the house, and ran smack-dab into a hobo!
“Hey don’t I know you?” Splinter asked. Conrad
ignored him and ran on. “Good thing he didn’t notice who I
was,” Splinter said to himself.
A space alien opened the front door. Her eyes opened
wide at the sight of the police car in her front lawn, withlights and siren running full blast. As she watched, several
more police cars pulled up.
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“Cops!” she screamed. “The cops are here!”
Conrad had reached a window. He looked inside. A
horrifying sight met his eyes. The room was filled with
strange creatures! And among them, trying to blend in with
the animals and clowns and superheros and ghouls was the
Zoloft!
Meanwhile the space alien had returned to the room.“Cops!” she yelled at the strange creatures. “The cops
are here!”
Conrad broke into the room and arrested the Zoloft
monster. “You have the right to remain silent. Everything
you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.
You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an
attorney one will be provided for you.”
Then suddenly, Conrad remembered that the Zoloft
monster was just a dream!!!
“Heh, heh,” said Conrad. “Just kidding about that. Heh,
heh, pretty funny joke huh?” Conrad bolted out of the
room, forgetting to un-handcuff the Zoloft monster.
“Hey!” cried the Zoloft monster. “Let me go! Let mego!” The Zoloft monster’s frantic cries were heard by three
policemen who had just come in.
“What’s going on here?” asked the first policeman.“Which one of you arrested me?” cried the Zoloft
monster, quite outraged. “I won’t stand for this! I’ll have
you arrested!” The three police officers looked at each
other uncomfortably.
“Well it wasn’t me,” said the second policeman.
“Me either,” said the third.
“Or me,” said the first.
“One of you is lying,” snarled the Zoloft monster.
“Why don’t you join the party?” asked the space alien.
The three police officers smiled and nodded.“Yes, let’s,” they said, and joined the other strange
creatures in fruit punch. The Zoloft monster was still quite
angry, due to the fact that he was still in handcuffs, but the
Zoloft’s rage need not be discussed in this chapter.
39. DevelopmentGetting the film developed proved harder than it
seemed, as Bob was nearly run over by a car and chased for
three blocks away from the development room. When Bob
jogged back to his car, to find it gone, he went inside and
dropped off the film.
40. The New Car II“Okay, gimmie the Batmobile,” said Bob.
“Okay, gimmie the cash,” said the Salesperson.
But Bob did not have the cash.
“I’ll give you a check,” Bob snarled viciously.
“Fine,” snapped the Salesperson. He paused, then
asked, “Care for a game of marbles?”
“No,” said Bob angrily, because he really stunk at
marbles.
Bob drove off in his fancy Batmobile. “Let them try and
steal this one!” Bob cried with glee. Just then, he saw his
own Volkswagen spinning by. It crashed into a tree. “WA,
ha, ha, ha!” laughed Bob evily. “That’ll teach ‘em!” Bob
narrowly avoided getting into an accident himself, while
indulging in his mirth in thus said manner.
41. The Ruthfull Return of the Zoloft
Monster “Munch, munch, munch” said the Zoloft monster
“Munch, munch, munch,” said Ruth.
“Will you chew those peanuts with your mouth shut, please,” Bob hissed to Ruth who was next to him.
“Mff. Sowy,” she said with a mouthful of peanuts.
“Mmmm. Look at my mustache, Carl,” said Ruth to the
man next to him as she pulled her hair over her upper lip.
Carl turned and looked, but the hair had fallen.
“I don’t see nutin’,” said Carl.
The irony of the fact that Ruth was eating peanuts at this
time caused her to laugh out loud, spewing peanuts into
Bob’s lap.
“WA ha ha ha ha!” she laughed.
Someone in the crowd, encouraged by the laughter
called out, “Get ‘em Zoloft monster!”
The Zoloft Monster’s wife, Ruth, came in and spewed
water into Bob’s Laptop company.
Bob went home to change clothes.
42. Conrad Emerges, Undaunted, to
Continue Policing in an Undaunted
Manner Conrad slowly emerged into the police station. He was
undaunted by his little incident with the Zoloft monster.
After all, anyone could have made the same mistake.
“I am here to police!” Conrad announced to everyone
there, which at the time was nobody, as all the convicts had
escaped and all the police personnel were off chasing
Conrad and convicts. Conrad sauntered around for a few
minutes, policing, until he got tired and fell asleep.
43. Bob Goes to Work When Bob got dressed the next morning he wore his
favorite muscle showing shirt.
Bob went to work. He began the endless job of stapling papers. Bob stapled and stapled. Finally, because he was
sweating so bad, Bob decided to refresh his deodorant. Bob
reached for the stapler and held it up to his armpit.
Then Bob’s Boss, Gerlando, walked into the room.
“Bob, I wanted to talk to you about-”said Gerlando, then
he dropped his file on the floor and stared at Bob open
mouthed. “What are you doing?”
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Bob drove the Batmobile into his garage. Since his
garage was not connected to the house, he had to go in
using his front door. Upon entering the front door, Bob met
three people in ski masks and reflective sun glasses.
“Awfully hot day to be wearing a ski mask, isn’t it?”
asked Bob.
“Where’s the film?” asked the first one. Bobimmediately recognized this as a code from one of the
movies he was doing.
“Ha, ha, that’s a good one, Bubba!” said Bob laughing.
The three masked men looked at each other. One of the
pulled out a gun.
“All right, give us the film or we blow off your head,”
said the first.
Bob tried to recall what to do in a situation like this,
according to the safety books he read he was supposed to
say “Hello, I’m from Jupiter” in Spanish, but Bob didn’t
know Spanish. He decided to fake it.
“Olage fumma dola,” said Bob.
“What’s wrong with this guy?” whispered the secondman.
“I think he’s having a seizure,” said the first.
“Let’s see if he falls down, then we can take his keysand look for the film inside,” said the third.
They waited. Bob stared at them realizing that he did
not say “I’m from Jupiter,” but probably “let’s look at each
other for a long time.” He tried again.
“Lago feminah torpedonadafoomy.” said Bob.
“This is a pretty weird seizure,” whispered the third
man.
“I agree,” whispered the second. They both looked at
the first who shrugged.
Seeing that the other two were looking at the first, probably for confirmation, Bob looked at the first too.
“What’re you lookin’ at, buddy?” snarled the first.
“Why, er... the UFO reflecting in your glasses of
course,” said Bob.
“Nice try, but I don’t wear glasses,” sneered the first.
“You’re wearing reflective sunglasses, dummy,”
whispered the second.
All three looked for the UFO.
Bob grabbed the gun, and fired all five shots into the
sky.
“Uh oh,” said the third, “this guy could be tricky.”
The first and second agreed.
“Listen, buddy, we don’t want any trouble, we just wantthe film.”
The code again, but stated differently this time, what
could it mean? Bob decided to guess on the code that was
supposed to follow.
“Yeah, the milk is spilled,” said Bob.
The three slowly looked at each other, finally the first
said, “At least I’m not crying about it,” with a sneer.
Bob got a bit excited, he must have broken the code!
“The clock has hay wired in it,” he said.
“Must mean it’s bombed,” whispered the first.
“Which one?” asked the third.
“I dunno, it’s your code!” said Bob
“Uh oh, did we start another time bomb and forget about
it again?” asked the second.The three men in ski masks and sunglasses jumped off
Bob’s porch and ran over to their car, parked on the side of
the road, got in, and drove away.
Five bullets fell at Bob’s feet. Wow, he thought to
himself, that gun shoots pretty far! Oh yeah, the gun!
What should I do with it? Bob threw it in the trash can.
47. They Wanted the Film“We need the film,” said the first man.
“How do we get it?” asked the second.
“We tried it by taking advantage of our numbers-” said
the third.
“Maybe we need to do a break in!” exclaimed the first.“Yeah, I know a guy called Keymaster-” said the
second.
“Keymaster?!! What kind of cheesy name is that?”
asked the third.
“Ya don’t judge a book by its cover,” said the second.
“What does that hafta’ do with all this?” asked the first.
“It’s figurative. You don’t judge a guy by his name
either,” proclaimed the second.
48. Keymaster When Bob got home the next day he found someone
messing with the lock on his front door.“Hey,” said Bob in a friendly manner.
“Howdy,” replied the man messing with Bob’s lock,
“It’s just a matter of finding the right tumbler,” he
mumbled.“What brings you to my house?” asked Bob.
“Y-Your house?” asked the man hastily hiding the
devices in the lock behind his back. “I, I thought this was
my house! Yeah, my house.”
“Oh,” said Bob, “Maybe it is your house, I’ll have to go
check my map. Be right back.”
“Right,” said the man resuming his work the moment
Bob turned his back.
Bob emerged back again and said to the man, “Yep, It’smy house after all. I’m afraid you’ll have to move al-” only
to find that the man had left, leaving the door open.
Guess he left , thought Bob and went in his living room
to listen to his relaxing Sailboat Journey CD.
Meanwhile upstairs the Keymaster, as everyone called
him because he carried so many keys, had gone upstairs and
began pulling all Bob’s books off his bookcase in hopes of
finding a safe. Eventually he reached a metal book.
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“That’s odd,” said the Keymaster and tried to pull it out
only to be electrified and fall thump on the floor.
THUMP!
Bob worried that his boat had bumped into something,
but he didn’t hear any water coming in, so he assumed he
was okay.
Bob opened an E-mail on his computer, which read:
Here is the beaded jewelry you requested.
In the future when you log on, use the username
“Backbone Harry.” We give you this nickname
for the irony of it. When asked why you use this
nickname, you must reply “For the backbone of
it!” I mean, “For the irony of it!” If you do not
use this nickname, we will send you a virus which
will automatically self-destruct your hard drive.
Those who do not obey will pay. However, you
are getting the free beaded jewelry you requested,so be consoled by that. If you do not wish to
adhere to these terms, simply return the beaded
jewelry, and watch out for the hit man we will
have on your back. Uh, track.
Sincerely,
The Alka-Seltzer people
P.S. Should you experience heartburn or related
symptoms, take an Alka-Seltzer.
Harry looked down at the letter. Way down because hehad dropped it in the vent. “I wonder what it says,” he
mused.
Harry reached into the vent and pulled it out. “Let’s see
here....Um hmm.. Ah...backbone...Hmm...Well!” Harry
suddenly felt nervous. Electricity ran through his body.
“ARRGH! I’m being Electrocuted!” Harry screamed.
No you’re not, Harry, you always have electricity running
through your body. They had a research going on it that
started with cocoroaches-er, cockroaches.
“Yeah yeah.” Harry replied.
Harry looked at the computer with dread. User name:
with trembling fingers, Harry typed in “Smiling Harry.”
But he had his gun ready. Let them try it. Let them try todistrust his hard drive! That’s destruct, Harry, destruct. He
would get to it first!!!! He was wearing the beaded
necklace, which was very ugly. He felt well equipt. The
computer beeped.
The beep startled Harry and he blasted away the
computer monitor. “Oops,” Harry said to himself. He shutoff the computer and looked around.
A few days later a letter came in the mail. It had a disk
in it. “Gee, I think I’ll pop this unlabeled disk into my
computer,” said Harry. You don’t have a monitor, I
reminded him.
So Harry went out in a quest for a monitor. He bought a
nice Apple monitor and tried to hook it up to his computer.
His attempts, however, failed. This, Harry, is due to the fact
that you have an IBM computer. “Well, you could’ve said
so before I bought it.” Mumbled Harry angrille. “That’s a-n-g-r-i-l-y,” said Harry. Indeed he was right and I was
wrong, but I still had more points and I was winning.
Harry went out again to get a monitor, this time with the
proper monitor type written down. His car was broken
down so he had to walk.
Harry set up his new monitor. This did not do him much
good, however. “Hey my new monitor doesn’t work!”
Harry exclaimed, very frustrated. It would help to turn on
the computer, I reminded him. “Oh yes,” said Harry, “I
knew that.”
Harry turned on his new computer and picked up the
disk. He attempted to install it to his disk drive but it didn’t
fit. “Drat.” mumbled Harry, “It’s one of those older disks.”Harry bought it to the computer in his basement. “It’s a
good thing I didn’t give this away,” he thought to himself.
Harry put the disk in the computer and closed the drive. Hethen booted up the computer.
Harry watched as the computer started to smoke.
“Hmm.” said Harry and suddenly remembered the warning
about the virus, but it was too late. *POP* The Hard drive
made a popping sound and rendered itself useless.
Harry, undaunted, pulled out his gun. “This’ll show
em,” he muttered, and fired a round into the computer.
“Drat now I don’t have any bullets left,” he said. Yes, I
reminded Harry gently, But I do. “Oh, you do?” Harry
asked. “Can I have a few?” Sure, I said, and fired theminto his head. Little did Harry know I was the Alka-seltzer
man.
“Har, har, har,” laughed Bob after reading the file.
After the reading of this story, Keymaster woke up and
began pulling the rest of the books, except for the metal
one, off the shelf.
Silence. Thumpity Thumpity Thumpity Thumpity
Thump.
Were fishes hitting his boat , wondered Bob? Were tiny
fishes with horns ramming his boat? Calm down, Bob, Bob
told himself, It’s probably just part of the CD.Bob turned off the CD player and switched on his
computer. Time for a good long game of solitaire, mused
Bob to himself.
The Keymaster and found Bob’s safe and was applying
the blow torch to it like he had heard he was supposed to.
He lit the torch and blew the fire from the torch to the safe
where it seemed to vanish. A little trick he did again and
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again, but which did not seem to hurt the safe. Finally he
touched the safe to see if it would crumble under his touch.
“YEEEEOWWWEOOOOWEEEOWWWEEE!”
“What was that?” asked Bob to his computer. Then he
remembered he had to type it in. “What was that?” Bob
typed in.
“Bad Command or File Name” the computer repliedthrough a friendly message on the screen.
“Which one? File name or Command?” typed Bob.
“Bad Command or File Name” the computer replied
faithfully.
Bob took a journey upstairs.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” asked Bob to the
Keymaster.
“I’m the pizza delivery man,” said the Keymaster
without missing a beat. “Here’s your pizza.. Hmm. It
seems you’ve eaten it already. You owe me ten bucks.”
Bob however wasn’t feeling very gullible. “In that case
you owe me a maid’s bill of twenty bucks to clean up this
mess you made.”“I didn’t make this mess. The Zoloft monster did.”
“Hmmm.” Bob said to himself. Bob stepped up to the
Keymaster and said, “hold on while I get my money.” Hethen went downstairs and dialed 911.
“Hello, is this an emergency?”
“Yes, someone has broken into my house.”
“Let’s see, oh it’s you. Is this real because if it’s not we
will be pressing criminal charges.”
“Yes.”
“Address please.”
“Um, it’s oh yeah. 1234 Smith Street.”
“We’ll be right over. Now, can you describe the man?”
“Yeah. He’s bald. He’s got a big set of keys, he hasn’tshaven for a few days, he has a handlebar mustache, he is
about 6 feet tall, and he has a deep voice. Except for all
that, he bears a striking resemblance to Elvis.”
The police arrived shortly and took the Keymaster away.
49. Bob’s New HobbyBob, finding himself bored, decided to become a hobo.
As everyone knows, all decent hobos walk the tracks,
occasionally jumping on trains and traveling to far and
dangerous lands. So Bob headed for the nearest railroad
track, which was right down the street from him. He had
not gone far when he spotted his old notebook, soaked with
rain, lying right smack dab in the middle of the tracks! Bobwas about to pick it up, but there was a train coming so he
jumped out of the way.
“Watch it there buddy!” yelled the engineer out the
window, but Bob of course could not hear him. After the
train had passed, Bob rescued his tattered notebook from
the ground.
“Brainstorming,” Bob read aloud, “A hobby.” Bob
paused to muse over this for a while. “Yes,” he mused,
“Brainstorming would make a great hobby.” Bob dropped
the literary notebook and went home to brainstorm.
50. The Hobo Discovers His Loss“Drat,” said Splinter. “I lost my literary notebook.”
This was quite a loss indeed. “Now how am I going to stop
the Mafia from taking over the world?” Splinter askedhimself. Splinter went back to his favorite place to walk,
which was of course the railroad tracks. Unfortunately for
the lonely hobo, he headed in the opposite direction of his
battered literary notebook.
51. Bob Begins Brainstorming“Ah,” said Bob, a faint smile teasing the corners of his
mouth, “I do believe that I will build a brainstorming
machine.” Bob went to his basement. Bob’s Basement ,
said the sign on the door. Bob had an embarrassing middle
name, but he would never tell anyone what it was. There
was only one place where the horrendous word was written
out, and that was the basement. It was written, in tiny
letters, on Bob’s birth certificate. The only thing Bob liked
about his middle name was that it began with an “O.” This
made his initials “B.O.B.” which was the same as his first
name but without all the periods.
Bob made a few calls and got hooked up with a clear,
plastic, and hollow brain. He then took his strobe light and
made it flash next to the brain. Finally, he poured water
into the brain and watched it trickle out of the small orifices
he had poked into the bottom with a screw driver. Bob
stared at the brain for hours before shutting the contraption
off.
“I’ll look at this later,” he said aloud to his cat.The cat, however, did not seem to be paying attention.
Rather, it was sitting there, or laying there rather with a tired
expression on its face, but I suppose you didn’t really need
this paragraph and wished you hadn’t read it because thereis little humor, if any, in it, but that oh noble reader is the
risk you take when reading this story.
52. Plan C“Okay, so that didn’t work either,” said the first man.
“Indeedy, indeedy,” said the second man who had been
listening to a music tape where a man continually said
indeedy indeedy and thought it was extremely cool.
“You’re right, as usual,” said the third lowering his brow.
“We need a plan C,” said the first, emphasizing C very
much.
The third raised an eyebrow.
“Indeedy, indeedy,” said the second.
“A plan C?” asked the third, “What about plan A andB?”
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“Well, they are over and done with. Listen, here’s the
plan-” started the first.
“Indeedy indeedy,” said the second.
“Shut up with that,” growled the first.
“Sorry,” whimpered the second.
“Okay, here’s my plan. We fly over his house with a
helicopter and-”“Where are we gonna get a helicopter?” asked the
second, his voice edged with surprise.
The three discussed this in great detail.
“Three streets from here, take the first left go onto
highway 32, drive until you reach exit 16 get off and take
the third right when you pass the golf course turn on the
disintegrating beam, third lever and second switch, drive
through the wall at the dead end and get in the helicopter,”
said the first.
“Hmm. We could try that,” said the second.
“Sounds like it could get dangerous,” said the third.
“This looks like a job for, Darkwing Duck!” the second
looked around sheepishly as the other two stared at him,“Well, maybe not.”
53. Griffen Meets His Match“Hi there,” said Griffen to a friendly-looking lad. The
friendly-looking lad nodded curtly and went on his way.
“Hi there,” said Griffen to a big, ugly, mean-looking
truck driver. The big, ugly, mean-looking truck driver
smiled warmly.
“Hi,” said the truck driver, “How ya doin’?”
“Well,” said Griffen, “I’m jist fine, but ya know, I’ve
been on the lookout fur this hobo pal of mine named
Splinter, and I just can’t find him.”
“Splinter, eh? I’ll look out for him,” said the big, ugly,mean-looking truck driver, the warm smile still lingering
about his long gnarled whiskers. He turned around and
went on his way, and Griffen noticed the back of his shirt
said “His Match.”
“His Match!” Griffen cried out excitedly.“What?” asked the big, ugly, mean-looking truck driver,
turning around.
“Uh, nothing,” said Griffen, finding a maiden blush
bepainting his cheek.
“Hey how do you do that?” asked His Match.
“Do what?” asked Griffen, the blush becoming a deeper
and more vibrant shade of purple.
“Turn colors like that,” said His Match, and went on hisway.
54. The Hobo Meets His MatchSplinter was just walking along, just minding his own
business, when suddenly a big rig pulled up beside him.
Now it is not every day that a big rig pulls up beside you,
especially not if you are walking on the rail road tracks, so
this gave Splinter a sizable cause of alarm.
“Mamba mia!” cried Splinter, alarm pervading the calm
and peaceful atmosphere that once enveloped the scenery.
Suddenly His Match, the big rig driver, noticed an
unyielding train barreling in his direction!
“Mamba mia!” cried His Match, and with great force
cried out, “I’d best git offa thissie heah railroad track!”
Splinter was awed at His Match’s Huntin’ Joe voice. HisMatch busily cranked the steering wheel around, and in a
jiffy was off of the track. Splinter, however, was not so
lucky.
“Ahhhh!” cried Splinter, and jumped off the track,
spraining his ankle in the process. “Shucks-a-roney!”
muttered Splinter. (Pronounced shucks-uh-rô-nê) “I’m a
professional hobo, this kinda stuff ain’t supposed to happen
to me.” The train passed, and it was a very confused
looking conductor who stuck his head out the window to see
what was going on.
“I say, are you by any chance the great and famous
Splinter?” asked His Match.
“Oww ow ow ow,” said Splinter.“Oh I guess not,” said His Match, and with these final
words climbed into his big rig and drove off down the
railroad tracks.“Nice Huntin’ Joe voice!” called Splinter after the
disappearing truck, but alas, His Match could not hear him.
55. The Hobo Goeth to the Vet of
Aatrakas“I needeth thou to fixeth mine wounded ankle,” sayeth
the great and once famous Splinter.
“I carest for the pets, yea verily for the animals,”
replieth the vet of Aatrakas.“But verily doth mine ankle be damaged and no doctor
beith on site of mine eyes which seest things of great beauty
as well as things of splendor and also the things of
horridness and vileness and the things of-”“Hush, m’lad, tis enough to say less than thou hast said
already. But nay, I shall not treat thee unless thou tellest me
why I am the vet of Aatrakas.”
“Thou art the vet of Aatrakas because ‘tis thy title. Now
treateth me fair maiden if either thee dislike.”
“I beggest thine pardon?”
“I ‘twas taught too much Shakespeare in my day of
schooling.”
So the vet takest Splinters foot and angrily stapled clothto him much vexed that the great Splinter had out wited
him.
“Now goeth and exercise the affected joint,” sayest the
vet.
“Thou hast tried to trick me evil lad, for I knowest much
of thine evil ways. Now unstaple my foot and bandage me
correctly least I show you the meaning of mine name.”
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Now the vet watchest the news and knew of the name
Splinter and was much afraid of Splinter’s wrath and he
bandaged Splinter properly and sent him on his way.
56. Bad News Belly Now in order to understand this chapter, you must
realize that His Match had what we shall call a “bad news belly.” This bad news belly was His Match’s biggest
weapon against evil foes.
“If I ever see that nasty hobo again,” said His Match,
“I’ll use my bad news belly on him.” His Match looked
around. A bleak, desolate landscape met his weary eyes.
“Now how am I going to get off these railroad tracks,” His
Match mused aloud.
“Well I reckon that I could start the engine and driveaway,” His Match answered himself. “After all, that’s what
this here key is for.” He, he took his suggestion, and drove
on down the tracks. Soon he came to a road.
“Now do I want to stick to the tracks or drive on the
road?” His Match asked himself. Seeing another traincoming, he decided to return to his native element, the road.
Besides, the railroad tracks were doing pretty bad things to
the bottom of his truck.
57. More BrainstormingBob switched on his brain and poured in the water.
“Water,” he said as he watched the brain, “the vital life
element. In fact, I bet there’s someone in need of water
right now. In fact I bet he’s dying of thirst. Strange that
they don’t have a term for dying of thirst like they do dying
of hunger which is starving, but I guess that’s just how it
is.”Bob refilled the water and continued watching until he
was interrupted by his cat.
“I’m hungry,” his cat said in the form of a “meow.”
“Oh does the pwetty widdle puddy tat want a shower?”asked Bob as he picked up his trusting cat and held it under
the water leaking out of his brain. The cat indicated that it
didn’t, giving Bob a long scratch over his left eye in the
process. Bob decided to let the cat go.
“Go hither, oh foolish cat, I knoweth when to bathe even
if thou dost not,” thundered Bob who went upstairs to take a
shower.
58. Return of the Bad News BellyConrad was waiting on a sideroad to see if anyone was
speeding or driving drunk so he could follow them if they
were. Then he saw someone swerving all over the road.
Before he could switch on his sirens, His Match, who was
driving all over the road, pulled over. Conrad pulled up
behind him.
“It’s a miracle, I can see!” said His Match as he put on
his glasses. “Oh no! It’s a cop!” he exclaimed with horror
as Conrad came into focus.
His Match got out of his car and bumped over Conrad
with his bad news belly.
Conrad fell to the ground much incensed by the
inexorable nature of his opponent who had just driven away.Conrad got into his car and began a vain pursuit of His
Match, not ever finding him, which is why it was a vain
pursuit.
59. The Helicopter “The disintegration ray isn’t working!” said the first
man.
“Quick use the brake!” said the second man.They braked right in front of the wall. Then suddenly,
the disintegration beam turned on, blasting a huge hole in
the wall.
The first and second men drove away, leaving the third
inside the helicopter. He flew the helicopter to Bob’shouse, where he ran out of fuel and landed in Bob’s front
yard. Then he fled the helicopter, which was probably a
wise move.
60. News Flash“In later news today, a military helicopter was stolen by
a man named Bob Baloney,” said the news person, “He
goes on trial today.”
“Also later today, someone identified only as wearing a
shirt entitled ‘His Match’ used his belly to overcome a
police officer and escape,” said a second newscaster.
“Well,” said His Match as he watched the TV in histruck, “Guess al hafta change mah name. Per’aps ta Jim.
Yes siree, Jim sounds like a right dandy name. Jim Match.”
61. The Game“You are dead,” the voice announced.
“No I’m not,” replied Joe Blow angrily, “I’m right here
aren’t I?”
“Try again?” asked the voice.
“But ahm nut dead, durnit!” said Joe Blow to the
computer.
Joe moved his mouse pointer so that it loomed over the
word quit. “Ha ha. Now yer a getin’ scart, ain’tcha,” said
Joe Blow.Suddenly a gnarled hand reached out of the monitor and
grabbed Joe blow by the collar. It pulled him into the game.
Sally walked into the room.
“How darling,” said Sally, “a picture of my dear ol’
hubby is on this game. Joe’s not around, maybe I’ll give it a
little play.”“Help me, help me,” called Joe Blow as he found his
diversified appendages were being moved by the keyboard.
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Joe awoke with a start and deleted Attack of the Zoloft
Monster from his hard disk.
62. Bob and the TruthBob looked around the now familiar jail cell. He sighed
despairingly.
“Heh, heh,” cackled Conrad in his most evil Ebenizer Scrooge voice. “Now you’re in for it, aren’t you, you old
coot you.”
“I ain’t done nuttin,” said Bob.
“Oh, of course,” said Conrad sarcastically. “You just
have no alibi, no witnesses, plus a history in this cell-” he
gestured “-and the stolen helicopter just shows up in your
front yard, but you of course did not steal it.”
Bob nodded. “That’s right,” he said.“Well,” Conrad snarled, “see if the jury will believe
that.”
“Juries always believe the truth,” Bob said confidently.
“Juries can’t always tell what’s the truth,” said Conrad,
“but I think they’ll see through this one.”
63. Jim Match Helps OutSplinter hobbled along, deeply longing for his lost
literary notebook. He was met by His Match, who was now
Jim Match.
“It’s that nasty hobo,” said Jim Match under his breath.
“What a big, ugly, mean-looking truck driver,” said
Splinter under his breath. “Perhaps he’s seen my literary
notebook.”
“G’day, mate,” said Jim Match cheerily, “What brings a
fine chap like you to this barren land?”
Splinter sighed deeply. “Ah,” he said, “I feel a deeplonging in my heart...”
“Deep longing, eh?” said Jim Match in an understanding
manner. “Aye, the lass got ya down again?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Splinter said quickly. “It’s just my literary notebook, bless its worn and dirtied pages...
It’s been lost, somewhere about the last time I was last
arrested, and I feel that a piece of myself has been lost with
it. I’m torn inside, I’m awash with deep emotions, and my
literary notebook, it’s... gone!” Splinter burst into a
passionate flood of tears. Jim Match had been planning to
use his bad news belly on this unfortunate hobo, but at this
show of emotion, he knew the lad was too tender to take
such vile punishment as that.“There, there, m’lad,” said Jim Match affectionately.
“No need to be crying about such a silly thing as that...”
“What?” screamed Splinter in a fit of rage. “Silly thing
as that? Why I’ll show you - where’s my old board?”
Splinter suddenly remembered that he had left it at jail.
“Nothing ever goes my way!” he moaned, and began
sobbing again. Jim Match was getting a bit fed up with this,
and decided it was about time to use his bad news belly. He
left Splinter, stunned and dazed, to partake of his cup of
sorrows alone.
64. Cell Walls and GatesBob looked around the vast — or perhaps not so vast as
it was rather small — jail cell and let out a moan — no, it
was a sigh really. He circled the premises — well, he waswalking in a square — and found he bumped into the wall
— well, it was the cell gate rather.
Bob continued walking in squares until he bumped into
the cell gate again.
“Drat,” mumbled Bob, “I need some navigational
instruments.”
“You probably do,” said Blister.
“Hi, I’m Bob,” said Bob to his cellmate whom hesuddenly noticed and never got to bump into.
“I’m Blister,” replied the cellmate coolly.
65. The TrialBob nervously cleared his throat.
“State your name,” said the man.
“Bob Boloney,” said Bob.
“Do you swear to mostly tell the truth the whole truth
and nothing but the truth so help you God?”
“Well, no...”
“That one usually works,” mumbled the man.
“Do you swear to tell the truth the whole truth and
nothing but the truth so help you God?”
“Sure.”
“A yes will do just fine,” snapped the judge.
“Yes them,” said Bob, “er, then, I mean.”
“So tell us, in your own words what happened,” saidBob’s lawyer.
“Well, I was sitting in my basement watching my brain
when all the sudden these police came and arrested me. It
seemed someone put a helicopter in my yard.”“You were watching your brain?” asked the lawyer as he
raised an eyebrow quizzically.
“Well, I created a brainstorm to watch, I got a plastic
brain and poked some holes in it and filled it with water and
got a flashing strobe light.”
“Ahhh,” said the jury.
“Ahhh,” said Bob’s lawyer.
“Ahhh,” said the distrust attorney whom Bob very much
distrusted.
66. The Jury Decides“What do you think?” asked the first juror.
“I think he’s innocent,” said the second, “he’s got those
innocent eyes.”
“And I’ll bet he’s got a good heart,” said the third.“And a nice nose,” said the fourth not quite
understanding.
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“So he goes free,” said the first.
And thus was Bob freed.
67. Jim Match Learns About FlashlightsJim Match glanced suspiciously at the tattered notebook
sitting on the seat beside him. He took the notebook into
McDonalds, where he had stopped to eat.
“I’d like a big mac and a large soda,” Jim Match snarled
to the employee, “and make that double quick.” Jim Match
sure could look big and mean and ugly when he wanted to.
His sandwich and soda came mightie quick indeed.Jim Match sat down by himself to study the notebook.
He studied the first page.
Brainstorming
A hobbyHarmonicaPickle jar
That didn’t seem to make much sense, but then thesecode things never did. While casually dipping his big mac
in his soda, Jim Match flipped the page.Anala Uhkiremuh EgroweegAtnalta Acirema Aigroeg shall be my name andI shall publish the poem written by the hobothat invaded my house.Publish = distributePoem = bombHobo named Bob who is really a Mafia leader isbuilding a bomb to distribute...House = “The White House”
Ah, this was simpler. Jim Match thought of his recent
experience with the tearful hobo who was missing a literarynotebook. This, thought Jim Match with trembling fingers,
must be the very same literary notebook! The hobo must be
Bob, and he must be the Mafia leader who is building a
bomb. Jim Match smiled grimly at the recollection of the
most recent use of his bad news belly. Yes, Jim Match may
be wanted by the police, but he would be a crime fighter
nonetheless. The meat from the half eaten big mac slowly
slid from the secure position between the two hardened
pieces of bread and into Jim Match’s soda. Jim Match,
however, was too engrossed in the literary notebook to
notice. He slowly bit into the bread, not noticing that he
was biting his fingers as well.
“Owww!” cried Jim Match in pain. The other customersturned to look at him. “Uhh..” said Jim Match, “looks like
it’s time for me to go.” He stuffed the remainder of hissandwich in his soda, gulping it down on his way out the
door, and stuffing the literary notebook under his “His
Match” shirt, he hurried to his truck.
68. The Cliff
Joe Blow looked down the cliff, it seemed very far. But
maybe it wasn’t.
“Jump and see,” said someone who suddenly appeared
behind him.
Joe turned around to see who it was that spoke and saw
that it was a short man with a veil on his face and gnarled
hands.“Who are you?” asked Joe
“I am the one that seeks to harm you,” said the man as
he let out an evil laugh.
Joe Blow grabbed the man and threw him off the cliff.
The man landed about ten feet lower, suspended in the air.
“I was right,” mused Joe, “It isn’t far down.”
Joe jumped after the man intending to finish him off, or
finish interrogating him at least, but he found he fell right
down. Down and down, past the man and heading for the
ground.
“Help me,” called Joe
“Do my bidding and I will help you,” said the man who
was now falling next to Joe.“W-What is your bidding?” asked Joe.
“Find me Bob’s cat and bring it to me.”
“Bob Babblefoot?”“No, Bob Boloney.”
“I will do it.”
And Joe woke up.
69. Smuggles Has a Dream“Mrowww!” cried Smuggles in his sleep.
“You evil Joe person you!” cried Bob in his sleep.
Smuggles woke up.
“Whew, what a nightmare,” said Smuggles in the form
of delicately placing his claws into Bob’s stomach. Bobferociously slapped Smuggles aside.
“I’ll teach you to mess with my cat,” Bob snarled to his
nightmarely vision. Despite Bob’s kind intention, Smuggles
was not very fond of being slapped aside by lowly humans,
and sleeping ones at that. Smuggles vent his anger bycasually clawing his still sleeping master. Bob woke up.
“Boy what a dream,” said Bob. “It seemed so real, I
could almost feel Joe Blow’s fingernails digging into my
skin...” Then he noticed that he was bleeding. “Hey it was
real!” Bob cried in surprise.
70. Smuggles Has an AdventureThe three masked men and Joe Blow arrived at the
house at the same time.
“What are you doing here? Are you here to arrest us?”
snarled the first masked man.
“I’m here to kidnap the cat,” replied Joe Blow matter of
factly as he walked past the stunned men and kicked the
door open.
Joe walked inside and got the cat.
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“Hey what are you doing?” asked Bob who, taking heed
of his dream, took a day off work.
“Er, I’m taking your cat to the vet.”
“Sure ya is,” Bob snarled in a ferocious manner.
Joe decided that the cat was clawing him too much for
comfort and he wanted to do this comfortably.
The three men came in and grabbed Bob Baloney from behind. They then tied him up with some rope they had
prepared.
Joe Blow found the kitty carrier, stuffed the angry cat in
it and picked it up and proceeded to drive home.
The three masked men started searching the house. The
searched for hours and hours, not noticing the film on Bob’s
computer table. Finally they decided to blindfold Bob and
take him to their secret hideout.
71. The Next DreamWhen Joe got home he was so exhausted he fell asleep
in his bed with the kitty carrier on the floor next to the bed.
The man with the gnarled hands was waiting for him.“Where’s the cat?” he asked.
“Err,” said Joe looking around not seeing it and then he
remembered, “It’s next to my bed.”
“Well go get it,” said the man.
“But-” protested Joe.
“GO!” thundered the short man with amazing vocal
capabilities.
Joe walked for hours until he reached his bed. The kitty
carrier was not there. He walked back a few more hours
until he found the man.
“Well,” asked the man.
“Well...” began Joe.
“Come,” said the man, and lead Joe to a cliff. Joe Blowlooked down the cliff, it seemed very far. But maybe it
wasn’t.
“Jump and see,” said a voice.
“No!” cried out Joe with great energy. The man pushed
Joe off the cliff.“That’ll teach you,” he snarled, gazing at Joe’s fleeing
figure.
“But I got the cat, I got him!” Joe cried. The ground
was rushing in closer and closer. Faster and faster fell Joe,
when suddenly -
BOOM!
“Whew,” gasped Joe, looking around him, “Good thing
I landed on this bed.”“Let me out of here!” yelled Smuggles in the form of
“meow.”
72. Sally Blow Returns From Alaska“Joe, are you okay?” asked Sally as she opened the door
to the room and looked at his white face, “you look pale.”
“Just fine,” said Joe and mumbled, “Ahn a good thang I
landed on thissie heah bed,” in his Huntin’ Joe voice.
“What’s this cat doing here?” asked Sally.
“Oh just visiting,” said Joe Blow. “How was Alaska?”
“Oh, it was great, especially the primitive camping.
You should have been there, Joe,” Sally hinted.
“Primitive camping, eh?” asked Joe.
“Oh yes. The best part was when I got lost. I’m going
to write a story about it,” Sally exclaimed excitedly.“You got lost?” Joe questioned.
“Yes, and all I had with me was - let me think here - half
of a sandwich and a can of soda, my pocketknife, an old yo-
yo, a plastic garbage bag, and Boy’s Life magazine,” Sally
recalled. “And, of course, my trusty dog.”
“Your trusty dog?”
“Yes, didn’t you get my postcard? I bought a dog at a
pet store in Alaska.” As if on cue, a huge dog bounded in
the room and onto Joe’s bed, licking his face happily.
“Ralph!” Sally scolded. “Be gentle with Joe!”
Suddenly Ralph noticed the cat. “What’s that cat doing
here?” Ralph barked. Joe looked at the terrorized cat with
mild alarm.“I’d better return this cat,” said Ralph, in Joe’s voice.
“Yes, you’d better,” said Sally as she left the room with
her dog, leaving Joe a bit stunned.
73. 911 Again“Hello, is this an emergency?”
“Um, I’m not sure.”
“Well you’d better find out pretty soon, buster.” The
voice on the other line did not sound at all friendly.
“Let’s see, why did I call... Oh yes I remember it was
because I swallowed a fly but that didn’t really happen you
see because Marz didn’t like that part of the story and
deleted it.”“Name please-”
“Joe Blow.”
“Address-”
“407 Phathead Street.”
“We’ll be right over.”
74. Three Masked Men are Unmasked“Who are you?” Bob questioned threateningly as the
three masked men pulled off his gag.
“We are Unmasked,” replied the first man.
“Unmasked?” asked the second.
“Yes,” the first answered.“Remember, that was the name of our favorite music
group,” the third reminded the second, “so we decided it
would be our name too.”
“Oh yes,” said the second.
The three masked men did not pull off their masks,
however, much to Bob’s disappointment.
75. The Call That Was Close
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Joe hung up the phone.
“Whew, that was close,” he gasped. Then he
remembered the cat. “I’d better get this back to Bob,” he
mumbled as he picked up the kitty carrier. It swung
violently as Smuggles tried to unhook the latch. Cats
however are not that good at unhooking latches, much
unlike their friends the monkeys. Thus was Smugglesunsuccessful. Joe tossed the kitty carrier in the car and
drove off.
76. Ding DongThus was the sound that summoned Sally and Ralph to
the door.
“It’s the police,” snarled the cop on the other side of the
door.“It’s Sally Blow,” said Sally in response, as she opened
the door.
“Where’s Joe Blow?” asked the cop.
“He left to return a cat.”
“Well, when he gets back tell him not to make anymorefake calls to the police department.”
With that the cop gave a sigh and waddled back into his
car and drove away.
77. Ding Dong Once Again“Anybody home?” asked Joe Blow. He waited about an
hour and rang the doorbell again.
“Now anybody home?” Still no answer. “Well I reckon
he’ll be home soon, I’ll just leave the cat on the doorstep.”
This being done, Joe Blow returned home. Ralph was
waiting for him.
“Bow wow!” said Ralph.“Sally!” Joe exclaimed in surprise. “I didn’t know our
dog could talk!”
“Yes, well, he’s rather talented,” replied Sally modestly.
78. Eth Oboh“Old Mac Donarld had a slarm,” hollered Splinter.
“E-ah-eah-choo!” sneezed Blister who was enjoying a
recent jail break.
“Oh are you singing along?” asked Splinter.
“No, I just had to, well, sneeze,” said Blister.
79. The Bad New Belly of JusticeJim Match looked around. There was a cat in a kitty
carrier on the front porch. He rang the doorbell. Now Jim
had heard that the Mafia gives quick service, so Jim held his
breath expecting a quick answer from a Mafia man, butsoon found that he was gasping for breath and quite angry
that he had to gasp for breath. He was so angry in fact that
he burst the door open with his bad news belly.
Jim searched the house for clues as to this Mafia
person’s whereabouts. He found the signs of a struggle.
Jim looked outside on the cement road. There were no tire
imprints, and he decided there couldn’t have been a car
driving on the road then. Catching on to the scent using one
of Bob’s dirty sweat socks with his nose-o-matic, the
electronic nose from Yzeech, Jim Match followed out to
where a car must have been and got in his truck and
followed the scent.He soon reached a barn and found Bob Boloney tied up
in it.
“Are you Bob, the Mafia man?” he asked.
“No, I’m Bob Boloney, the Actor.”
“Hey, yeah, you are. I’ve seen your show, The Many
Adventures of Bob, and I think it’s great, well, gotta go find
a Mafia man.”
“Wait can’t you untie me first? I’ve been kidnapped.”
“Why shore.”
Then the three masked men burst into the room.
“Have you fellahs seen anyone been kidnapped
hereabouts?” asked Jim.
“Err...” said the first.“Er,” said the second.
“Yeah, they just left,” said the third thinking himself
very clever.“Then why did those two say ‘Er’?” asked Jim
menacingly as he waved an arm at the first two.
“Er,” said the first.
Jim Match was glad to employ his Bad News Belly of
Justice to set things right. He then untied Bob Baloney and
sent him on his way.
80. The Hobo Meets His Old Friend, the
Baloney ManSplinter and Blister were walking along the tracks,
having a grand old time singing “Old Mac Donarld had a
slarm,” when suddenly who did they meet but Bob Baloney,
who was on his way home but was lost.“Hey don’t I know you,” Bob Baloney frowned
menacingly.
“Why,” said Splinter as the pleasure of recognition
slowly slid across his weathered and wrinkled face, “I
believe you do!”
Just then but who should jump into the picture but our
favorite superhero (besides Super Marz, of course), Obne
Boy!
“I’m Obne Boy,” said Obne Boy.“Hey can I have your autograph?” asked Bob. “You’re
my favorite superhero! Well, besides Super Marz, of
course.”
“I’m Obne Boy,” said Obne Boy, and took Bob’s paper
and pen and wrote “I’m Obne Boy” on it.
“Wow, thanks!” cried Bob excitedly. “I’d invite you all
over to dinner, but I seem to have lost my way.”
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“Follow me,” said Splinter, and the four jumped onto a
train that (as often happens in the movies and storybooks)
was just happening to be rolling by.
81. Obne Boy Comes to Lunch“Here is lunch,” said Splinter.
Obne Boy came to it.
82. Obne Boy Eats LunchMmm. That was good, thought Obne Boy after eating
lunch. He expressed this by saying, “I’m Obne Boy.”
“That was my bindle!” cried Splinter.“What’s a bindle?” asked Bob.
“It’s a hobo’s bundle,” said Splinter.
“What was your bindle?” asked Bob.
“That!” cried Splinter in a horrified voice, pointing to
the remains of Obne Boy’s lunch.
“What’s going on here?” questioned Conrad
threateningly, who had just snuck up from behind the
foursome.
“It appears that the bindle has been eaten,” said Blister
in a professional manner, coming once again to the rescue
of his dearly beloved friend.
“My bindle, my bindle,” moaned Splinter softly.
“I’m Obne Boy,” said Obne Boy dramatically.
“Look!” cried Conrad. “It’s Obne Boy! Say, can I have
your autograph? You’re my favorite superhero! Besides
Super Marz, of course.”
“My bindle, my bindle,” Splinter still moaned, anon.
“Don’t worry,” said Blister consolingly to Splinter, “I’ll
share my bindle with you!”
So they all lived happily ever after. Except, of course,for -
83. TazgrawatiTazgrawati, whom everyone called Taz for short, looked
at a picture of a Tasmanian devil cartoon character framed
on his wall, whom everyone called Taz for short. He then
looked outside his window. He saw a barn throughout the
vegetation of the forest.
Taz looked at Taz. “Fine day isn’t it?” asked Taz.
This caused Taz to jump out of his skin. “A talking
picture?” he wondered aloud, “perhaps I am going mad!”
He then watched outside as three men were repelled
from the barn and knocked unconscious with a bad news belly.
“Yes, I am going mad,” he decided aloud and went for a
rest.
84. Mr. Match and the Many Mafia MenJim jumped onto the train.
“So, you’re all conspirorating together,” said Jim
effectively making up the word.
“And a police officer too, what a scam,” he added.
Bob Baloney smiled a disarming smile and Jim’s bad
news belly fell to the ground, disarming him. Also, it took
him with it.
“Oof!” declared Jim Match.
“Now wait a moment, this guy is the Mafia man,” said
Splinter pointing at Bob Baloney.“No, I’m not, he is,” said Bob pointing at Blister.
“What!!?” asked Blister horrified, then catching on said,
“He is,” as he pointed to Obne Boy.
Obne Boy groaned and pointed to Jim Match. “I’m
Obne Boy,” he said.
“I think he means,” began Splinter.
“That you are the Mafia man,” finished Blister.
Jim Match got up and said, “Well I don’t think so or
else I’d know it, now wouldn’t I!?”
Suddenly Splinter had an idea. “All right, I admit it.
The vet of Aatrakas is the Mafia man. How did you find
out about it anyway?”
“Your notebook,” said Jim Match, “now lead me to thevet.”
85. The Vet of Aatrakas Gets A PleasantSurprise
“A pleasant surprise awaits you,” the fortune cookie had
said.
“I can hardly waiteth,” sayeth the vet of Aatrakas.
Then the door flewth open and off its ignoble hinges.
Jim Match stormth into the room of the vet of Aatrakas of
Illinois of the United States of America of Earth of the
Milky Way of-
“I’ve waited a long time to get to you, but fortunatelythe train stopped at the right spot. You’re under a citizen’s
arrest,” emmitith Jim Match.
“Thou dost not speakest the language as I do for ‘tis not
to say that thou art noble,” sayeth the vet.“Perchance of perchanceness I shouldst arrest this fine
fellow of Aatrakas,” speakest forth Conrad before he
rememberest a warrant wouldst be necessary, “Er,
perchance I’d best be off,” he said lackadaisically slipping
out of the door to get a warrant.
86. The Warrant“I need a warrant,” said Conrad. “To arrest the leader of
the Mafia.”“The leader of the Mafia, eh?” questioned George Khan,
chief of police.
“Mafia leader, eh?” asked Police Officer Jake.
“Do you have a witness who will vouch to this?” asked
the judge of Aatrakas.
“Yes,” said Conrad.“Go get him,” said the judge of Aatrakas.
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87. To Get a Warrant“I need you to testify,” said Joe Conrad to Splinter.
“I, er, I’m-” started Splinter.
“Hey, didn’t you escape from jail? You’re under
arrest,” he said as he slipped a handcuff over his wrist and
over Splinter’s, he failed to notice that a beaver had gnawed
the chain away while he wasn’t looking.Splinter casually walked out of the door while Conrad
looked the other way.
“Anyone else escape from jail?” he asked.
“I served my time,” said Bob Baloney.
“Me too,” said Blister.
“So did I,” said Jim not wanting to be left out.
“That Splinter fellow got away,” said the vet of
Aatrakas.Conrad rushed out into the street and grabbed Splinter
from behind. He then hoisted him over his shoulder and
carried him all the way back to the station.
88. Testifying“I was just kidding!” proclaimed Splinter.
“That’s giving false information to a police officer,
buddy, you’ll get jailed for that,” said Police Officer Jake.
“Than I wasn’t kidding,” proclaimed Splinter a bit
louder than necessary.
“Well, you’ll still get jailed for breaking out of jail,”
said Conrad.
“Then I was kidding,” said Splinter.
“You’ll get jailed for longer then.”
“All right, I’m telling the truth all along,” said Splinter
“Good, now about that warrant judge.”
“Here you go,” said the judge signing a warrant.
89. The Arrest“How sweet is a frost on the most untimely flower of the
field. How untimely is the frost on the sweetest flower of
the field. How flowery is the field on the untimely frost.”
“No, no, you’re supposed to say the Miranda warning,
dummy,” said Bob to Conrad.
“Oh, sorry,” said Conrad, “It’s just I’ve always wanted
to quote some Shakespeare upon arrest.”
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say
can and will be used against you in the court of law. You
have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an
attorney one will be provided for you. You have the right toa color television, the right to pursue happiness in jail and
the right to eat mashed potatoes with gravy,” said Conrad.
You see, in Illinois, the Miranda warning is a bit different.
90. Tazgrawati, the Mafia ManTazgrawati, who was called Taz for short, looked at the
three Mafia men who were sprawled on the ground in his
back yard.
“Why don’t these guys get it together,” grumbled Taz.
So he went out to the barn himself and got them together.
“Hey,” said the first Unmasked, “how come I’m all tied
up?”
“And of all people to be tied to,” said the second
Unmasked, “it had to be you.” The third Unmasked was
still snoozin.“That’ll show ‘em,” said Taz, the Mafia Man. “I still
think that we should have a better hideout then this old barn,
though.”
91. Were You Expecting That?Maybe you were expecting that. I wasn’t, but you may
have been. That’s why Chapter 90 is the pretend chapter.
We can’t have you knowing what’s going on in the storynow can we. Ha, I sure fooled you I did.
92. The Real 90Tazgrawati looked around the abandoned shed. It
wasn’t truly abandoned, actually, for there were three
unconscious men in it.
“Well, fellahs, it seems a great crime has been
committed to you guys,” said Tazgrawati.
“Er, yeah,” said the first who had woken up, “but don’t
call the cops or nuttin’.”
“Ah, don’t be modest,” said Tazgrawati reaching for a
phone.
“No, no, you see he was a fiend of ours,” said the first,
“and we don’t want him jailed or nuttin’.”
“A fiend?”
“I mean a friend.”
“Well then, I’ll just leave you fellas here,” saidTazgrawati as he left.
93. The Trial of Aatrakas“How doth thou plead,” quoteth the judge.
“I spittith upon thine shoes,” sayeth the vet of who trieth
to spitith on his shoesth, but could noth asth theth judgeth
was in a highth boxth. After three or four attempteths he
replieth, “Not guilty, but cometh out of thine stand and I
mayst change mine mind.”
“Rather, I shall not, for thou seest, I am much afeard of
the expectoration that proceedeth out of thine mouth.
Instead I shalt hold thee for contempt.”
94. The Trial of all Trials“Call yer foist woitness, Mr. Locke,” said the Judge to
the prosecuting attorney.They called Splinter to the stand and Splinter nervously
admitted that the vet was the Mafia man. He also
acknowledged that he had read a notice by him from jail.
“Call your first witness, Mr. Fatlock,” said the Judge.
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“We call Stuart Finalodamepasalodemoalongfellow to
the stand.”
Mr. Fatlock, the criminal lawyer, pointed out that
Stuart, the vet, had never been in jail.
He then proceeded to point out that there was no
evidence, other than a note which did not match Stuart’s
hardwiring, and asked Splinter what led him to believe thatStuart was a Mafia man.
“Well, it was his eyes, really. They looked like Mafia
man eyes.”
When the case was closed Stuart went free and Splinter
was placed back into jail.
95. Bob Gets a New PartThe Film Maker, as they called him, who had made the
Zoloft series, which was a hit seller, was looking for a new
movie to do on the side.
“What movie can I do on the side,” said the Film Maker,
casting suspicious glances to all in the room around him.
“Uh, oh, Fred,” said Chris, who played a plethora of badguy parts, “He’s on to us!”
“That’s it,” said the Film Maker aloud, “Zondus!”
“And I think I should make Bob Baloney the main
character, Zondus. I can do him like the Tidy Golfin’
Powerful Strangers!” The Film Maker hesitated. “No,
maybe I won’t.”
And he didn’t.
96. Abbub...worked at a nice little cafe called Coblin’s Cafe. At first
people were very terrified by it thinking it was a Goblin’s
Cafe and nobody went. Until one day some people gotcurious and went and soon everyone was coming.
Abbub served a lot of sandwiches. Mainly he served the
BLT, which stood for Bacon Lettuce and Tomatoes.
One day, Abbub invented the BLC, which stood for Bacon Lettuce and Cauliflower. This was not a great
success. So, undaunted, Abbub created the BLD, which
stood for Bacon Lettuce and Dynamite. Now this was a
blast of a success, if you get my drift, which landed Abbub
in jail for attempted manslaughter. He was in the same
holding cell as Splinter.
97. Jim Match Has a BLD
Jim Match walked into Coblin’s Cafe.“What’s the special,” he asked Tano, Coblin’s Cafe’s
new owner.
“Well, the last guy who ran this place served BLD’s, but
I can’t figure out what that stands for,” said Tano.
“BLD?” asked Jim Match. “Probably ‘Biscuit,
Lemonade, and Doughnuts.’”
“Hmmm,” said Tano. “That could be right. Hey
Jonah,” he called to his only waiter, “Give this guy BLD.
That’ll be three bucks,” he said to Jim.
Jonah brought Jim Match a Balogna, Lime, and a Dead
mouse sandwich. Jim took a bite.
“Yuck!” he said as he left, not bothering to pay his bill.
98. Abbub Plans an Escape“How can I get out of here?” mused Abbub aloud.
“Pay bail,” replied Splinter casually.
“Where did you come from?” asked Abbub aloud.
“The train tracks. ‘Tis where I was born, on a train, ah,
but that is of no matter. I am Splinter, who art thou?” asked
Splinter left with much flowery talk from the Aatrakas
series.“Well, there’s got to be a better way,” said Abbub aloud.
“It ain’t worth it, pal,” said Splinter casually pulling a
leech off his arm. This was harder than he expected and he
began pulling it out a little less casually.
“Lemme’ help ya thar,” said Abbub aloud as he pulledthe leech out of Splinter’s arm forcing Splinter to wince in
pain.
“Hey, yer a blasted Hobo,” said Abbub silently.
“Listen, bud,” said Abbub aloud, “We’s is gonna break
outta dis joint, sees?”
“With my eyes which seest things of great beauty as well
as things of splendor and also the things of horridness and
vileness sees, they shore do, yesire, bub, I declar they does,”
replied Splinter changing accents in the middle of his
sentence.
“Er...” said Abbub, much questioned as to the sanity
level of his companion.
“It’s all right,” said Splinter realizing what Abbub wasthinking, “Why I’m as sane as a rabid pit bull.” He laughed
at his joke, thinking it was rather good. Abbub, however,
didn’t laugh.
“Maybe I’ll just get out by myself,” he mused aloud.
“Get out where?” asked Conrad.“Out of here of course,” said Abbub thinking it was
Splinter asking, for their voices sounded much alike with
the exception that Splinter’s was raspy and harsh and
Conrad was practicing singing opera when he talked, but
nay, Abbub did not notice these small details.
“Oh, your getting a lawyer?” sang Conrad.
“No, I thought I made it very clear that I was breaking
out, and I’m not taking you with me,” Abbub frowned as hestared at the wall.
“I shouldn’t think you’d have any sense in your he-e-e-
ead if you diiiiid,” sang Conrad. Conrad then cleared his
throat and said in a normal voice, “We’ll have to move you
to another cell.”
99. Abbub Sends a Message
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From his new jail cell, Abbub sent coded messages to
“that blasted hobo.”
“Hey you,” said Abbub to Conrad.
“What issssiii-i-i-sss it?” sang Conrad. “La la la! La,
la.”
“Give this to that blasted hobo in the other cell,” said
Abbub, passing Conrad a folded piece of paper.“Knock of the singing, will ya, Joe?” called George
Khan, Chief of Police.
“As you wish, O great and mighty George,” sang
Conrad, working on his upper tenor range. “Khan, Chief of
Police,” he added, now practicing his lower base. George
Khan, Chief of Police, sent in Police Officer Jake to take
care of him.
“Joe,” said Police Officer Jake in a very professional
manner, “you must stop this cursed singing.”
“Very well,” said Conrad in a hurt but not singing voice,
“I will sing for you no longer. You will soon regret it, when
I become rich and famous, for I will be sure to tell the
reporters who were the ones who tried to discourage me.But Conrad knows better then to listen to them! Yes, the
world will know!” Conrad, practicing his Broadway
dancing, skipped off into the other room.“Here you are, you blasted hobo!” sang Conrad to
Splinter, giving him the message. Greedily, Splinter ripped
open the message, a thin line of drool dribbling down his
chin. Then he noticed it was in code. Splinter could not
read the code. He wiped the drool from his beard and spat
in the direction of Abbub.
“Ye olde erstwhile tavern proprietor,” hissed Splinter in
rage, “How darest thou writeth thus?” Abbub, sensing
Splinter’s scorn, rudely stuck his tongue in the unfortunate
hobo’s direction. Splinter secretly vowed revenge, but itwas not a very strong vow, and in the matter of ten minutes,
he had forgotten all about it.
100. Tano Eats a Hedgehog“Well, Jonah,” said Tano, “It’s time to change the menu.
Me and you has got to come to an agreement here.”
“Oh, go eat a hedgehog!” Jonah snarled.
“Hedgehog?” questioned Tano. “That’s very
interesting, Jonah, I’ll add it to the menu.”
Hedgehog , wrote Tano on the dry-erase board that
served as the menu.
Customer X walked in.
“Hi, my name’s Sarah,” said customer X.“It’s customer X,” said Jonah under his breath.
“Hush, Jonah,” said Tano to Jonah under his breath.
“It’s a bad omen, when customer X walks in just after
you eat a hedgehog,” said Jonah to Tano under his breath.
“I didn’t eat a hedgehog,” said Tano.
“Yes you did,” said Jonah, smirking, “remember that
‘hamburger’ I made you?”
“Why you dirty rotten little sigin, you!” exclaimed
Tano, still under his breath. Customer X, named Sarah,
meanwhile, was having a rather difficult time, due to the
fact that she was rather short and being under the breath of
Jonah and Tano after they had just consumed a hedgehog
was rather unbearable.
“Oh my,” said Sarah, and promptly left.“Now see what you did!” cried Tano in anguish.
“Sorry,” said Jonah.
“Quick, take this,” said Jonah as he handed Tano a
Altoid.
“Hmm. Candy,” said Tano as he chewed it up.
“Argguga!” he declared loudly as he reached for a nearby
glass of soy sauce, thinking it was water, as Customer XI
walked in.
“Hmm. Whatever they’re serving here, it doesn’t seem
like it tastes so great,” said Customer XI, “but maybe I’ll
get a drink.”
Tano spit out the soy sauce all over the floor.
“Better leave,” mumbled Customer XI as he left.“Now look what you’ve done!” declared Jonah loudly.
“Don’t you know better than to chew an Altoid?”
Then walked in customer XII, whose name was Sam.“Yo, Tano, nice place ya got here, how’s it hangin’ my main
man?”
“Hangin’ upside-down, man, upside-down,” mumbled
Tano, “What can I getcha’?”
“How about a cup of nice Sulfur water and, what’s your
special?”
“Hedgehog served with soy sauce,” replied Tano, then
remembering he added, “but we’re out of soy sauce for
now.”
“Well then, I’ll take that.”“Oh, but we don’t serve sulfur water here, we serve
plain fruit punches and water. Our special today is banana
punch.”
“I’ll just take a plain water then.”
“Okay. Jonah, get this guy a mug of water and a
hedgehog with- er without soy sauce.”
Jonah got him just that.
“Mmm. This is mighty tasty,” said Sam.
“Indeedy, indeedy, indeedy,” said Tano who was the
second masked man.
101. A Century“You got the century?” asked the first masked man.“Yeah,” said the third masked man as he handed the first
a $100 bill.
“Here,” said the first as he handed it to the bomb maker.
“Here,” said the Bomb maker as he handed him a time
bomb. “Whoops,” he said accidentally flipping the
irreversible switch.
“Quick, take it to the jail cell, we’ve got five minutes,”
said the first.
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“But it’s a eight minute drive,” said the third.
“Take it to the dump across the street.”
“Here, gimme that,” said the bomb maker. He took a
pair of scissors and clipped a red wire. “Opps,” he said.
“Dang it, I always do that!” said the bomb maker as he
bashed his head into the bomb several times in great
frustration. When it did not explode he clipped off thegreen wire. “There, here’s your money back. I’ll make you
another one later.”
102. Joe Junior Joe Blow Junior was going to school today even though
he had a stuffy nose. This was because he only had 10 days
he was allowed to miss and he was saving them up for the
end of the year.Joe Junior was sitting in class, pondering a writing
assignment. He had heard that breathing through the nose
and out of the mouth gives more oxygen to the brain and
muscles. He tried this, much to the annoyance of his
classmate, Jimmy. Now one of Joe Junior’s nostrils was more clogged than
the other. Joe Junior had also heard that if you covered up
the right nostril the left side of the brain would get more
oxygen and if you covered up the left nostril the right side
of the brain would get more oxygen, causing it to think
either more creatively or more intellectually.
Joe Junior covered up the unclogged nostril and inhaled
through his nose deeply several times. He felt the creative
juices flow.
“Stop it!” hissed Jimmy, “You are ruining my
concentration!”
“SHH!” hissed Joe Junior in reply. “You’re ruining MY
concentration!”“Having a pleasant conversation, boys?” asked Mr.
Guttersnaks.
“Not very pleasant actually,” said Jimmy.
“I’ll see you boys up front after class,” said Mr.
Guttersnaks.Joe Junior resumed his creative juice releasing method
until Jimmy finally lost it.
“STOP IT!” yelled Jimmy.
“Is there a problem Mr. Cricket?” asked Mr.
Guttersnaks cruelly for Jimmy’s last name was Sakarata.
“This finite fool is making too much noise!” declared
Jimmy.
“Stop it, Mr. Blow,” cautioned Mr. Guttersnaks.“But, sir, my creative juices are really flowing!” argued
Junior with much vigor and vitality.
“Joe...” warned Mr. Guttersnaks.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Guttersnaks, sir,” mumbled Junior.
103. Grounded“You did what?” asked Joe Blow senior.
“I allowed my creative juices to flow,” mumbled Joe
Blow Junior nervously.
“I see. And you got detention for it? What am I going
to do with you boy?” thundered Joe Blow.
“Well, you could pick me up after the detention since
the school bus won’t wait.”
Joe Blow Senior sighed, “But I’m going to Braziltomorrow. I won’t be back till the day after tomorrow.”
“What kind of travel are you using?”
“I don’t know yet. Haven’t worked that part out.”
“Then pick me up.”
“All right, but until the next coupla days you are
grounded.”
“Yes, sir.”
104. Gotcha’Bob Baloney walked into the store to see Sam and Tano
conversing.
“So what about the film?” murmured Sam who was the
first masked man and was now presently unmasked.“Say, have we met before?” asked Bob slapping his
hand on Sam’s back, for indeed they had met at the bank.
“Don’t touch me, buddy!” growled Sam as he looked
into Bob’s face anger vented into his eyes, then when he
saw Bob face the anger turned to horror and his face was
painted a mime’s blush. It turned white in other words.
“N-No, I d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-
d--d--d-d-d-d-d-d-d-don’t think we’ve met,” he said passing
out.
“Guess not,” he said turning to Tano. Tano was a bit
pale as well.
“What’s the special?”
“B-b-bomb, I mean-hold on-”Tano dragged Sam into the kitchen and out of sight,
using smelling salts he revived him. “Wake up, atta boy,
listen, he’s traced us down, we gotta move outa town.”
“Right.”
“The police are probably coming behind him let’s go outof the back door.”
And they did, leaving Bob waiting for merely a few
minutes before the waiter came.
“What can I getcha’?”
“Whato iso yo specialo?”
“Hedgehog with soy sauce or a gargling peacock.”
“I’llo tako tho peacocko.”
Bob listened to the beautiful gargling of the peacock until it was drowned out by the growling of his stomach.
Then Bob ordered the hedgehog which was delicious.
105. Under (New!) ManagementJonah looked around.
“Where’d Tano go?” he questioned. He went into the
back room. There he found a note.
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Jonah the store’s yours. If you try to track me down
you’ll be shot so keep your big nose in your own busyness.
“Hmm,” mused Jonah. “I always thought there was
something suspicious about that guy.”
Just then a customer walked in. It was, lo and behold,
none other than Customer X!
“Hi I’m Sarah,” said Customer X for the second time.“What can I get for you?” Jonah asked in his most
professional I’m-in-charge-here manner.
“What’s your special?” Sarah questioned.
“Hedgehog with soy sauce or a gargling peacock.”
“Sounds lovely,” said Sarah, “I’ll take both of them.”
Sarah enjoyed a lunch of hedgehog with soy sauce whilst
listening to the beautiful gargling of the peacock.
“Say,” said Jonah to Sarah as she finished eating the
hedgehog, “I don’t suppose you’d like to help me run this
joint, would you? My partner just walked out on me.”
“Would I get free hedgehog sandwiches?” Sarah asked
suspiciously.
“As many as you make,” replied Jonah.“All right then,” said Sarah.
And they lived happily ever after. Well, almost...
106. Siupid Salesmen...was the name of the company. Actually, the name was
Stupid Salesmen but the crossbar in the t was a different
color so it looked like Siupid Salesmen. Many people were
thus confused into thinking that they were snobby salesmen
using big words and business was not too good.
The whole point of naming the car sales company Stupid
Salesmen was so people would think they could take
advantage of the salesmen’s stupidity and get great
bargains. One of these salesmen was nicknamed, “M&M”which stood for Marble Man because of his great skill in
marbles.
Today was Thursday, October 24, and Marble Man was,
as usual, playing marbles with the latest customer. Many of
his customers refused to play, but this did not frustrateM&M. He knew that many people were intimidated by his
great marble playing skills.
When M&M was informed that he and his “friends” had
to go on the run, he was rather glad to go for perhaps he
could get better marble playing at a new job. Job
opportunities are rather slim when you are the third masked
man.
107. Dynamite“I got that Dynamite for the jail break,” said Tano.
“Good. Where did you get it?” asked Sam.
“Home Depot,” replied Tano.
“What?” asked Sam.
“What?” asked M&M.
“Look,” said Tano pulling out a cylinder shaped
container with “DYNAMITE plant food” written on it.
“That’s plant food, stupid,” said Sam angrily.
“Ah well, we’d best be on our way. I suppose we won’t
be able to break that fellow out of jail after all. Let’s go.”
And they did.
108. The Doorbell“Ring Worm” rang the Blow’s doorbell. The reason
that it rang “Ring Worm” instead of “Ding Dong” was that
when Joe Blow Junior’s friends rang on the doorbell he
would go running outside with them barefoot. Sally,
however, was much afraid that Joe Junior would get
ringworms and had Joe Senior install this little doorbell
device to remind Junior to put on his shoes.
Senior answered the door with a “yeah, whaddaya
want?”“Mr. Blow?”
“Yeah?”
“Mr. Joe Blow?”
“Yeah.”
“Mr. Joe Phat Blow?”“No, that’s the guy next door.”
“Good day then.”
109. We Don’t Know Where They Stand“Where do you stand?” asked the Keymaster to the
convict across his cell.
“Wouldn’t you like ta know!” snarled Abbub.
“Looks like you stand in that thar cell,” sneered the
Keymaster.
“Hah! That shows what you know. Only Bob
Babblefoot knows where I stand on the issue of keys.”
“Well, you don’t know my stand on the view of theelectric chair.”
“I’ll bet I can guess.”
“Don’t bother. You won’t be told if you’re right or
wrong.”The truth is, my friends, we don’t know where they
stand.
110. Beanie BelliesJoey (Joe Blow Junior) strapped on a Beanie Belly,
which come in many designer colors and patterns, and
tucked it under his shirt. The purpose of the beanie belly
was to look fat, because the maker had heard that it was
good to be phat.Junior’s days of being grounded had finally ended and
he walked down the street with an impressive looking bad
news belly.
“Gained a bit of weight there, Joey?” asked Jimmy.
Fortunately the bad news belly was made of beans and
hardly did more than to stun Jimmy.
111. Let’s Leave This One To the Golfers
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Obne Boy looked at the stick suspiciously. It was a
metal stick, with a blunt obtrusion at one end. It appeared
to have been gripped at the other end. Obne Boy gave the
stick a swing.
“Owwww!” cried Tazgrawati in pain.
“I’m Obne Boy,” said Obne Boy sheepishly.
“Well I’m Tazgrawati!” shouted Tazgrawati angrily.“Feel my wrath!” With these violent words, Taz snatched
the golf club out of the trembling hands of Obne Boy. Obne
Boy, sensing the danger of the situation, turned and fled.
As Obne Boy was in Taz’s backyard, which was rather a
farm, he had plenty of room to flee in. Obne Boy headed
for the cow pasture.
“I’m Obne Boy,” said Obne Boy as he skirted past a
cow.
“Mooo!?!?!” said the cow in terror, and began to run
away from Obne Boy! Obne Boy, having nothing better to
do, ran after the cow. Taz, still wildly waving the golf club,
ran after Obne Boy.
“Mooo!” cried the cow.“I’m Obne Boy!” cried Obne Boy, hoping that someone
would rescue him from the wrath of the great and mighty
and fearful Tazgrawati.“Feel my wrath!” snarled Taz.
“Hey!” cried Phosphorous Man, suddenly coming to the
rescue, “leave that cow alone!”
112. To Ebb or Not To Ebb“To Ebb, or not to Ebb,” muttered Taz as he frantically
waved the golf club and ran after Obne boy into a low barn
door.
This did not do wonders for the golf club. In fact it bent
it out of shape, knocked it out of Taz’s hand, and hit Taz onthe head, successfully knocking him out. Obne Boy then
escaped.
113. Stop Stalling“I know your stalling,” said the angry man, “what
happens to the masked men.”
“They get away,” said the calm cool collected kid with
the nice haircut.
The angry man with the red face said, “They’d better
not, or this story is finished.”
Which brings us to chapter,
114. Submitting the Tape“Here’s the tape about the bank,” spoke Bob to the man
in charge.
“Thanks,” he muttered as he snatched the tape and
stuffed an edible napkin into his mouth.
115. Listen up, Bob.
“Bob, you have recorded a bank robbery. This is
evidence. I need you to submit it to the police. I’m sure
there will be a reward.”
Bob, being rich, did not want a reward and was none too
fond of the police.
“Okay,” he said taking the tape.
116. The FrogBob Babblefoot was an unfortunate soul. He was very
unfortunate indeed. This was because...well, let me show
you his song.
You poooor unfortunate soul,
You can’t bowl.
You poor soul.
And indeed, Mr. Babblefoot missed bowling. He wentto the bowling alley every day. Oh yes, you are wondering,
‘Why can’t he bowl?’ And the answer is very simple. He
has his right arm in a sling. Now there was actually nothing
wrong with his right arm, but he did not know this.
Junior was bowling today and was sure that the next onewould be a strike. He pulled back and let the bowling ball
loose.
“Look out,” yelled Bob Babblefoot to a nonexistent frog
he saw on the bowling alley. When the frog didn’t move,
Mr. Babblefoot ran out and stopped the ball, much to the
annoyance of Junior.
Junior used his bad news beanie belly on Bob
Babblefoot after a heated debate as to whether or not it was
going to be a strike and whether or not there was a frog
there.
“Thou art a fat, finite, flourishing fool,” declared Bob
Babblefoot, “to bully an injured man.” He then left in a
rage.
117. Stalls“I told you to stop stalling,” said the man with the beet
red face, for indeed it was redder than before.
“Well,” said the kid with the marvelous haircut, “There
is a point to this one.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Wait and see.”
“I’m tired of waiting through all this stalling!” declared
Redface.
“Oh shuteth thine nostrils, or thine mouth if thou
preferest, for there beith no stalling,” declared the girl withthe ponytail.
118. Over Arrest“Well?” asked Police Officer Jake.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” began George Khan, Chief of
Police, “We must find the person who is doing the stomach phenomenon and arrest him. Here are the reports by the
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victims.” George Khan, Chief of Police, handed Police
Officer Jake the file.
“Is Conrad in this one?” he asked.
“No, but Jimmy Sakarata and Bob Babblefoot are,” said
George Khan, Chief of Police.
119. Under ArrestThus was Joe Blow Junior arrested. He was soon
released after Conrad pointed out that he was not the same
man that belly bounced him. Conrad, of course, did not use
the term belly for no police man would be caught dead
saying belly.
“This isn’t him, boys. I done told ya he’s an adult.”
120. The NewsJim Match was watching TV when suddenly he noticed
a drawing of himself flash on the screen!
“Wow, I’m famous!” cried Jim Match excitedly. “I
can’t wait to tell my trucker buddies.”
“His Match,” said the announcer, “has recently been
putting to use a vile and dangerous weapon known as the
stomach phenomenon He’s dangerous and always armed,
so stay alert for this guy. Remember, if you have any clues,
call us at 1-800-GET-BADGUYS.” Little did Jim Match
know he was watching “America’s Most Wanted.”
121. Trucker Buddies“Jim, are you all right?” asked Jim’s trucker buddy,
Puck, sounding very unconcerned for Jim’s well-being.
“Yeah, I’m just fine,” replied Jim.
“Well, I saw you on “America’s Most Wanted” last
night,” said Puck.“Hey wait a minute there,” said Jim. “ “America’s Most
Wanted?” I didn’t know - hey you’re not going to turn me
in now are you? Don’t they give some kind of reward...”
“Well it shore is sad,” said Puck suddenly bursting into
a most uncalled-for fit of laughter!
“I don’t think it’s that funny,” muttered Jim.
“Course I ain’t gonna turn you in,” said Puck, “although
that’s not to say I won’t be tempted. I toldjah you was
gettin to be a bit violent with that belly o’ yours. But listen,
I’ve got a plan. The only way the cops really have to
identify you is your bad news belly. If you trim down a bit,
they’ll never know.”
“No more bad news belly?” asked Jim, aghast.“Sorry, pal. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” said
Puck consolingly. Thus started Jim’s diet.
122. The Video Tape (Part I)Bob returned home and thought about the video tape.
Finally he decided he would take his chances of getting
arrested for destroying evidence. Then he thought about the
jail cell and how cold and uncomfortable it was. Then he
thought about the masked men who kidnapped him. Then a
thought occurred to Bob. Maybe the masked men were the
ones who had robbed the bank!
But there were three masked men and only one bank
robber. Bob thought some more. Had he seen anyone that
looked like the bank robber? He had! And they guy turned
white and pale and passed out. Another guy took him to the back, and his voice sounded like the one of the masked
men’s voice. Bob decided that in order to get back at them
for kidnapping him he ought to turn in the tape.
123. The Video Tape (Part II)“So Zondus was thus banished from the kingdom of
Faleydalywaleykoboomalodamuchusgrasiusforlistening,”
said the announcer over the tape.“What kind of evidence is this?” asked George Khan,
Chief of Police.
“You put in the wrong tape. Here’s the evidence,” said
Bob Baloney taking the tape from the top of the desk and
putting it in the hand of George Khan, Chief of Police.
124. The Video Tape (Part III)George Khan, Chief of Police, watched Bob’s video
with a stupefied horror.
“That’s - that’s - that’s - what’s his name! The guy who
always cleans my shirts. Sam’s Cleaners, that’s where he
works. You know, he never did get that ketchup stain of my
uniform,” mused George Khan, Chief of Police. “I say we
arrest him.”
125. Mumblewd
Junior was very good at mumblewing. It was a specialart he had perfected that consisted of speaking, mumbling,
and blowing all at the same time. When Junior mumblewd,
no one could understand him.
“Hey Joey!” cried Jimmy. “Are you doing anything
after school today?”
“Ess i gota goo tuhthuh stur ith om,” mumblewd Junior.
“Well I’ll see you later then,” said Jimmy, much
offended at Junior’s mumblewing.
“Junior, it’s time to go to the store,” said Sally to her
son.
“Uggay emmie geh mah mooney,” mumblewd Junior.
Sally looked at him sternly.
“Speak up, son,” she said.“UGGAY EMMIE GEH MAH MOONEY,” mumblewd
Junior loudly.
Sally decided not to take Junior to the store after all.
126. The Giver of Teeth“Free teeth, now half off,” declared the man on the
roadside who was dressed in the proper attire of a hobo in
Conrad’s ear.
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Conrad whacked the man a good one with his cane.
Then he stopped to ask, “how much are they with the half
off deal?”
The “hobo” frowned at Conrad inquisitively. “What,
you a cop or something?” he asked. “What’s it to ya?”
Then he whacked Conrad back with the sack of teeth. Now
you may be thinking, I thought this was supposed to be awholesome family story. Well, it’s really not. Guess we
fooled you, didn’t we!
Conrad promptly arrested the Giver of Teeth.
Note, however, that the story does have consequences.
127. The Most Ferociously Exciting Day
at JailThe Giver of Teeth (who himself was toothless) glanced
at his tattered cell mates. Splinter was a hobo, like himself.
Abbub was a former restaurant owner with an attitude, and
the Keymaster was the Master of Keys, meaning he carried
many keys around with him.
“I say there,” said The Giver of Teeth to the Keymaster,
“why don’t you use some of those keys there to unlock us.”
“What a good idea,” said the Keymaster, “just let me
finish this game of solitaire first. I’m about to win.” The
Keymaster spent a long time playing solitaire. The Giver of
Teeth began to get suspicious.
“You almost done with that solitaire game?” he snarled.
“Almost,” said the Keymaster patiently. An hour
passed. “I won! I won!” cried the Keymaster excitedly.
“You did?” asked Splinter, awestruck.
“Wow!” exclaimed Abbub, who was eating a hedgehog
sandwich kindly stuffed inside a care package from Jonah.
In fact, the hedgehog sandwich was the only thing that wasinside, because the police officers (who thoroughly check
all care packages) wouldn’t allow the peacock inside the jail
cell.
“Now about those keys,” hinted the Giver of Teeth.“Yes,” said the Keymaster, reaching for his keys, when
suddenly Police Officer Jake entered, dragging three
masked men behind him. Thus the Keymaster was not able
to test his keys in the presence of the officer.
“Next time,” said the first masked man, “we’ve gotta
scram faster.”
“Hey, don’t be blamin’ me,” said the second masked
man.
“Me either,” said the third masked man. “In fact, you better just blame yourself.” So the three masked men were
in great enmity with each other. The Keymaster began a
new game of solitaire.
“Hey, about those keys,” hinted the Giver of Teeth to
the Keymaster.
“Yeah, just lemmie finish up this game of solitaire real
quick,” said the Keymaster. “I’m about to win.”
128. Another...“Hey there, fellahs, nice to see you again,” said the man
as he came in to the cell. The three unmasked men looked
at him.
“Hey lookie thar! ‘Tis that Keymaster’s bruder,” said
Sam changing accents.
“Hey there Sam, Tano, and M&M,” said the man, whowas indeed the Keymaster’s brother.
“They call me The Other Keymaster,” said The Other
Keymaster to the Keymaster.
“I know,” said The Keymaster, “You’re my brother
remember.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot,” said The Other Keymaster.
“Say, how about using one of those keys now,” said the
Giver of Teeth.The Keymaster tried all of his keys but none of them
worked.
“Hey, you’re using those keys backwards,” said the
Giver of Teeth.
“I knew that, I was just seein’ if anybodys wouldnotice,” said the Keymaster sheepishly.
He tried them in the other way, but none of them worked
again.
“Too bad they took up my toothpick,” said the
Keymaster.
“They didn’t take up mine,” said the Other Keymaster.
“Well use it then,” said the Giver of Teeth.
The Other Keymaster picked the lock and released his
brother, Splinter, Abbub, a few other prisoners and the
Giver of Teeth.
“Hey, what about us?” asked Sam, Tano, and M&M.
“Don’t release them, they got me caught,” said the
Keymaster.So they left them behind.
129. Pot BellyJim Match had been dieting for several weeks when he
decided to use an alternative method for getting rid of his
bad news belly.
“Puck, I’ve been dieting for three weeks, and I haven’t
lost my bad news belly,” said Jim to Puck.
“Well,” said Puck, “I always wondered how you got to
have such a big belly when you’re so skinny!”
“Oh, that’s easy,” said Jim Match, pulling a pot out from
under his shirt. “You never know when you’ll need a pot,you know,” he said triumphantly.
“Ah.”
“Well we’ve got that problem solved.”
“From now on, wear your pot on your butt.”
130. Bad News Butt
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Jim sat down in his truck. This was rather
uncomfortable, due to the fact that he had a pot strapped to
his butt.
“This is rather uncomfortable,” said Jim to Puck.
“I can see that,” said Puck to Jim.
“Perhaps I’ll just wear my pot on my head.”
“Yes, then it also makes a good hat,” Puck agreed. JimMatch, formerly His Match, put his pot, formerly the bad
news belly, on his head.
131. AimlessBob wandered aimlessly around the streets. This always
helped him to collect his thoughts.
“Here’s one,” said the garbage man.
“Thanks,” muttered Bob. “Next time don’t throw mythoughts away.”
“Hey, get those thoughts out of the gutter,” said the
garbage man.
Bob reached down and picked up his thoughts out of the
gutter. Then it began to rain.“Well, I’ve gotta go,” said the garbage man.
“Right. I guess I’ll collect my thoughts later,” said Bob.
He returned home with his thoughts, and stuffed them into
the plastic brain of his brainstorming machine. “I may need
these some day,” said Bob.
132. Junior and the Brown NosingIncident
Junior had heard that brown nosing was a great way to
get a good grade with Mr. Guttersnaks. Junior went outside
and rubbed his nose into the mud. He then went up to Mr.
Guttersnaks and rubbed his nose onto Mr. Guttersnaks’s pants leg. This did not please Mr. Guttersnaks.
“This does not please me, Mr. Blow,” said Mr.
Guttersnaks.
“Why not?” asked Junior.
“You are supposed to be in your seat, but you’re sniffing
my pants leg,” said Mr. Guttersnaks.
“I’m not sniffing, sir, I’m brown nosing,” said Junior.
“Well, take your seat,” said Mr. Guttersnaks.
“Yes sir,” said Junior. Mr. Guttersnaks resumed his
lesson.
“Now if we take the derivative of the speed of the ball
falling from the cliff, what will we have?” asked Mr.
Guttersnaks.“Velocity, sir,” said Jimmy.
“Very good, Mr. Sakarata,” said Mr. Guttersnaks. “And
if we take the second derivative of the speed of the ball,
what will we have?”
“Acceleration, sir,” said Junior.
“Very good, Mr. Blow,” said Mr. Guttersnaks. “Andwhat do we know acceleration to be?”
“We don’t, sir,” said Jimmy. Mr. Guttersnaks glared at
Jimmy.
“Incorrect!” he declared triumphantly. “We know the
acceleration of any object is 9.8 meters per second!”
“But sir,” protested Junior, coming to the rescue of his
friend, “That’s negating air resistance! It depends on the
density of the air, and we really ought to consider the windspeed and direction, and of course what planet you’re on.
But I derived a little equation last night that lets you
calculate all that, and I can write it on the board if you’d
like.”
133. AlaskaJim Match lifted the pot from his eyes.
“Where am I?” he asked, dazed. He pulled the truck over into a rest stop.
“Welcome to Anchorage!” said the sign. Of course, the
sign did not actually say anything, Jim simply read the
words printed on the sign.
“Alaska?” Jim questioned. “I’m supposed to be inOklahoma!”
“That’s what you get when you drive around with a big
pot on your head!” exclaimed a bystander who sold dogs.
“Would you like to buy a dog?” asked the bystander, who’s
name was Ugly Moe.
“Well, sure, since I’ve come all the way down here,”
said Jim Match.
“This dog is named Ramqui,” said the Ugly Moe, “and
she had a brother named Ralph, but I sold him to a lady
from the lower 48.”
“Ramqui is a sort of funny name,” said Jim suspiciously.
“Yeah, I know,” replied the Ugly Moe, toying with a
crowbar, “but I couldn’t think of anything else.” JimMatch, realizing that he no longer wore his bad news belly,
decided to leave the dog’s name at that.
“So what’s your name?” asked Jim suspiciously.
“Rusty,” Ugly Moe replied, and then added, pointing to
Big Mark standing next to him, “This is Blade.”Jim looked down at a rusty knife blade on the ground
between the two. “That’s an awfully suspicious name,” he
murmured.
“Yeah, well, I couldn’t think of anything else,” replied
Ugly Moe for the second time.
134. Sally’s Story“Joe, you want to read my story?” Sally asked Joe.
“Sure,” said Joe.
“C:\dos” said Joe.
“C:\dos\run” said Joe.
“run\dos\run” said Joe.
“That’s not my story,” said Sally. “That’s the computer
manual.”
“Oh sorry” said Joe.
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135. Sally’s Real Story
By: Sally Blow
“Ralph! We’ve been gone an hour! We have to get back.” For hours my
faithful dog and I searched for the tour group. Finally, I had to face
reality: we were hopelessly lost. Hungrily, I scarfed down my only food -
half a sandwich and a can of soda.
Cold. I tried to start a fire with my glasses and some damp twigs, but
was unsuccessful. I needed paper. Reluctantly, I ripped a page from my
most recent Boy’s Life magazine. I focused a beam of light on the paper
and got smoke, then slowly added twigs. Soon I had fire.Then snow came, icy and cold. It doused my fire and my hopes. I needed
shelter. I tied the corners of a garbage bag to some branches with the
string from an old yo-yo. Ralph and I huddled beneath the clumsy shelter.
The whole day we waited for the snow to stop. That night, I somehow fell
asleep. In the morning, Ralph woke me up. I was sleepy and numb from the
cold that had seeped into my bones. I knew what that meant: hypothermia.
In a jiffy I started another fire, melted some snow for water, and ate
some berries growing on a nearby bush. I cut apart the empty soda can andmade a crude signaling mirror from it. Hours later, I heard a helicopter. I
flashed the mirror and waved my scarf like crazy. We were finally rescued!
“Wow, what a great story!” cried Joe. Tears rolled down
his face. “It was so touching,” he gasped between sobs.
Sally was crying too.
“It’s beautiful!” she cried. “Just beautiful...” Just then
the phone rang.
“I’ll get it,” sobbed Sally.
“No I will,” sobbed Joe, rudely snatching the phone from
her.
“What do you want,” Joe wept into the phone.
“Uh...” said Bob on the other line. He could hear Sally’s
wails between Joe’s moans, and wondered if everything was
okay. “Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Joe, “Listen to this!” and let out another long
loud sob.
“I hear,” said Bob.
“No,” said Joe, reading, “I t-t-t-tried to start a f-f-fire
-*sob!*- with m-m-my glasses and -*gasp!*- some d-d-damp
twig-g-g-gs, but was -*boo-hoo!*- unsuccessful. I n-n-
needed -*wah!*- paper!” Joe broke off into a trail of tears.
“R-r-reluctantly,” Joe continued through his sobs, “I r-r-r-
ripped a puh-puh-puh-page from my m-m-m-most recent B-
b-b-oy’s Life magazine!” Joe could continue no more. He
buried his head in the phone and wailed.
“Gee, I’m sorry Joe,” said Bob. “I didn’t know Boy’s
Life was so important to you! Tell you what -” Bob was
beginning to feel rather desperate now, for Joe’s wails were
only growing the more intense for all his consoling - “I have
last month’s issue if you want it, I can give it to you!” Joe,
yet to re-gain control of himself, attempted to read yet
another section from the most touching story by Sally Blow.
“T-t-then snow k-k-came, icy and-d-d -*sob!*- cold. It
d-d-d-doused my f-f-f-fire and my h-h-ho-hopes. I n-n-n-
needed shel -*hic!*- shelter!” Joe paused again, beginning
to collect himself. “And this,” he continued: “In the mor-
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morning, R-r-ralph woke me up. -*snif!*- I was sl-sl-sleepy
and n-n-n-numb from the c-cold that had s-se-seeped into
my b-b-bones. I knew -*hic!*- what that meant:
hypothermia.” Joe was silent, waiting for the beauty of the
words to seep in to Bob’s slow brain. Bob didn’t say
anything.
“I’m waiting for the beauty of the words to seep intoyour slow brain, Bob,” said Joe.
“Well that may take a while,” said Bob. “If you give me
a copy, I’ll put it in.”
Later that evening Joe stopped by Bob’s house with a
copy of “Lost in Alaska” by Sally Blow. Bob wadded it up
and tossed it into his brainstorming machine with his other
thoughts that he had retrieved from the gutter.
136. Bob’s ProblemWhile Bob was having a major brainstorm, he noticed
his thoughts were getting soggy and leaking out of the brain
as the thoughts broke up and dissipated into tiny watery
pieces.“Hmm,” said Bob, “How am I going to remember my
thoughts now? Oh well, I guess my brain was getting full
anyway.”
“Well,” Bob answered himself, “I still oughta keep these,
and recycle them.” So Bob put a pot underneath the brain to
collect the watery pieces of thought.
137. ReleasedConrad walked into the prison room. “Well good news
for you guys, you’ve served your time and...” But they were
gone. Conrad glanced down at the sheet clipped to his
clipboard. “Well, looks like they all go free except for thesethree new arrivals, but they’re all gone!” Conrad, being
lazy, did not want to write them up for escaping and have to
go out and arrest them all over again, so he wrote on his
sheet, “released.”“There, that takes care of that!” he exclaimed, feeling
rather pleased with himself. The three unmasked looked at
him grumpily.
“So when do we get out?” asked Sam.
“As soon as the hacksaw arrives,” M&M unwittingly
replied, to which Tano quickly smacked him a good one.
“Oh,” said Conrad, not noticing M&M’s remark,
“You’ve got about ten years. Not too long. Hopefully
pretty soon I’ll be transferred to a different city and won’thave to put up with you!”
138. The PhatheadThey called him the Fathead. This was because nobody
liked him, but nobody wanted to hurt his feelings, except for
Bob Babblefoot.When he wrote checks, he would sign his name:
Phathead“Oh, hey, I’ve heard of you!” said the teller, “but I’ve
always thought it was spelt with an F.”
“No, that’s probably your latest grade,” growled the
Phathead, glad to correct this latest mistake which wasn’t
actually a mistake, but this was unknown to the Phatheadwhose real name was...
139. Gregory...was not actually the name of the Phathead. Ha! I sure
fooled you, eh?! Gregory was the Phathead’s dad. Gregory
was full of words of wisdom.
“Say Dad,” said the Phathead, “can you explain my math
homework to me?”
“Math homework, my son,” said Gregory, “is not meant
to be worn on the tunic. Only fools do wear it; therefore
cast it off.”
“Yes, Dad,” said the Phathead, pulling the homework
sheet from the secure position on his chest where his teacher
had so cleverly placed it. The Phathead always had trouble
remembering to do his homework.
140. Ye Olde EscapeesSplinter glanceth at his soiled companions.
“Shalt we lodge here until the morrow, preethee, I do
feel a chill in mine bones,” saith Splinter unto his traveling
fellows.
“Verily,” replieth the Giver of Teeth, “I liketh not the
looks of this dwelling.” The Giver of Teeth glanceth at the
sign adorning the door which readeth: The Vet of Aatrakas.
“Hast thou a reason to dislike such a place?” questioneththe Keymaster fiercely.
“Nay, I have not, only an omen that cometh from the
sky,” replieth the Giver of Teeth.
“What such omen, my good lad, hast thou?” requireth
the Other Keymaster.
“Look ye here,” respondeth the Giver of Teeth. He
showeth forth a sizable sum of bird poop. “This hath
landeth upon my bare head as I looketh upon the sign,” and
the Giver of Teeth gestureth towards the sign.
“Surely the omen speaketh falsely!” declareth Abbub, for
he believeth not in omens.
141. Bob’s ReplyBob decided to call Joe Blow and tell him he needed
another copy of the story.
“Hi, you’ve reached the Blow residence. If you are a
burglar, then we’re probably at home cleaning our weapons
right now and can’t come to the phone. Otherwise, we aren’t
at home and it would be a good idea to leave us a message,”
said Joe’s answering machine.
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“Hey Joe, this is Bob. I need another copy of the story
that your wife wrote. Thanks,” said Bob over the phone.
Joe picked up the phone.
“What’d ya do with the first one?” he snarled.
“Uhhh...” said Bob and hung up quickly, much afraid of
Joe’s wrath.
“Now what did he do that for?” Joe wondered, andquickly put a copy of Sally’s story in an envelope, stamped
it, and put it in the mailbox.
142. The Vet of Aatrakas Seeketh His
Revenge“What say ye, worn traveler,” sayeth the vet of Aatrakas
to Splinter, “wilt thou stay here this evening?”
Splinter remembereth not the anger wither the vet of
Aatrakas did formerly dealeth with him. He thus had no
foreboding of the revenge the vet seeketh.
“Yea, we wilt stay,” speakest forth Splinter. The vet of
Aatrakas noddeth evily.
“Thou speakest aright,” he answereth, and openeth the
door of his most humble abode, “ye merry wanders of the
night! Come, look upon your beds and smile, and I will a fat
and bean-fed horse beguile!”
“I likeith not,” mumbleth the Giver of Teeth. From the
cold room wither the five weary travelers did sleep, he could
hear the vet of Aatrakas neighing in the likeness of a filly
foal.
“This is too much even for me,” saith Abbub, arousing
from his slumber, “who once ran Coblin’s Cafe!”
“Look ye here,” saith the Keymaster earnestly, “we have
need of escaping.”
“Thou speakest aright,” frowneth the Other Keymaster dryly, drinking from a gossip’s bowl. Suddenly the bowl
jumpeth in his hands! The ale wast poured upon the Other
Keymaster’s withered dewlap, not to mentioneth his four
other companions. “Blasted roasted crab,” muttereth theOther Keymaster. Splinter picketh the crab apple from the
bowl and biteth it. The neighing of the filly foal stopeth,
and screaming filleth the ears of the five travelers.
“Preethee, friends, let us escape now,” sayeth Splinter.
But before they could moveth -
143. Math Homework The paper was torn at the edge, wrinkled, and dirtied.
The homework in the center was laced along the edges withlong and intricate descriptions of math class.
“Three people peered through the doorway, pointing,
gesturing, nodding; the yellow cord shone from its socket in
the wall, knowing the attention it was getting. Boredom
seeps into the atmosphere, but the yellow cord cares not.”
“Mathmematyical!” exclaimed Gregory. “My son, canyou not spell?”
“No, Dad, I can’t,” the Phathead admitted, his head hung
low. Fortunately his dad was farsighted and could not read
the small print surrounding the hastily scratched out
equations:
“The creeping boredom emits a stink that is highly
punctuated, but the teacher can not seem to notice it.
Neither do the other students. Oblivious to the suffocatingstench, they continue to pound their calculators with a
maddening regularity, click, click, click, “Oh yes! I got the
answer!” click, click. The foul odor is growing
impenetrable, it is darkening the air. I see it thicken into
hands and grab poor young Jimmy around the neck! Jimmy
gags silently, lays his head on the desk, and is still.”
The Phathead remembered that Jimmy was none too
fond of that description, for he was the one who graded the
Phathead’s homework. Somehow, the Phathead did not get
a very good grade on that homework assignment.
“The class fails to notice the subtle absence of Jimmy,
and the hands turn to a new victim. Joey is busily punching
the calculator, bang, bang, the pounding filling my burning brain. The hands hover silently above him, waiting for the
right moment.
“Jimmy, what’d you get for number—” He noticesJimmy’s pale, cold face a moment too late, and the hands of
boredom are at his throat, choking his screams into silence.”
Come to think of it, Joey was none to fond of the story
either, when Jimmy showed it to him. But that was not the
Phathead’s fault. If they chose not to like it, that was their
problem.
144. The Vet of Aatrakas Seekth More
Vengeance“Come,” said the vet of Aatrakas as he rose that sleepy
morrow, “and let us fish together.”
“Very well,” sayeth the worn travelers together.
“We shall fish for our supper,” saith the vet of Aatrakasas he handeth Splinter a sponge with hooks contained
therein, “squeeze the sponge to findeth the hooks and slay
the worms with them.”
Splinter got many a hole ‘n his merry fingers and
punctured them repeatedly. At length he succeeded and they
all went fishing.
Somehow everyone but Splinter caught a fish.
“I understandeth not,” saith the Vet of Aatrakas evily, for
he findeth himself unsuccessful in concealing his pleasure,“my lucky spongy hook hath always worked before. Now
go, all of you, on to thine separate ways.”
And they did just that.
145. The Story Reaches Its Long Lost
Destination to Which It Was Destined togo by Joe Blow and Co. and Many Moe
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“Hmm, junk mail, junk mail, junk, junk, junk, people
magazine, hey I got a letter from my good ol’ neighbor Joe
Blow. Wonder what it says.”
Hastily, Bob chewed off the top of the envelope.
“Hmm. Lost in Alaska. Who’s lost in Alaska? Some
guy named Ralph. Oh wait, this is the story, I’d better read
it.” While Bob was reading the story, Nasty Moe pulled into
the driveway. “Now this is 1234 Smith Street,” said Nasty
Moe, “this should be the place.”
146. Thou Carest Not For Me; Why
Should I Care For Thee?questioneth the Vet of Aatrakas to Splinter.
“What sayest thou? I carest not for thee?”
“Yea, that is what I said,” replieth the Vet of Aatrakas.
“Nay, thou hast been deceived.”
“How do ya figger that?” the Vet of Aatrakas snorteth
loudly. This outburst left Splinter quite abashed.
“Pardon my indolence, preethee,” he murmureth, a
maiden blush bepainting his cheek. “Tis only that you
started it, by giving improper care to mine wounded ankle.”
“Thine ankle,” the Vet of Aatrakas sneereth, “is but a
withering daffodil!” These brutal words proved more than
Splinter’s tender heart could bear. He turned and fled,
seeking refuge from the streaming torment of tears that were
sliding down his weathered cheeks.
147. Smelly Moerang the doorbell. Nothing happened. So he rang it
again. Nothing happened again. Now this did not please
Smelly Moe, but he was good at concealing inner rages, sohe rapped on the window, accidentally breaking it. Okay, he
wasn’t all that good at it.
148. Dirty Moelooked around uneasily as an angry Bob came to the
door and swung it open.
“What?” barked Bob, “did you break my window for?”
“Sorry, was an accident,” replied Dirty Moe.
“Well then, what do you want?” asked Bob.
149. What He Wants
“I want to tell you a secret message from our field agentsin Alaska,” said Dusty Moe.
“Come in, come in,” said Bob a bit more hospitality.
“The green cat ate the spherical orange,” said Dusty
Moe.
Bob, having learned that faking it was not the way
replied, “I’m not up to date on the new code, please speak
openly and plainly.”
“My cat, which I dyed green, ate a round orange,”
replied Dusty Moe.
“Oh, of course, and why are you telling me this?”
“I’m stalling for time until Unmasked get here.”
Just then the three masked men burst into the room.
150. Unmasked Has EscapedIt was very uncomfortable in the trunk of the car, and it
was a long trip to Alaska.
“Okay, boys,” said Reekin’ Moe, “Let’s get him into the
prison cell and you can have your last words with him.”
They took Bob, gagged and bound, out of the car and
dragged him into the prison.
“Vengeance is mine!” laughed Tano.
“No it’s not, it’s ours,” replied Sam.“Shut up, Sam,” said Tano, “and let’s go.”
151. A Look AroundInside the cell was enough food to live for a few months,
if it was eaten wisely. A large quantify of the food was
canned hedgehog, much to Bob’s delight.
“Why, how lovely!” exclaimed Bob. “I do so enjoy
canned hedgehog. Of course, the hedgehog sandwiches they
served at Coblin’s Cafe were much nicer than this, but hey,
you take what you can get...”
Also inside the cell was a thick pad of paper and a few
pencils.
“I’ve always wanted to take up art,” said Bob. And,
much to Bob’s delight, there was a cozy little cot in the
corner, fully furnished with an old-fashioned blanket.
“What a pleasant old-fashioned blanket,” mused Bob.
“It looks just like the one at my grandmother’s. Why, iteven has moth holes just like hers did!” Bob was suddenly
very nostalgic about his grandmother’s house. He snatched
up the pad and a pencil and made a quick sketch.
“I haven’t improved much since kindergarten,” Bobnoted, scrutinizing the scribbles. He put the paper down and
noticed the handy-dandy latrine in the corner, and a small
sink next to it.
“Well that’s a useful thing to have,” Bob said. Bob felt
very grateful in his heart that Slinky Moe and his three
companions had the compassion to provide such a nice
vacation spot for him.
152. A Month Later...Bob felt a bit tired with the place. It wasn’t all too
exciting.
He looked around and saw the door. He tried to open it,
but it was locked.
Suddenly Bob had a great flash on insight.
“Perhaps,” Bob mused aloud, “I am trapped.”
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Just then a wall caved in and the man behind it shouted,
“I’m free, I’m free! I’m...not free. Another cell, I knew I
shoulda broken down the wall with the door.”
“Greetings,” said Bob taking the friendly approach, “I
am known far and wide as Bob Smiley.”
“Hmm. Ain’t much to smile about here,” replied the
man gruffly, “I am known to myself as Fred Frank Frowner.”
“Hmm,” said Bob, “Well, how did you break this wall
down?”
“Oh that was easy, I just gradually chip away at all of the
mortar with my metal toothpick,” said Fred as he jumped
over the ruble to the other side, “then I gave it a mighty
shove.”
“And all along, I thought I was hearing a leaky faucet,”
remarked Bob.
“So what are you here for?” asked Fred Frank Frowner.
“Vacation,” retorted Bob. “What about you?”
“A simple peccadillo, ain’t it awful?”
153. ChocolateJonah dropped the chocolates off at Sarah’s front door.
He rang the doorbell and then scrambled to hide behind a
nearby tree.
Sarah opened the door. “Chocolates,” she murmured a
bit annoyed. Sarah hated getting presents, and she
especially hated chocolates. She picked them up and went
inside. Once inside, Sarah fed the chocolates to her cat.
Jonah waited about five minutes and then rang the
doorbell again. Sarah opened the door. “Did you enjoy the
chocolates?” Jonah asked.
“Yes, they were quite tasty. So it was you, huh? Thank
you for the chocolates, Jonah, I really enjoyed them, but Idon’t really like to get-”
Sarah was interrupted by the sound of her cat, which had
walked outside while she was talking, barfing.
“Hey, those look like the chocolates I gave you!” said
Jonah.“Er, well, I uh - shared them,” replied Sarah.
154. FloodWhen Bob woke up the next morning, he noticed
something particular. The room was filled with water. He
stood in it and noticed it was up to his feet. He then noticed
that it was hot water. “Ouch, ow eee!” yelled Bob as he jumped back into his bed. He looked around and saw the
problem. A pipe had broken when Fred Frank Frowner had
broken the wall.
“What’s the racket all about?” asked Fred.
“We’re being flooded, and all because of you!” yelled
Bob angrily.
155. Flutterbys
“Dad, I have to perform in the school play in two
weeks!” the Phathead exclaimed to Gregory, his dad.
Gregory laughed.
“What’s the matter son, you got butterflies in your
stomach?” he joked.
“Butterflies? No! At least, I never saw any fly down
there,” the Phathead replied.“Well, son, just practice,” said Gregory thus imparting
words of wisdom to his offspring.
The Phathead had a hard time getting to sleep that night.
156. Another DreamThe Phathead walked through the meadows, tulips
betwixt his toes. Beautiful swarms of butterflies flitted
about, delicately sipping nectar from the flowers. The sunshone brightly, warming the Phathead’s head as well as his
heart. A little too warm, the Phathead thought darkly, but
one could never be too picky. The beautiful colors of
flowers and flutters seemed to radiate from the field, and a
wonderful floral scent filled the Phathead’s nostrils. ThePhathead could only stand and admire the beauty, when
suddenly one of the butterflies noticed him.
“Let’s get im boys!” laughed the butterfly as they all
swooped up in beautiful formation.
“Ahh, no!” cried The Phathead holding his mouth shut,
but they pried it open and swarmed into his mouth. The dry,
flaky surface of their wings scraped against his esophagus
and the whole field of them dived into his stomach. They
fluttered about in a most sickening way in the poor young
Phathead’s now rather rounded belly. “No, no!” he cried, a
sob choking in his throat. He could hear a high-pitched
laughter coming from somewhere deep within him.
157. Look!“Look,” cried Fred Frank Frowner, “the mortar in the
wall isn’t water resistant! it’s dissolving!”
158. Jim Match and the Party of Four Jim Match was relaxing in a very snotty restaurant. So
snotty in fact, that they served snot candy in plastic noses.
He looked around at the other customers.
Sloppy Moe laughed loudly and replied to Sam, “That
oughta take care o’ ol’ Bobby boy.”
“Bobby boy?” asked Sam.
“Bob, the guy in the white house,” said Sloppy Moe.Jim match overheard this conversation. Was this Mafia
leader already in the white house. Did they take him out?
These questions needed to be answered.
“‘Scuse me, gents,” said Jim Match, “but I jeard you
talkin’ ‘bout my good friend Bob the hobo, and I was
wondering what you did with him.”The four men looked at each other uneasily.
“We ain’t talkin’,” said Sloppy Moe.
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“I see,” said Jim Match and he walked outside to his
truck and adjusted a bad news belly using a rounded cooking
instrument known commonly as a pot. Then he took out a
mouse tail that he had chopped off with a carving knife and
crazy glued it above his upper lip. Thus disguised, he
walked back inside.
“That was too easy for an ugly lookin’ guy like him,”Sam was saying.
“Shh, he’s back, and he’s put on a few pounds,” said
Sloppy Moe.
“Bet it’s one of those beanie bellies, you hardly hear
about them,” said Tano.
“And check out the dead mouse tail glued to his lip!”
exclaimed M&M under his breath.
“Bet he cut it off with a carving knife,” said Tano.
“Say, old fellows,” said Jim Match in his most
distinguished voice, “how about I buy you folks a drink,
eh?”
“No thanks,” said Sam, “Hey, haven’t I seen you
somewhere?”“Sure you have, you goon,” said Tano, “It’s the skinny
guy.”
“Hey yeah, I think he’s trouble,” said Tano. He pulledout a gun, holding it so that it pointed at his foot, “You’d
better leave us alone, buddy, or else, BANG! heh heh heh.
Now beat it.”
“Not until you tell me where Bob is, and by the way,
you’re holding that gun wrong.”
Sam adjusted the gun in Tano’s hand. “There now beat
it, scram, make like a tree and chestnut.”
“I believe the word is leave,” replied Jim.
“Can’t stand a smarty pants,” said Tano as he fired. The
bullet hit the pot, bounced off and hit a chandelier’s rope,which caused the chandelier to fall, trapping the party of
four and knocking the gun out of Tano’s hand. Meanwhile,
the blow knocked Jim Match out of a nearby window, where
he proceeded to leave in his big rig, also known as a truck.
159. Brain LightningThe thoughts in Bob’s brainstorming machine had grown
rather old, and similar to food left too long in the
refrigerator, it was beginning to take on a personality of its
own.
The brain hovered in the air, consistent of many
thoughts. It had found it had the ability to turn invisible
when necessary as it roamed the street. It yelled out wisesayings for all to hear, in a shoe store:
“ Just for Hands Gloves will soon be replacing this
store!”
And at the novelty salesman convention:
“Novelties are novel. Novelties are grand, novelties are
best for a big ham.”
So far it seemed fairly harmless. But eventually it turned
ugly. After doing so it felt rejected for whenever somebody
saw it they said something like:
“Ha ha! What an ugly brain that is levitating in midair.”
Soon the brain, in its infinite wisdom, wandered into a
carwash. It was soon clean and looking good, no longer so
ugly. The damage had been done, however, and the brainstorming machine was brainstorming ways to take over
Earth.
160. Chandelier Trouble“Have I seen you guys somewhere?” asked the detective
to the four men in the chandelier.
“No, I don’t think so,” replied M&M a bit nervously.
“Well, we’ll have to fingerprint you at the station, sinceyou tried to shoot someone and all.” The doughnut in the
officer’s hand quivered for a moment before it was gobbled
down.
So they were taken and fingerprinted. Soon, all was
figured out. All, that is, except for one thing...
161. What About Bob Baloney?“Well, the water has gone out of the cracks,” observed
Bob casually, “and if we kick the blocks out of place, since
the mortar is dissolved, we should be able to leave.”
“I’ll bet we’ve been framed though, they always do
something like that in this kind of situation,” said Fred.
“Then I’d better return home where it’ll be safe,”
declared Bob sagely.
“Good idea,” said Fred Frank Frowner as he nodded
wisely.
“And I’d also better not alert the police, lest I getarrested,” muttered Bob in deep thought.
“And likewise for me,” replied Fred casually.
Then a sudden insight hit Bob. What if the Blocks caved
in on whoever went under them? “You’d better go first,”said Bob to Fred Frank Frowner.
“What is this, some kind of trap?” snarled Fred Frank
Frowner.
“Uh, no!” said Bob nervously, “It’s just that I - uh - I’m
beginning to like this place, yes that’s it, and I was going to
stay for another day or two!”
162. Samantha’s Crocodile
Joe and Samantha had been moved to Alaska, JunoAlaska. While Conrad was out at work, Samantha was
enjoying the sewers. It had been tough moving her
crocodile without her husband seeing it.
Samantha looked lovingly down at her crocodile. “Bet
yer hungry, eh?” Samantha let out an evil laugh. “Bet you
want a nice tasty human, eh?” Samantha began to let outanother laugh, but it was caught in a rasping cough.
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“Stay right here, my precious,” she rasped. Then
Samantha jumped out of the sewer, showing off her great
agility, for Samantha loved showing off, and Samantha
especially loved showing off to her crocodile, who’s name
was Tick, which was short for ticklish teeth for Samantha
had always laughed when Tick bit her, which he didn’t often
do ever since she broke the rolling pin over his head.Roaming around the street for a moment she came across
Fred Frank Frowner. “Blizzard!” she yelled, “quick, jump
into the sewer where it’s safe!”
Fred and Samantha jumped into the sewer. “Oh no, a
crocodile!” cried Fred.
“Heh heh heh,” laughed Samantha. Tick gobbled up Fred
Frank Frowner without bothering to chew. Then he spit him
out, for Fred Frank Frowner hadn’t washed in months. Fred
ran out of the sewer.
“Must be the police,” he mumbled to himself.
163. The Paper Conrad put down the newspaper, highly disgusted.
“Those three, always doing something rotten... Well, I’m
glad I was transferred from Aatrakas before they escaped, at
least I don’t have to deal with them.” Just then the phone
rang.
“Wadda ya want,” Conrad asked in a bored voice.
“Conrad!” barked George Khan, Chief of Police, on the
other line.
“Yes sir!” said Conrad, suddenly more responsive.
“I have news for you, Conrad,” said George Khan, Chief
of Police.
“Yes, I know,” Conrad sighed. “Those three escaped.”
“Buzz, buzz,” growled George Khan, Chief of Police.
“That’s old news. We caught them last night.”“Really?” said Conrad.
“Yes. Let’s go head banging,” said George Khan, Chief
of Police. “I heard that the new group, Dead Flyswatters, is
having a concert in Alaska. We can go on my day off.”
“You’re coming to Alaska?” Conrad questioned,suddenly frightened.
“Why yes,” said George Khan, Chief of Police, “and
when we go head banging, I get to bang your head against
the wall. See you tomorrow!” *Click*
164. The Hobo Party
“I say it’s time we have a hobo party,” said Splinter tohis traveling companions.
“Oh, goodie!” exclaimed Blister, who (as a professional
hobo) was familiar with hobo parties.
“Do we get spit plea soup?” asked the Giver of Teeth
excitedly.
“It wouldn’t be a hobo party without spit plea soup!”
declared Splinter.
“Uhh... What’s spit plea soup?” questioned Abbub
nervously.
“Well,” said Splinter.
“It’s really quite simple,” declared Blister. “Everyone
brings a can of their favorite kind of soup, and we cook
them all together in a big pot.”
“The result is really quite delicious,” assured the Giver
of Teeth to Abbub.
“Why is it called “spit plea” soup?” asked theKeymaster.
“Because,” said Blister, “once you taste it, you’ll be
pleading for more.”
“Ah,” said the Keymaster, “Of course.”
“Well, I say we do it,” said the Other Keymaster to the
rest.
“We’ll hold the party at 1234 Smith Street,” said
Splinter to his friends. “I’m sure Bob won’t mind, seeing
how he’s out of town at the moment,” Splinter added under
his breath. The five friends split up to get the soup and
garnishes.
165. Splinter’s ResponsibilitySplinter realized he had a big responsibility. He was the
host of the hobo party, and a hobo party was no small thing
to a hobo. This party would take some careful planning,
which Splinter was never very good at.
“Hey there he is!” exclaimed a voice excitedly,
interrupting Splinter’s thoughts. Splinter turned to see an
unkempt looking man hurrying towards him. “I’ve been
looking for you for the last hundred and twelve chapters!”
“Oh have you,” muttered Splinter.
“I finally got all the splinters out of my back,” the man
continued.
“Oh have you,” muttered Splinter.
“And I’ve kept your board just in case,” he added.“Oh have you,” muttered Splinter.
“And I had a fellah named His Match look for you, truck
driver you know,” he continued.
“Oh have you,” muttered Splinter.
“And I’ve been searching and searching,” continued theman,
(“Oh have you,” muttered Splinter,)
“And now I’ve found you!” he finished joyfully, and
lovingly embraced the weathered hobo.
“Oh have you,” muttered Splinter.
“Not for long you haven’t,” Splinter gleeked, and
dodged into a nearby grocery store. He saw Blister
conversing with the manager, so he hid from the strange manin the bathroom.
166. The Blister in Soup’s HeartBlister was quite good at spit plea soup. He headed to
the nearest grocery store.
“I’d like your soup, please,” said Blister to the store
manager.
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“What kind can I get you sir?” the manager asked
politely.
“The kind with the labels pulled off,” said Blister.
“Ah,” said the manager, and rushed to the soup aisle. He
pulled of the labels of all the soup cans, tossed them in a
grocery cart, and brought them to Blister. (Needless to say,
the manager was new at this.) “That will be $174, sir,” saidthe manager.
“You can’t charge me for un-labeled cans!” exclaimed
Blister. “That’s unlawful.”
“It is?” exclaimed the manager, horrified.
“Yes. In fact, any cans with out labels must be thrown
away,” said Blister, “or they can be given to a hobo
attending a registered hobo party.”
“Oh,” said the manager quietly, for he was close to tears.
“Well, I don’t want to throw them away... Where can I find
a hobo?”
“I know of one!” exclaimed Blister joyfully. The
manager’s face lit up.
“You do?”“Why, yes indeed!”
“Could you bring these to him?” the manager asked.
“Of course,” Blister said, and took the grocery cart withhim, for a grocery cart can be a useful thing to a hobo due to
the fact that it travels well on railroad tracks.
167. The Garnisher of TeethThe Giver of Teeth swung his bag ‘o teeth in a semi
circle. The semi circle was his favorite shape, and he could
often be seen swinging his bag about in this manner.
Suddenly, his teeth flew out of the bag, for it was not a
sturdy bag. “Drat,” muttered the Giver of Teeth as Bom
Valonea took a toothful shower.“Hey, can I have those back?” he asked to the lovely and
beautiful and rotten-teeth covered Bom Valonea.
“You horrid - horrid - thing you!” she cried, flinging the
teeth back. The Giver of Teeth gathered them up eagerly.
“This gives me an idea of what to bring to the hobo party,” the Giver of Teeth chuckled. But before he could
make a move, he was met by a very angry Dan. Dan flung
him into a ditch.
“Teech ya tah mess wid mah garl!” he snarled as he took
Bom Valonea in hand and led her away. The Giver of Teeth
was not too pleased with this development, but he had work
to do. He had a hobo party to attend. He stooped to gather
the rest of his teeth, but before he could make a move, hewas met by a very angry Ruth Valonea.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she snarled.
“Gatherin’ mah teeth,” replied the Giver of Teeth
modestly.
“Oh,” said Ruth. “Do you need any help?”
“Well shore,” said the Giver of Teeth, and they gathered
teeth together. “Say,” said the Giver of Teeth, upon
reflection, “do you know where 1234 Smith Street is?”
“Yes, that’s where Bob Baloney lives!” exclaimed Ruth.
The Giver of Teeth nodded, then began gathering
vegetables.
“These would make some good garnishes for the soup!”
declared the Giver of Teeth.
“What soup!” declared Ruth.
“Spit plea!” declared the Giver of Teeth.“I want some!” declared Ruth.
“Fine with me!” declared the Giver of Teeth. All this
declaring was making the Giver of Teeth very tired, for it is
hard to declare without any teeth. He took a short nap.
Ruth tapped her foot impatiently. The Giver of Teeth woke
up, and Ruth led the way to Bob’s house.
168. The Key to Mastering ManagersThe Keymaster jingled his vast collection of keys
nervously. He checked his money. He had but thirty-seven
cents, mostly in pennies. He hurried to the nearest grocery
store.
“Can I help you?” asked the manager a bit fearfully.“Perhaps you can, perhaps you can,” the Keymaster said
in a low and dangerous voice, and turned around to cruise
the store. The manager kept a close eye on him. The
Keymaster slid to and fro across the aisle labeled “soup” but
could not find any soup. Finally, he returned to the
manager.
“I would be needin’ some soup, ya see,” he said in the
same low and dangerous voice, being sure to keep his hat
low over his eyes just in case the manager had seen his face
on the news.
“Well I don’t be havin’ no soup, ya see,” snapped the
manager. The lost soup wound was still festering in the
poor kid’s heart, and the Keymaster could feel the festering.“Don’t cha be festerin’ now,” said the Keymaster
consolingly. “I’ll gitcha some soup.” The Keymaster let out
a loud and evil laugh.
“BWAH, HA, HA, HA, HAHaHahaha!” he laughed
gutturally. “Soup! Pour old soup! BWAH, HA, HA, HA,HAHaHahaha!”
From that day on, the manager was known as “Soup.” It
became such a problem that the poor lad (who was formerly
known as Amos) had to have his name changed.
“Come along, Soup!” declared the Keymaster. “Yur
commin with me to a hobo party!” The Keymaster calmly
drug Soup out the door.
“But - but - I don’t want to go to a hobo party!” whinedSoup nervously.
“You ever had spit plea soup?” hissed the Keymaster in
Soup’s ear.
“No, sir,” Soup hissed back.
“Well come along then!”
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169. Joey Meets the Other and the Other Meats Joey
The Other Keymaster was having a hard time finding
Smith Street. Shoeless and Soupless, his only possession a
toothpick, he wandered about the calm residential area, a
purple despair slowly settling over him. Purple was a nice
color for despair, the Other Keymaster had always thought,
because it was a cross between red and blue. Finally, a little
kid noticed the Other Keymaster.
“Hmm,” mused Joey to himself, “Mom and Dad always
said not to talk to strangers.” So he got a notepad and wrote
on it: HEY MR R U LOST?“Heymur rulost?” asked the Other Keymaster. “What
does that mean?”
Joey sighed and shook his head. This time he wrote it
out.
“Oh yeah!” exclaimed the Other Keymaster. “I am lost.
How do I get to Smith Street?” Joey was not sure of the
answer. He wrote on the paper: WAIT HERE. Then he
went home.
Joe and Sally Blow escorted the Other Keymaster to
1234 Smith Street, and as they had no soup, they brought
salt and cayenne pepper.
170. Abbub at the PubAbbub knew where the best food could be obtained.
Without any hesitation, he traversed to Coblin’s Cafe.“What kind of stuff are you people serving here now-a-
days?” he asked Jonah.
“Our special,” said Jonah proudly, “is hedgehog with soy
sauce or a gargling peacock.”
“Well,” said Abbub, casually putting his hands in his pockets, “well.” For Abbub had suddenly realized that his
pockets were empty, and he had no money.
“What can I get you?” asked Jonah.
“I’ll tell you what,” said Abbub with the air that he was
giving Jonah a really great deal, “You can come to our hobo
party if you bring the hedgehog and gargling peacocks.”
“Hobo party?” asked Jonah.
“You ever had spit plea soup?” asked Abbub.
“Uh, no...” said Jonah.
“Well then you’d better come!” declared Abbub. So
Jonah gathered up his hedgehog sandwiches and soy sauce,
Sarah led the seven gargling peacocks, and Abbub switched
the sign on the door from “Yes we’re open!” to “Sorry,we’re closed.”
171. Beware, Lest I Stop the Truck andExit the Railroad
Blister pushed his cart down the railroad tracks,
whistling a happy tune. Just then, he heard someone
coming.
“Somebody’s commin’!” he blurted out gently. Quickly,
he pushed his cart off the tracks, being careful not to tip over
the soup. But he was not quick enough. Jim Match
slammed on the brakes of his big rig and hollered:
“Watcha think yur doin?” out the window.
“I’m go-enng to the ho-bow par-tee!” said Blister with
his eyes closed and wearing his most dignified look.“A hobo party!” exclaimed Jim Match. This would be
the place to find Bob the hobo, Jim reasoned.
“I’ll follow you,” said Jim Match to Blister.
“Verr-ie well!” declared Blister, and led the way. Jim
Match cranked the wheel around and did one of those
beautiful driving maneuvers that only truck drivers can do.
“That was beautiful!” exclaimed Puck, Jim’s trucker
buddy, who was sitting beside him.
“Only a truck driver,” said Jim Match modestly.
“Absolutely,” agreed Puck.
172. The Director “I wonders whereabouts that Bob Baloney fellow is,”
muttered the director. “It’s awfully hard to do a movie
without him. Maybe I’d better go check on him.”
173. The Brave Owl“That sure is a brave owl,” sighed Fred Frank Frowner
as he looked at the owl staying motionless on the top of a
large sign, not to be mistaken for a sigin, and also commonly
known as a billboard.
The Storm raged on and on and the owl stood still. Fred
drank another bowl full of soup as he watched the owl.
“Who, who,” called out Fred, “wants to share soup with me?
Maybe mister owl?!”Then the billboard’s ladder was struck by lightning and
the owl started to fall.
“Fly, fly,” cried Fred pitying the poor owl. He raced
toward it, but it had fallen to the ground. He picked it upand cried out, “Oh no! It has become petrified,” for indeed
the owl was now made of stone, as it had always been, but
Tick didn’t know that, and when Fred had gone on his way
Tick devoured the owl and choked on it.
174. Samantha’s New Pet“Well, that alligator was a pain to lug around, and he
was especially hard to fit in that suitcase, but I’ll miss him.”
Samantha looked at the leech on her leg. “Maybe this will be my new pet, like it was before when I dealt with that
hobo in our house! Yeah, that’s a good idea!”
175. Giggle PensI’m not sure what the price of a giga pet is in other
places, but in Aatrakas ILL. they cost $250.00. Naturally,
they were a huge hit among the youngsters. So when a new
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commercial came on a TV channel only parents watch, the
parents were only too happy to listen.
“Your kid want a giga pet for his or her birthday?” asked
the announcer.
“Yeah,” muttered Gregory, “but I can’t afford one.”
“They’re a bit expensive, aren’t they?” asked the
announcer.“Yeah,” muttered Gregory.
“How about pretending you thought they said they
wanted a giggle pen. They’re only $3.50! Come on down
to Alaska and get one!” joyously declared the announcer.
“What a great idea,” said Gregory as he wrote down the
address. He then got into his pickup truck and began the
drive to Alaska.
176. Bob Leaves Too“Well, I reckon I ought to leave,” said Bob, and he did.
He walked for several miles until he met a Samantha
Conrad, who was holding a leech in her hand and screaming
something about blood treatment and leach saliva. Notwanting to be a victim of circumstance he quickly jumped
into the back of a slow moving truck, where he fell asleep,
soon to find himself in Gregory’s driveway.
177. Fred Frank Frowner Gets a RideFred Frank Frowner was still mourning over the poor,
pathetic, petrified owl. He walked along the side of the side
of the dusty dirt driveway, a sad, sincere sigh escaping from
his lovely lustrous lips. Just then, a beautiful, boisterous
blue truck cleverly crept into conception, and Fred Frank
Frowner jumped on.
“Hey!” bellowed Bob bravely, “I’ve seen you before!”Gregory grimaced grimly as his truck bounced about.
“I don’t understand,” he mumbled moodily. “I’m drivin’
real slow. Could the shocks be that bad?”
178. The Phathead’s Gift“Hey!” cried Gregory angrily. “There’s a hobo in the
back of my truck!”
“I’m no hobo,” frowned Bob. “I have a house.”
“Sure you do,” snorted Gregory.
“Yeah, 1234 Smith Street, in Aatrakas if you’ve ever
heard of that,” Bob challenged, hoping that this strange and
angry man would bring him home and he could prove to him
that he did, indeed, have a house.“Well, stay right here, I gots ta give my kid his birthday
present.” He got up and went into his front door. In a
moment the eager tearing of wrapping paper could be heard,
then a terrible fearful frightful awful appalling dreadful
horrid sobbing could be heard. Gregory came outside again
and ran into the truck.“Ouch!” cried Gregory as he hit the truck. He then got
into the back and drove Bob home.
179. 1234 Smith StreetSplinter was the first to arrive at 1234 Smith Street, for
he decided it would be a good place to hide from the strange
man who had found him in the bathroom at the grocery
store. Unfortunately, the strange man found him at 1234
Smith Street also.“Don’t you remember me?” Griffen exclaimed.
“Uh, well...” Splinter stalled. “Uh, YES! Of course I
remember you,” Splinter lied.
“Well then why did you keep running away from me?”
asked Griffen in a hurt tone.
“Uh, run away?” Splinter stuttered. “I wasn’t running
away! I was leading you here, yeah that’s it, so you could
come to our hobo party!”“Oh, boy!” said Griffen. “Uh, what’s a hobo party?”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me your name,” Splinter
negotiated.
“Okay,” said Griffen, “my name’s Griffen. What’s
yours?”“My name’s Splinter, and if you want to know what a
hobo party is, just wait and see.” Just then the Keymaster
burst through the door, dragging Soup behind him.
“Look!” exclaimed the Keymaster, “I brought Soup!”
“Well how-de-doody, Soup,” said Splinter, “I’m
Splinter, and this here is Griffen, or so he says.” Soup
glared back in reply. Then Ruth burst through the door, and
the Giver of Teeth tottered in after her.
“Where’s Bob?” asked Ruth.
“On vacation,” replied Splinter. “Who are you?”
“That’s none of your business,” snapped Ruth. Then
Blister pushed in the grocery cart of soup cans, making some
nice tidy little lines on the carpet, followed by Jim Matchwho was followed by Puck.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” said Ruth, “let’s make a
welcome home banner for Bob and wait until he gets back!”
“What a great idea, have fun,” said Splinter.
“That is a great idea,” said Jim Match very muchsuspecting that the Mafia hobo would be Bob. Ruth
rummaged round about and found some paper, but could
find no writing utensils.
“I guess I’ll have to use the computer,” said Ruth, and
she did. As she was working, the other guests arrived: the
Other Keymaster, Joe Blow, and Sally Blow.
“Bob should be here soon,” commented Joe, who was
getting tired of waiting. So Splinter turned out the lights andthey all waited in the hushed darkness to surprise Bob.
180. Bob Arrives HomeGregory was unable to pull into Bob’s driveway because
Jim Match’s truck was in the way.
“Looks like you’re havin’ a party!” pronounced Gregory.
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“Yes,” said Bob, smiling modestly, for he was well
aware that he did not know what was going on, “and you’re
invited! And Fred Frank Frowner too, of course.”
“Fred Frank Frowner?” questioned Gregory nervously.
“You can call me Fred,” said Fred, crawling out of the
back of the truck.
181. The Arrival of The Director “Bob, where have you been lately?” asked the director
angrily.
“I was kidnapped and all, but all is good now, why don’t
you join the party?” asked Bob.
“Why, I believe I shall,” replied the director. Bob
looked nervously toward the door.
“Um, you go in first,” said Bob.“Okay,” said the director. “Tell Gerlando and Bubba
that they can come out of the car now.”
Bob went to the car and tapped on the window.
Gerlando and Bubba peeked out.
“Is it safe?” hissed Bubba.“Probably,” countered Bob.
The two young actors belly-crawled to the house,
following their bold and fearless leader. Fred crept behind
them, and Gregory behind him. Bob followed last, greatly
affeared by the haphazard appearance of his house.
182. EntranceThe tension in the air was so thick that Splinter could
bite into it.
“Ow!” cried Splinter loudly, for he had mistaken his
tongue for the tension. He clapped his hand over his mouth,
remembering to keep silent. “Ow ow ow,” he mumbledquietly.
The director cautiously went down the stairs, a heavy
darkness greeting him below. He could feel the warm,
threatening presence of humans in suspense.“It’s not him,” he whispered to the darkness. Annoyed
groaning ensued, someone flicked on the lights and the
director could see cameras lowering in disappointment.
“But he’s coming,” he added. Quickly, the lights were
flicked back off, and the tense silence darkened the room
once more.
Gerlando and Bubba belly-flopped down the stairs, a
heavy darkness greeting them below. They were too
concerned with the bruises they were receiving on their bodies to notice the thick, dark silence that enveloped the
chasm below. Suddenly, Bubba lost his balance and rolled
down the stairs!
“OWWWW!” screamed Gerlando in agony as Bubba
landed on his head. Bubba scrampled off of his fellow
actor, lunging toward the gaping tenseness in the room
below. He was quickly devoured by it. Gerlando paused in
the doorway, wondering what had become of the poor
entertainer. Then he too foolishly entered the thirsty jowls
of the thickening silence.
Bob stood in front of his house, watching Fred and
Gregory disappear through the door. He was mildly
worried, wondering what had happened to Gerlando to cause
him to scream bloody murder, and why the others had not
returned. He waited tensely, anticipating an arrival, butwhen he could wait no longer, Bob too entered the house.
183. Entrance ContinuedBob trembled down the stairs, and trembled at the
landing. He could feel the dark tension lurking beyond the
doorway, but he knew he must enter to save the five before
him. But he was ready. Bob pulled the Crookes tube out of
his shirt pocket, knowing that there was a vat of acidsomewhere around there. If that didn’t work, he always had
his electric cattle prod. He stepped into the room bravely.
“SURPRISE!” cried the guests, except for Gerlando and
Bubba, who were bound and gagged in a corner (no one
wanted them to spoil the party). Splinter turned on thelights. Bob flourished his cattle prod.
“Don’t move!” he hissed harshly, jabbing at Splinter
with the prod turned off.
“You’ll never get away with this you cattle smuggler!”
The two glared at each other for a moment. Then Bob
noticed the soup.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Spit plea soup,” scowled Splinter.
“Welcome home Bob!” said Ruth. “Do you like the sign
I made on your computer?”
“It’s nice,” said Bob.
“Well!” declared Blister. “Shall the party begin?” And
so it did. The Giver of Teeth dished up soup, offering teethfor aid in digestion. Jonah spread soy sauce on the
hedgehog sandwiches, and Sarah directed the seven gargling
peacocks in melody to Mozart’s “Turkish March.” Bob
turned on his “Sailboat Journey” CD, for the gargling
peacocks were a bit harsh, and everyone enjoyed the spit plea soup.
184. The Taming of the Shrink i
Act I
Setting: The living room of 1234 Smith Street during a
large and rambunctious hobo party. “Sailboat Journey”
music is playing.[Enter The Shrink of Aatrakas ]
Shrink : I seest that thou art making merry.
Splinter : Lookest, friends, ‘tis the vet of Aatrakas!
Shrink : I am no vet, art thou blind?!?! [Hits
him]
I am a shrink, that is clear to see!
Bob: Yea, verily, but it is not clear here in the sea!
Shrink : I’ll not take this! Floundered hound, I’ll make thee
clear! [Hits him]
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Gregory: You’d best beware; the Shrink of Aatrakas is curst
indeed.
Splinter : That seems plain.
Gregory: Aye, but have you a malady, and you’d best see
him.
Splinter : Why, for the life of me, I’ll not see him!
Blister : He’s too rough for me.Gregory: Gentlemen, importune me no farther,
For how I firmly am resolved you know:
That is, not to bestow my doctoring skills
Before I have a patient for the Shrink.
Shrink : I pray you, sir, is it your will
To make a stale of me amongst these patients?
Blister : Patients, shrink? How mean you that? None for you,
Unless you were of gentler, milder mold.
Bob [aside]: I believe this shrink needs be tamed.
[To
Gregory]
I am a gentleman of Aatrakas, sir,
That, hearing of the Shrink’s wisdom and wit,His kind manners and expertise in profession,
His wondrous qualities and mild behavior,
Am bold to show myself a forward guestWithin my house, to make mine eye the witness
Of that report which I so oft have heard.
Gregory: Very well, sir, you may see the Shrink.
[Exunt all but Bob and Shrink, as fast as can be]
Shrink : So telleth me of thine problems.
Bob: Uhh... well...
Shrink : Well? I foresee that thine problems are deep, dark,
and wet.
Bob: Deep and dark they may be,
But wet we’ll never see.Shrink : That I’ll try. [Pours bucket of water on him]
Bob: I swear I’ll cuff you, if you wet me again.
Shrink : So may you loose your arms. [Pulls out knife]
Bob: Husht, master, here’s some good pastime toward.
That shrink is stark mad or wonderful forward.
Shrink : What say thou?
Bob: Never mindeth. Preethee, let us outside.
[Exunt]
Act II
Setting: Driveway of 1234 Smith Street
Bob: How bright and goodly shines the moon!
Shrink : The moon? The sun. It is not moonlight now.
Bob: I say it is the moon that shines so bright.Shrink : I know it is the sun that shines so bright.
Bob: Now, by my mother’s son, and that’s myself,
It shall be moon, or star; or what I list,
Or ere I journey out-of-doors. --
Go on, we shall go back again--
Evermore crossed and crossed, nothing but crossed!
Shrink : Foward, I pray, since we have come so far,And be it moon, or sun, or what you please;
And if you please to call it a candle,
Henceforth I vow it shall be so for me.
Bob: I say it is the moon.
Shrink : I know it is the moon.
Bob: Nay, then you lie. It is the blessed sun.
Shrink : Then, God be blest, it is the blessed sun.
But sun it is not when you say it is not,And the moon changes even as your mind.
What you will have it named, even that it is,
And so it shall be so for the Shrink of Aatrakas.
Bob: Well, foward, foward, thus the bowl should run,
And not unluckily against the bias.
But, soft! Company is coming here.
[Enter Splinter]
[To Splinter] Good morrow, gentle mistress. Where
away--
Tell me, learned shrink, and tell me truly too,
Hast thou beheld a fresher gentlewoman?
Such war of white and red within her cheeks!
What stars do spangle heaven with such beautyAs those two eyes become that heavenly face?--
Fair lovely maid, once more good day to thee.--
Good shrink, greet her for her beauty’s sake.
Shrink : Young budding virgin, fair and fresh and sweet,
Whither away, or where is thy abode?
Happy the parents of so fair a child!
Happier the man whom favorable stars
Allots thee for his lovely bedfellow!
Bob: Why, how now, Shrink? I hope thou art not mad.
This is a man, old, wrinkled, faded, withered,
And not a maiden, as thou sayst he is.
Shrink : Pardon, old father, my mistaking eyes,
That have been so bedazzled with the sunThat everything I look on seemeth green.
Now I perceive thou art a reverend father.
Pardon, I pray thee, for my mad mistaking.
Splinter : ‘Tis no matter. But I do feel
A maiden blush bepainting my cheek.
Hence will I to my ghostly father’s cell,
His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. [Exit
Splinter]
Shrink : Help, I’m slipping!
Bob: I’m getting out of here!
[Exit Bob, as fast as can be]
[ Exit Shrink, slipping]
Act IIISetting: same as Act I
[Enter Shrink ]
Splinter : Lookest, friends, ‘tis the Shrink of Aatrakas!
Shrink : Nay, Shrink am I no longer;
For now I am a vet, none wronger.
I have been humbled, ‘tis true,
And sing a new tune I do.
Splinter : How comest this marvelous change?
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“Now you’re gonna die,” he snarled to Jason. Jason gazed
at Flattop with upturned wandering eyes, Bambi eyes.
“Well, okay, so you won’t really die, but you’ll get it real
good,” said Flattop. And then Flattop and Jason began to
fight. Unfortunately for our hero, Jason had the upper hand.
Until Rounda joined the fight, that is. With one fell swoop,
Rounda had Jason knocked to his feet. Then she begansmashing her small rounded fists into his face.
“If you’re such a good fighter, why didn’t you beat up Jason
a long time ago?” asked Flattop.
“Good question,” said Rounda, and when she had finished
with Jason she beat up Flattop.
189. Liquid LifeCarl looked around. Where could Flattop be. “Stupid
kid,” he murmured. “Probably somewhere eating hedgehog
sandwiches with soy sauce. Hey! I know where to get
those,” said Carl as he felt a rumblin’ in his stummy (slang
for stomach/tummy).
“What’s it gonna be?” asked Sarah.“I’ll have a few gargling peacocks to go with a hedgehog
sandwich,” replied Flattop casually.
“With or without soy sauce?”
“The peacocks, or the sandwiches?”
“Both.”
“Hmm. No soy sauce for the peacocks, but some for the
sandwiches.”
“What shall the peacocks gargle then?” asked Sarah.
Flattop thought carefully. “Maybe just some sulfur-”
“What!!?” yelled Jonah, who had come into the room.
“-water,” finished Flattop.
“Oh,” said Jonah, and went to get some.
Carl burst into the room. “Quick, where’s Flattop?” heasked hastily.
“Righta heres, boss. Cares fors eh pearl?” asked Flattop.
“Flatty!!” cried Carl, “what’s it mean when your sister
says, ‘Hey, Carl, look at my mustache?’ to yas?”
“Hmm,” said Flattop, “seemses t a me’s, thats itsameanes shes in loves with tha guy naxt ta her, to her left,
named Bob, yas, that’d hafta be is name, if she said
mustache, now if shes a saidses fingernail hairs, his name
would be Joe, as in Joes Conrad.”
“That reminds me, I’ve got a meeting,” said Carl. “Se ya
round.”
“Yas, and I’llsa sees yas square.”
“Gimme anoder shot o’ that liquid life stuff,” said a notvery sober Flattop.
“I think you’ve had enough for today,” replied Sarah.
190. The Meeting“So, Carl, what can you tell me about this?” asked
George Khan, Chief of Police.
“Well, we’ve been getting a few reports in.” Carl handed
George Khan, Chief of Police the documentation.
“Hmm,” George Khan, Chief of Police mused as he
studied the papers. “Seems to me that...” He squinted at the
page he was holding, shook his head, and pulled a pair of
reading glasses out of his front pocket. He adjusted them on
the bridge of his nose and squinted at the page again. “It
seems to me that the rate law of a chemical reaction can only
be determined experimentally but the rate law holds true for any reaction, regardless of concentration, but... ah, here’s
the catch, the constant k can change with temperature!”
“Oh, sorry,” Carl mumbled, snatching the paper out of
George Khan’s hand. “Wrong documentation.” Carl made
a hasty retreat to get the correct papers.
191. Roundtop“Yas can’t be callin’ be Flattop no mor,” said Flattop to
Carl when he stormed into Coblin’s Cafe, “cuz I jus got an
haircut.” And sure enough, Flattop’s once flattened haircut
had been mercilessly butchered into what looked like a
mangled hedgehog.
“Fine then,” snapped Carl, “I’ll call you Roundtop.”“Yas, dad be fine,” said Roundtop, still recovering from
the last bout of Liquid Life.
192. The Evil Nemesis“Well, Brain,” said Jason, “I think we can take over the
world together.”
“Your theory is very interesting,” said the brainstorming
machine, “but what is your name?”
“Just call me... Thumbkin.”
“How about Thumby?”
“That’ll work.”
193. Thumby and the Brain“It’s Thumby, it’s Thumby and The Brain, storm, ing,
ma,chine,” said the announcer laughing hysterically. Then
he pulled off his mask, and there, lo and behold, to
Roundtop’s surprise, maskless, right on TV, in front of
millions of viewers, including Roundtop, was Jason. “We’re
gonna take over earth, folks, and I’m gonna help, because
it’s a we, not a me. He he he! And now for a display of our
power!” Then all the televisions all over the world short
circuited. Including George Khan’s TV. This annoyed
George Khan, and he jumped into his squad car and sped to
the station.
194. Speeding TicketGeorge Khan was none to happy to get a speeding ticket
for Joe Conrad. He was so unhappy, in fact, that he wasvery unhappy. He was unhappy indeed. Rather obsessively
unhappy. So very unhappy. Just making sure the point is
gotten across. George Khan got out of his police car.
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“Well, Conrad, old boy, I hope you’re happy you’ve
caught such a desperate criminal,” said George Khan, Chief
of Police, his voice tinged with sarcasm.
“There’s sure to be a promotion in it for me,” said
Conrad, not catching on to the sarcasm in Khan’s voice.
“Yes, a promotion as official doughnut getter for the rest
of the year!” thundered George Khan.“Well, here’s your ticket.” Conrad handed Khan his
ticket.
Khan was ticked about his ticking ticket. “Why is this
ticket ticking?” he asked, developing a tick in his right eye.
He brushed a tick off his leg.
“Hmm, I dunno,” said Conrad.
“Well, I sure ain’t tickled pink about it.”
195. The BriefcaseJason opened his briefcase a crack. “You gettin’ enough
air in there?” he asked the briefcase.
“No, open wider,” a voice came out of the briefcase.
“Can’t,” muttered Jason, “they may see you.”The tall man in the elevator, however, only heard the
first statement about air. “One of those breathing briefcases,
eh, buddy?” the man nudged Jason.
“Don’t touch me, pal,” growled Jason. He then sent a
telepathic message to his horse, “cummon ya ol horse,
whack the tall man.” Jason’s horse crashed through the
elevator door. He then fell down until he landed on the
elevator. All the cables snapped and the elevator fell. Jason
and the tall man were both sent to the hospital. The horse
escaped with minor injuries. The brainstorming machine in
the briefcase was smashed to smithereens.
196. Jason Gets a Visit“Well, Jason, we’re going to have to arrest you for trying
to take over the world, and killing millions of televisions in
the process,” said Carl.“Yes,” said Roundtop.
“But...” Jason thought hard. “But, I didn’t go on TV!!
That was my twin brother, Jakeyboy, or Jake, rather.”
“Oh,” said Carl.
“Gee,” said Roundtop.
“Is anybody else hungry?” asked George Khan.
“I am,” said Carl.
“Not now,” said Roundtop.
“Well, we’ll see you around,” said George Khan.Suddenly, he burst out laughing. They all looked at him
questioningly. “Around! Get it!!? Roundtop!”
“Wait!” cried Roundtop. “If Jason is telling the truth
then how come there’s a smashed brainstorming machine in
his briefcase?”
“Later, Roundtop,” said Carl. “Right now, we’re
hungry.”
197. So They Eat“Gimme a liquid life,” muttered Roundtop.
“Sure Fred.”
“Name’s Roundtop.”
“Right, Ryan.”
Roundtop gulped the liquid life down.
198. School Adventures“Matt,” said Adam breathlessly, “We must find an Exil.”
“Exil?” asked Matt. “What’s that?”
“I don’t know, but it’s our homework assignment.”
Matt looked at the board. He took notes. “These must be clues,” he said. Rachel looked at Matt’s paper.
“What’s Exil?” she asked.
“Our homework assignment,” said Adam.
“Homework?” asked Zack. “What homework?”
“We have to find an Exil,” answered Rachel. “These are
clues.” Matt studied his paper with the notes:
Matt Chomseom
“I don’t know about this funny equation stuff,” said
Matt, “coso 53 over 2 jsino equals negative one half.”
“I can do some math,” said Adam. “53 over 2 is 26.5.”
“Yeah! And negative one half is negative point five,”
Matt chimed in. He re-wrote the clue: coso26.5jsino = -.5
“Hey,” said Ruth. “Look at this. Jsino. Say it out loud.
It sounds like Jason -o!”
A deathly chill settled over the group. “Jason? Isn’t that
Thumby’s real name? Is... is Mr. Guttersnaks trying to take
over the world?” whispered Zack fearfully.
“Yes,” said Zack grimly. “Our only hope is to conquer Mr. Guttersnaks and Thumby and the Brainstorming
machine with the Exil.”
“But where do we get Exil?” asked Ruth again. Zack
studied the notes on Matt’s paper.“I’ll bet this “z” stands for Zack,” mumbled Zack
angrily.
“And the “a” stands for Adam,” added Adam grimly.
“And the “r” for Ruth,” continued Ruth fearfully.
“I’ll bet that weird picture is a map,” Matt said
insightfully.
“Hey, yeah!” exclaimed the other four.
“And this coso 26.5... must be some kind of
measurement to go along with the map. But what’s coso?”asked Matt.
“Matt,” said Zack, his voice low and eagar, “What’s
your last name?”
“Chomseom,” said Matt. “You knew that.” Zack took
Matt’s paper and crossed out every other letter in Matt’s last
name. The remaining letters were C-O-S-O! Matt gasped in
horror.
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“All of our names are hidden on this assignment,” said
Zack in a low voice. “Matt, Adam, Ruth, and myself.” Matt
quickly re-drew the clues:
“That’s much simpler,” commented Ruth. Just then, theharsh clangling loud bell interrupted the faithful four as they
fought to save the world.
“Let’s meet at my house after school,” said Adam, and
they left.
199. The Quart of Law“Welcome to the quartroom, kids, what can I do for
you?” asked the judge.“We’re looking for the Ex-ouch! Hey, why’d you pin-
ouch! Stop it!”
“We’ll be right back,” muttered Adam to the judge. He
took Zack outside. “Look, Zack, we can’t just go around
telling people we’re trying to save the world. Guttersnaks’llknow we’re on to him!”
“We need superhero outfits!”
“Hey yeah, where can we get some?”
“Guttersnak’s Costume store!”
“Think for a second there.”
“Oh yeah.”
“We’ll have to make them ourselves.”
“Right.”
200. The Merchant of AatrakasSplinter and Blister were taking an afternoon stroll
through the supermarket. As you probably well knowalready, supermarkets have air conditioning. So it is natural
for a hobo to go inside one on a hot summer day. Besides,
they have free samples.
“Come getcher cheese samples!”“Cometh and getteth thine own samples of holistic
healing powder.”
“Look, my friend, ‘tis the vet of Aatrakas,” sayth
Splinter to his friend Blister.
“Nay, my friend, a vet be I not. I am a merchant. And a
great and humble one at that. I seeith thou hast a leech
wound. Rubbing this holistic healing powder on it will heal
it instantly!”
“A free sample, my friendly foe, that I’ll try!” exclaimethSplinter happily.
The merchant of Aatrakas then tooketh the salt out of a
large bag labeled “Ye Olde Holistic Healing Powder cubes”
and rubbeth it onto Splinter’s wound.
“Pain it is, and a pain that is great. About that there is no
debate!” hollerth Splinter.
“Ha ha ha” laughth the merchant of Aatrakas as he
vanisheth in a puff of red smoke.
201. A Vet Again“We must stopth him!” crieth Splinter in great pain.
“Leave it to mineself, good sir. I belive he shalt be
found hiding under that table over tharth!”
And they lookth.
“We hath found him!”
“Spare me, good sirs, for I am a lowly servant of thegreat Mustard Maniac, doing his bidding as he forces me!”
“Thou liest,” sayst Blister and smote the merchant on the
head.
“Nay, hit him not,” sayst Splinter as he taketh the shelf
that had not yet been sandpapered. Splinter then taketh the
shelf and runneth it across the merchants back.
“A merchant I am no more,” screameth the vet of
Aatrakas in agony, “A vet I am I say.”
202. Superhero Costumes“I can use this fishbowl for a helmet!” said Zack.
“Right, if anyone punches you in the face then you’ll
have an effective shield of glass!” said Adam rolling his
eyes. “Look, use this underwater diving helmet.”
203. Is This The End For Thumby and the
Brainstorming Machine?“I dunno about this show, boss,” said the producer to the
director.
“Which one?” asked the director.
“The one about Thumby and the Brain. I don’t like the
way it resolves, ya know? The dues ex machina thing, it just
don’t work too well.”
“Hmmm,” said the director, not knowing what dues ex
machina was. “Yes, that’s a good point.”
“So let’s re-do it, no dues ex machina this time.”
“Uh,” said the director, “Let’s not and say we did.
Besides, I have to concentrate on “School Adventures,” and
then I’d like to get back on the Zoloft series. Maybe I’ll just
ditch the Thumby and the Brain.”
“Say, that Soloft has been a real hit, huh?”
“That’s Zoloft, you fool!” bellowed the director.
“Yeah, right, yeah, I was thinkin’ to name my new drug
after it.”
“Whatever,” scowled the director. He was not very fond
of the producer.
“I think the Thumby and the Brainstorming Machine was
a good start though,” pondered the producer.
“Rats!” cried the director as he jammed his finger into a
stapler.
“Yes, rats! Thumby and the Brainstorming Machineshould be rats!”
“Just leave my TV series alone!” cried the director, his
face (and his finger) green with rage and purple with envy.
The producer stood up with great energy.
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“Well if THAT’S the way your going to be!!!” he
exclaimed, “then I quit! I’ll make my own TV series!”
“Fine!” snapped the director, “you do that.”
And so he did. But most people don’t know about his
short-lived career when he worked with the GREAT and
WONDERFUL BOB BALONEY!!!!!
204. The Zoloft Monster Soon a new medication came out called Zoloft. It was
an antidepressant. Everyone wanted to try it. They wanted
to try it even more than Prozac, a big named medication.
This was because they thought it would, slowly but surely,
turn them as big as a big ol’ Zoloft Monster. Why did they
think that? Well it was because of a person named...
Big Ralph.He was big all right.
Really big.
He looked at the building standing as tall as he was.
Yep, he was big.
205. Big Ralph...looked around at the buildings. He gave one a push. It
toppled down taking several others with it. He laughed
triumphantly. He then noticed that the producer was looking
at him funny. He also noticed that the producer was as big
as he was.
“Wow, you’re almost as big as I am,” he said pointing to
the producer. The camera swept over to look at the
producer.
“Cut, cut!” he yelled angrily, for he was the director
here. Or rather, the other director. “What’s this joker doing
on the set? Somebody get him off!”“Er, gotta go!” declared Big Ralph as he jumped
talentedly with ease over a myriad of buildings and made his
daring escape. A lot of things had happened since he had
started taking Zoloft. He had to tell his friends about thisalthough he was normal sized again now he noticed as he
went out the back door.
206. A Fearful Danger Big Baldy looked around. He was big all right.
Big Baldy looked around at the buildings. He gave one
a push. It toppled down taking several others with it. He
laughed triumphantly. He then noticed that the producer
was looking at him funny. He also noticed that the producer was as big as he was.
“Wow, you’re almost as big as I am,” he said pointing to
the producer. The camera swept over to look at the
producer.
“What the heck is going on here!!?” asked the producer
angrily. “This is the second time that this happened today!”Big Baldy, not sure what was happening, pushed another
building over. Sparks came out of the bottom of it as all the
lights inside flickered off. “Well,” he said, “If you hadn’t
been working on that size proportion machine like I
suggested-” although he was quite unsure what he was
talking about. Suddenly, he saw the Zoloft monster. It was
right next to him, giving him an evil toothy grin!
“Er, hey there, Zollyoftly ol’ fellow!” declared Big
Baldy a tad bit nervously.“This is my scene,” said the Zoloft monster without
moving his mouth, “get out of here!”
“Er, right! Bye now.” Big Baldy made a hasty exit for
the back door.
207. News Time Again!Annoying banjo music that really wasn’t very good
played in the background as the announcer spoke. “So thedebate rages. Now, on to have our three guests debate as to
whether Zoloft, the new medication, causes people to grow
in size.
“So, Big Ralph. How do you know that the medication
actually made you change sizes? I mean, no reports of agiant person changing sizes shoving down buildings has
been reported.” The words ‘Professional Person’ appeared
under his face as he spoke.
“Well, it’s very simple, really,” replied Big Ralph as the
words ‘Ralph Deploma’ appeared under his face. “In
meaning that I saw it happen myself. You see, I am a simple
person. And in being simple, I know what I see.”
“Er, yes...” the professional person paused for a moment
trying to remember his question for Baldy. “Oh yes,” he
said suddenly remembering, “So, Big Baldy, why do you
think that the medication doesn’t cause one to grow to
propartinally large sizes?”
“Well, It’s quite simple, really,” began Big Baldy as thewords Bob Bargigathon appeared next to his face. With a
wave of his hand he hit the letters and they went flying
away. “Oops. Sorry,” he muttered.
“Keep talking,” someone whispered.
“Right, the answer is plain and simple. Plainly simple infact,” he said as he tried to remember what the plainly
simple answer was. “I don’t take Zoloft, but you see, I too
grew to proportionally big sizes. In fact, I actually saw the
Zoloft monster. In fact, it talked to me without moving its
mouth!”
“This is quite a claim, as it would be hard to believe the
Zoloft monster exists. How come nobody else saw it?”
asked the professional person.“Because they weren’t my size, DUH! Helloooo here!”
yelled Big Baldy angrily.
“Er, yes. Well,” the professional person tugged at his
collar getting more and more nervous as the session went on.
“Are you taking any medication?”
“Yes,” Big Baldy answered. “I take medication for
being Bi-Polar. My emotions go from here to there, all over
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everywhere,” he said with a pleasant smile alight up to the
very corners of his face.
“Could you be a little more clear?” asked the
professional person.
“Yes,” frowned Big Baldy. “I go from happy to sad.
Angry to joyful, and such and such.” He was growing a bit
more tedious now.“Must not be working,” growled Big Ralph.
“Well, I haven’t taken it since that Zoloft incident.”
“Okay, here’s my idea,” said the professional person,
“Maybe something in both of your medications has the same
thing in it that makes you both grow!” he exclaimed in an
effort to calm them down.
“Well, we’re out of time!” lied the professional person.
“See you folks next time,” he gestured at the camera.
208. Later in the Newsroom“What a disaster!” exclaimed the Big Important Guy,
“Next time don’t hang the letters so close to the people.
And hurry up and get those strings untangled. Geeze, I wishwe could afford editing sometimes. I’m not doing that live
again!” He turned to look at the professional person. “And
you! What the heck was that about being out of time!!? We
had half an hour left and only four commercials to show.
We had to show them over and over again! That’s it! I
quit!” he hollered when the professional person didn’t
answer him. “I’m going to go become a chemist!”
209. The FairiesBob turned off the television in disgust. “Stupid shows!
Nothing good ever comes on anymore!” pouted Bob angrily.
Fairies danced around Bob’s head. “Bob, Bob!” theywhispered.
Bob looked around. He watched the fairies and listened
to their echoing voices as they called his name. Finally he
got a bit fed up with them. “Whaddya’ want!?” he askedirritably.
“Bob, Bob!” they whispered more softly.
“Hmm,” mused Bob to the phading fantoms, “perhaps
five days without sleep is a bit much.” So Bob went to bed
and fell into a deep dreamless coma. Okay, so it wasn’t
exactly a coma, but when Bob’s boss called at three in the
morning to warn him that he was late for work, Bob didn’t
hear the phone ringing. This was partially due to the fact
that Bob had accidentally knocked the phone off the hook inhis fumbling to find his bed in the dark and partially due to
the fact that Bob was snoring loudly. But regardless, Bob
did not wake up until three in the morning the next day.
Bob’s boss, the director, was not too happy about all this,
but since Bob was a famous actor he didn’t want to fray his
nerves. His own, of course, not Bob’s. The director could
care less about Bob’s nerves.
210. The Headache Pill“Need a headache? Maybe a migraine? Of course ya
don’t, ya durn fool! But maybe ya knowses someone whos a
doeses! Slip this cheap $10 pill into their drink and watch
the magic work!”
“I forgot to tell you Bob, we did a little commercial in
your absence,” the director commented.“I see,” said Bob.
211. Horse StallsFor days Carol dreamed of flying. Irene didn’t notice
Carol’s jealous stares. Irene did know that Carol was a fattyand shouldn’t eat Moose Tracks ice cream or cookies or
cake. But Carol ate it anyway and became even more of a
fatty! Little did Carol know that it would take hair down to
her ankles before it could lift her enormous weight!!! That
was only one of Carol’s many problems with her monstrous
weight. Another one was that she had to have a special chair
to sit in at the dinner table so she wouldn’t break the normal
ones! Carol had tried to loose weight before but was too
lazy to really do it and she ate sweets and fatty foods
anyway! This would take drastic measures folks!!!
The man with the red face slammed his fist into the
keyboard. ikmikikikmuhiujhik mik,k,iuoio , *beep*
“I thought I told you kids to stop stalling ninety-four
chapters ago!” he thundered.
“Uh...” stuttered the kid who had received two
marvelous haircuts within this time period.
“Hey, mind your own business!” snapped the fat girl
whose hair was not currently in the familiar ponytail. “It’s
our durn story, we kin take as long as we like!”
Red face frowned heavily. “Well!” he demandedtriumphantly, “why is this chapter called Horse Stalls? Huh,
Smartie, can you answer that?”
“Maybe cuz I wanted to call it Horse Stalls,” replied the
fat girl nonchalantly. “And after all, we’ve mentionedturtles and hedgehogs and Zoloft monsters in our story, I
figured we needed a horse or two. But you have given me a
good idea!”
“Yeah right, it’ll be the first one yet!” glowered the
angry man.
SmartieOnce in the land of long ago and far away, there lived a
rather humorous lad named Smartie. Everyone in the land
of long ago and far away thought that Smartie was rather
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humorous. However, they were not aware of the fact that
Smartie loved candy. Smartie loved candy. Now you are
aware of the fact, although the people of the land of long
ago and far away are not. Smartie loved to play jokes on
people. One such person was Bob Baloney, which is what
our story today is about. However, I’m getting ahead of
myself. Smartie’s jokes often resulted in him obtainingcandy for himself. Smartie loved to obtain candy for
himself, which is why he played so many jokes on people.
Smartie was not actually a humorous lad, he simply liked
candy. Therefore, the people of the land of long ago and far
away had been deceived. But, that is not the point of our
story. The point is - well, there really isn’t a point, and I
hope you are only reading this story for your personal
entertainment because you’re not going to get much else out
of it, if even that. There. Fair warning. Okay. Now, our
story today is about the joke Smartie pulled on Bob Baloney
to obtain candy for himself.
“Hi, Bob Baloney,” Smartie said casually.
“Hi, Smartie,” Bob Baloney replied in return. Smartiesmirked.
“I’ll bet you don’t know what a water balloon is,”
Smartie said. Bob Baloney laughed, much humored.“Well, as a matter of fact, I do know what a water
balloon is,” Bob Baloney replied, for he had one with him,
right in his back pocket.
“Oh, yeah?” said Smartie. “Let’s go to McDonalds. My
treat.” Bob Baloney nodded, wanting to be further humored
by Smartie, who, if you recall, was considered humorous by
the people of the land of long ago and far away. So Smartie
and Bob Baloney went into McDonalds and ordered value
meal #1 and value meal #5. Smartie ate value meal #5,
although Bob Baloney ordered it, and Bob Baloney wasforced to eat value meal #1, which was very disgusting. Bob
Baloney wasn’t too pleased about it, neither was he pleased
when he sat down, for the water balloon in his back pocket
burst, leaving his pants quite wet. Smartie seemed to find
this especially humorous, as did the other people in
McDonalds, but Bob Baloney was not humored at all. And,
the value meal #1 was disgusting. Bob Baloney left
McDonalds feeling rather furious at Smartie, and Smartie
left the McDonalds wanting some candy. He never got any,
however. Moral: if you want candy from Bob Baloney,
don’t eat his value meal or cause him to sit on the water
balloon in his back pocket. It will not humor him.
Perhaps you yourself, the reader of this short story, werenot humored by it. I am terribly sorry if this is the case.Even I myself will say that it was a rather poor story, and I
sympathize with you if you, the reader, were not humored. I
do indeed understand. But now you have read it, and wasted
that much more of your time doing so. But did I not state at
that. There. Fair warning. Yes, those were my words
exactly. Perhaps later I will write a good story, or a
humorous story at least, or a story that at least makes sense,
at a later date. For the present, you shall have to bear with
this. If you have even bothered to read this far. Well, I
suppose this story had better end soon, seeing as it is already
too long for the type of story it is. Well, I hope you couldfind it in your heart to forgive me for writing such a terrible
story, and read one of my better ones some day.The End
“What sort of baloney is this?” thundered the now
purple-faced man, but he received no response but laughter.