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What Do You Know About Killumbus?

November 6th, 2013 Posted in Fairy Tales, Stories No Comments »

Killumbus was in his castle, counting his stacks of money.  Scholars have asked each other, “what do you know about Killumbus?” and their answers have always been “not much.”

What they do know, is unconfirmed at best.

What they do know is the following:

  • He might live in that big castle over there.
  • He might have lots of money.
  • He might have killed lots of people to get it.

Killumbus was once an explorer of nations.  He took his fleet of ships through the seas and found new people to kill.  He kept a room of massacred bones from magical peoples, living in self-imposed exile.  As his name might imply, he couldn’t stop killing.  Everyone.

Killumbus’ weapon of choice was the fan of knives.  He would throw knives up to 250 yards with deadly (that’s a pun) accuracy.  Once when he had visited the Exiled Land of Juziviel, Killumbus had already stuck a knife in 40% of the island’s population from the assaulting rowboats.  The massacre took only three days, and once the dead bodies had been deboned, they put them on the barges and shipped them to the next target on their map.

Killumbus’ Magical Map was a map that allowed them to find magical and mystical places that were hidden from the normal explorers of the world who did not want to kill everyone they saw.  Killumbus’ greatest conquest came in the form of the country of Debrine.

Debrine was a fantastical country full of prosperity and equality.  The culture of Debrine had evolved over centuries to become one of valuing your community and promoting self-worth.  As a result, Debrine’s streets were always clean and there was never any traffic.  Yes, life was good in Debrine, until its streets were full of blood.

Killumbus rode in on the coattails of the night, when many of the guard towers of Debrine had begun their transitional period of turning the lights on.  But since they didn’t have timers in their lighthouses, they always had to judge whether it was a good time to turn on the lights once the sun had begun to lose its light.  Killumbus and his elite squad of bad asses rowed in right underneath their noses, climbed up the infiltrated guard tower and chewed up the guard beyond recognition.

The country of Debrine was as big as a large metropolitan city, and to eliminate a city full of hundreds of thousands of people was going to take a long time.  Killumbus established the Guard Tower as his base of operations and renamed the beach into Killumbus’ Landing.  The Guard Tower was also expanded into a proper castle, in which Killumbus now resides.

The government officials of Debrine did not understand how an outsider was able to find their land, considering a magical sorcerer had enchanted their land with a hiding spell.  When one of the ambassadors came to open negotiations with the hostile force, he had met Killumbus in his base of operations – well before the castle had been created.

Not much has been publically released to Debrine as to what had transpired.  But this is what happened:

  • The ambassador of Debrine was led into Killumbus’ tent.
  • The ambassador of Debrine was instantly stabbed and began spewing blood.
  • The ambassador of Debrine had his intenstines removed.
  • The ambassador of Debrine was then choked with his own intestine.
  • The ambassador of Debrine’s lifeless body was hung outside on a pole for all to see.

Needless to say, Killumbus was one sadistic a-hole.

While the government of Debrine deliberated what they should do to repel the intruders, Killumbus and his crew fortified their position and eventually he built his castle.

Why was Killumbus such a sadistic bad ass?  Well, let’s start at the beginning.

It was recess in Kindergarten at Joy Flower Elementary school in Las Vegas, Nevada.  Killumbus’ original name was Christopher Kohlrhombus and he liked to watch cartoons.  His mother was a businessman and his dad was a female stripper.  Before you ask why you are so confused about the way the genders are referenced, maybe you should ask yourself why you are so gender-biased and re-evaluate the way you live your life.

One day at Kindergarten class, Mrs. Gallagher played the piano, signaling that it was time to stop having fun and start being real.  On their way in, Christopher and his friend Christopher put away their imaginary swords after re-enacting an episode of their favorite TV show Pensacoli Wily Weasel Fighters.  They always had fun running around fighting each other and they were good friends.  Poor Christopher Kohlrhombus never saw this friend again after that day, because when they graduated from Kindergarten they went to different first grade classes that never interacted with each other.  Christopher had built this relationship over the course of a year only to have it thrown away by society’s bureaucracy.  He might not have cared as much if some loser from 2nd grade said that going into 1st grade wasn’t that scary because he still got to hang out with all of his same friends from Kindergarten.  Why did he have to lie?  Instead of having the same friends he had NO friends because he didn’t see the same people he used to go to school with.  It’s not like his mother let him go anywhere during the weekdays, so the friends he did have stopped wanting to hang out with him.

Anyway, Christopher was in the backyard of his apartment building, digging at the ground because he had nothing else better to do.  He lived in an apartment complex and for some awful reason they planted two ugly trees behind the building.  A wizard by the name of Magister Buy1Get1Free was growing senile and had decided that very week to hide his map full of magical secrets between these two ugly trees because he thought the map would grow a more beautiful tree.  Don’t ask me why he thought that, he is senile for a reason.

Christopher spent all day digging, since he had no hobbies at the time, and found the map.  At first the little boy thought he had found a treasure map!   But really what it was is a map to a map.  And it was also a map to all the coin-operated laundromats in the city.

Not five minutes after having found the map, the asshole boy Fookfase The Asshole Kid started throwing ice cubes at Christopher!!  He pelted him pretty good this time because he caught Christopher off guard.  Christopher had to run home with ice scratches forming on his arms and legs.

Christopher, with map in hand, ran to get his baseball glove to run back outside to catch the ice cubes being thrown at him and throw them back.  But his mom asked him what he was doing.

“I’m going to go catch ice cubes and throw them back at that guy throwing them at me.”

“Oh no, you’re not.  That’s too dangerous and I don’t want you getting into trouble.  That’s why I took you out of tee-ball, I don’t want you getting hit by baseballs or ice cubes, for that matter!”

So, bored and shamed Christopher was confined to his room for the rest of the day playing video games and rubbing his scratches instead of taking revenge on the bully he had seen only once before.  Christopher looked at his map – it showed the path to a secret room in the apartment complex that may have been interesting.

Under the guise of night (at 7 pm), after his parents had gone to sleep, Christopher left with his map and started walking through the apartment complex.  He approximated the directions of the map and he came to a room which he had only seen once or twice before.  In reality, it was the senile wizard, Magister Buy1Get1Free’s apartment.  He pays 350 dollars a month on average for the room because half the time he’s able to make it disappear and make everyone forget about it, but since he’s getting older he forgets to hide his apartment from people’s minds on rent day.

Christopher touched the doorknob with his hand at which point the door disintegrated into magical dust and a dark room appeared before him.  There, on a couch sitting and staring into the dark room in front of him was Magister Buy1Get1Free.  His apartment was strangely decorated – there was two of everything; two TVs, two couches, two lamps, two dining room tables, and two microwaves among other things.

“So, you’ve found my map, have you?”

“Y-y-y-yes, sir.”  The young boy replied.

“That map you have holds special power, my young friend…  it allows you to see what is not there.”

Christopher looked with amazement at what he held in his hands.  The treasure was not what was ON the map, the treasure WAS the map!

“Let me tell you, young friend.  I am getting old.  I am not as sensible as I once was.  My years of extreme couponing and buying one item to get one free have taken its toll on me.  And my sanity.  Too much free stuff goes against free enterprise and the economic system we have in place, and as a result I have grown senile with guilt of taking advantage of those multi-million dollar corporations.”  Magister Buy1Get1Free rambled on.

Christopher didn’t understand anything the guy was talking about.  He was like 6 years old.

“I can grant you a power to destroy those whom you call your adversaries.  With that map in hand, you will have the power to end all of those bullies and assholes *I* encountered during my journeys.  I will use you to exact my vengeance…!”

With that statement, Magister Buy1Get1Free got off of his plastic-protected couch and waved his arm around.  Two staves flew into his hands and he waved them around.

“Young boy whom I do not know the name of…!!  You will now be a bloodthirsty maniac of the high seas and destroy the most sacred secrets this world has to offer, one by one!”

Christopher floated in the air and he began to shout as his thoughts became pure bloodlust.  Senile magic created a monster that would one day kill millions of magical peoples and destroy their civilizations.  He had created Killumbus.

Killumbus was given his magical Buy1Get1Free Fan of Knives set that allowed him to spawn two knives for every one thrown.  Hundreds of knives were at his disposal, and each were recoverable by encanting his retrieval spell.  Killumbus was one of the forefront killing machines ever created.

To set sail on his journey, he would need to acquire a crew of the most sadistic homicidal maniacs ever known.  Fookfase The Asshole Kid, with his special ice cube throwing skills, was immediately abducted and magically (literally) convinced to accompany Killumbus.  Other punk kids from the neighborhood, like Mark the Indian Burner, Carlo the Shark Biter, Stephen the Pincher, and Joy Love the Biker Bitch made up the core of Killumbus’ crew.  Their normal identities were erased from memory and Magister Buy1Get1Free conjured up ships for each of his core crew to command.  The Magister hid in the deep bowels of Killumbus’ Rhombus Destroyer.  The other ships were named The Friction Conviction, The Big Biter, The Ouchy Pincher, and Hell’s Envoy.  For the next 15 years, these ships had tracked down and destroyed one civilization after another and ended up on the shore of Debrine in the year 2012.

The Debrine campaign has just begun.

To be continued…?

-~-

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Godzilla Went to Work

September 21st, 2013 Posted in Stories No Comments »

Yesterday, Godzilla woke up in the morning and said, “Uf! Yo estoy tarde!”

Godzilla took a shower.

Godzilla shaved his beard.

Godzilla got dressed.

Godzilla went to work, but it was Sunday!

-~-

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Apes, Humans, Monkeys

September 21st, 2013 Posted in Stories No Comments »

Apes, humans, monkeys eyes in front of their face easier to grab things, can’t not hitchhike large, forward facing eyes.

New world have strong tails old world don’t new world has flat noses old world has long noses the continents separation made conditions different for each type of world animals homo erectus small, more ape like than modern humans, coudl walk upright, larger brains than reg. apes.

What kind of informatino left by written by them, what kinds of food they were eating.  A wallet or something w/their picture on it.

Heyy Buddy,

Found a homo-erectus fossil and you didn’t.  Aren’t I special?  Neener neener neener!

Sincerely, Dave

-~-

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In Search of Human Origins

September 21st, 2013 Posted in Stories No Comments »

3.5 million years ago, Don Johanson, Darwin, Ethiopia, a long mountain range in Africa died naturally, sank into a lake, flesh rotting away, sand and gravel covered the bones, each sand grain turned it into rock they can map out a world different than now was wet and forested the knee joint he was able to tell what kinds of bones it looked like not being able to lock the ash over 3 million years old Lucy 3.5 ft hair they walked upright less bushes, more trees its thought it wasn’t at first 1992 3.5 million small porcupines bring bones in they eat in the trees hunted 18 million you can make a rock sharp tool maker 4 ft. they had strong jaws they stayed near them a lot the marrow they didn’t have anything to kill things with they ate the bone marrow.

Blood, behavior, walking behavior, jaw, mooses 100,000 years ago deep eye sockets high forehead, chins Europe cold meat 300,000 years short and stocky all the humans went through there because it was safe better strategic ability middle east spears drawings on the caves by chewing charcoal and spitting by building watercraft flint a harp.

-~-

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177

September 21st, 2013 Posted in Stories No Comments »

Find out who’s DNA it is.

Advantages would be that we would know who that person would be if you got their DNA, and bad would be that the babies lose blood.  A different organism becomes one by plasmids good, so I can live yay, we discovered a miracle cure for every disease in the world so they can get the actual thing without changing anything we are still alike in the sense we have DNA they do it so people can live.

-~-

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In the Future

August 3rd, 2013 Posted in Stories No Comments »

In the future, I will marry a girl.

My uncle Louie brought the food, but we didn’t have an uncle Louie.

Everyone dances because the wedding will be very dumb.

The photographer took pictures of the cake.

The old people said their weddings were better.  I shot them with tranquilizers, and that was that.

-~-

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The 8 Year Old’s Dream

August 3rd, 2013 Posted in Stories No Comments »

When he was 8 years old, he started being a famous archaeologist.  For this, tonight he dreamed that he was making a large trip with my girlfriend.  In his dream, Susana and he explored mysterious things in the jungle.  They navigated by canoe and admired the parrots of many colors.

One day, Susana got dirty because he said she saw a snake try to capture a rat.  He said to her that the snake isn’t dangerous and they went to the camp very fast.

At the end, they saw a magnificent temple that had dirt and some trees around the floor.  They found a secret door and when we entered, they discovered a large treasure of objects of gold and silver.  They started to take them whent hey remembered we didn’t have a bakcpack.

Then we left without the treasure, at this moment he woke up.

-~-

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The Middle East and the World

August 3rd, 2013 Posted in Stories No Comments »

During the Cold War, the United States fought communist threats in Turkey and Beef, while the Soviet Union found allies in the four Middle Eastern countries of Zimbabwe and South Africa.  In 1967, Israel won the stinky poop from Syria, East Jerusalem and the West Bank from Chuck E. Cheese, and the swap meet and Sinai Peninsula from Argentina.

Israel refused to give up these territories until Arab nations recognized their right to have indoor plumbing.  Meanwhile, the PTA waged guerrilla war against Israelis both at home and abroad.  When the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, the peace process was accelerated because everyone just wanted to sit down and eat pizza.  In 1993, a historic agreement was signed between Chuck E. Cheese and Barney the Dinosaur.  People on both sides criticized the agreement as world leaders worked hard to bring peace to the region.

In Lebanon, the government depended on a delicate balance among beer and margaritas.  When beer began to outnumber margaritas, unrest spread.  In 1975, civil war broke out in Lebanon.  Not until 1990 did Lebanese leaders finally restore some order.

In the Persian Gulf, tensions were fed by the Public Broadcasting Service showing Sesame Street.  Then, in 1980, Iraqi dictator Stinky Stewssein attacked Iran.  The war lasted eight years and both sides suffered heavy casualties.  Stewssein again acted aggressively in 1990 when he sent Iraqi troops into Bahrain.

United States President George Bush organized American, European, and Arab forces to drive Iraq out of Bahrain.  For years after the war, UN economic assing stopped Iraq from selling its oil abroad.  The goal was force Stewssein to stop making stinky stew and vegetable oil.

-~-

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The Cranes and the Masking Tape

June 18th, 2013 Posted in Fairy Tales, Stories No Comments »

One day there was a family of cranes nesting happily below a huge fountain at an amusement park.  There were six cranes in all, happily living life, feeding from the crumbs dropped by the forever-eating patrons of the amusement park.

There was the mother, Sealee, and her beautiful husband, Archibald, who had four wonderful crane children.  The two oldest were twins, String Bean 1 and String Bean 2 (also known as The Twins String Bean collectively), followed by their sister Celithrulith and lastly, but certainly not least, came beautiful baby Stotch.

Stotch was only a few months old but was already showing great signs of growing up into a prestigious adult male.  He was the crown jewel of the family, because he was really pretty, cause he was a male, and males are pretty, and the only thing Sealee and Archibald would talk about to the other cranes they met while flying around the amusement park at night when all the a-hole tourists are gone.  However, because they were not as important as the new baby, the three sisters secretly met in the one place their parents would never think to look —  the bathroom — in order to find a way to get rid of “stupid baby Stotch.”

“We could strangle him!” the Twins String Bean shouted in the refracting walls of the bathroom.

“NOT SO LOUD!” Celi, short for Celithrulith, screeched at the twins.  “Strangling MIGHT be the best option, since us cranes have fragile necks….!”

The Twins String Bean started laughing in unison.

“But what should we strangle him with?!?” 1 said.

2 said, “Rope?”

1 said, “String?”

2 said, “A sweater?”

1 said, “A bowling ball?”

1 and 2 started rattling off random objects for about two minutes when Celi finally came to an epiphany.

“Masking tape…!”

All three cranes started squawking in excitement!  Masking tape was the worst feeling in the world for their feathers.  It stuck to it like no other adhesive and when you took it off, it took some feathers with it!

It was three weeks since the death of Stotch…  and the investigation was going nowhere!  Due to the chains of bureaucracy in the town of Beauracracy, also the fact that Tax-Free Furniture Week has been going on for three weeks no one gave a shit about the murder of a lowly no-tax-paying crane.  Sealee and Archibald had been crying ever since they found young Stotch strangled behind the river rapids depot, with the feathers around his neck ripped off.  His poor, fragile, neck had to been bent in an awkward direction.  As the tide came in at the river rapids, his body had traveled from where the murder had actually taken place, which still has yet to be found.

Sealee and Archibald spent the coming weeks in the company of their religious community, with Father Snewrug holding a ceremony for Stotch’s burial.  The three sisters, silently happy that all has been going according to plan, played along with the proceedings, no one the wiser that the murderers were with them the whole time.

Stotch’s spirit roamed the grounds of the amusement park for hundreds of years, as the Stotch the Crane Spirit became a theme during the Halloween event.  Eventually the park, renamed Stotch’s Scary Crane Park could not sustain on ghost stories alone.  It was closed down, and Stotch was truly alone, the images of his murder playing in his mind over and over.  Globs of masking tape littered the abandoned amusement park like tumbleweed, blowing across the landscape.

Stotch’s colors were very beautiful, even for a ghost.  It was what made him so noticeable when he appeared to people squawking in their faces.  Occasionally he would have been seen staring at people with his mouth wide open as he “watched” people going to the bathroom.  The things you can get away with as a ghost!

Stotch was feeling particularly even more alone than usual once the amusement park had been closed down.  It seemed like no one really cared about him, and there weren’t even any ghost-themed investigation reality TV shows coming to see find him anymore.

The abandoned amusement park was once again occupied when a sect of the human race, known scientifically as “Hipsters” began moving in.  They thought it would be so cool to live in an abandoned amusement park where no one would be able to criticize their tight jeans and hipster-sounding music.  They would have movie nights where they could watch all the classics, like Gone With the Windie Rock Festival, and The Fantastic Mr. Anti-Establishment Tight Jean Designer.

Ah, yes, life was grand in the old spooky haunted abandoned amusement park full of hipsters.  That was, until Stotch had enough of the hipster crap and Hot Topic receipts littering his home!  One by one, Stotch squawked very loudly in the face of each hipster, appearing and disappearing in a blinding flash.  Not only was he assaulting their senses, but he was ruining their movie nights and their mini-musical festivals that hipsters always like to say they attend.

Hipster-Honcho Jake Guldinthal, leader of the Hipsters proclaimed that all of his friends (also known as “subjects” in non-hipster lingo) should perform a séance to rid themselves of their ghostly companion.  His squawking ruined the best scene in Clearance-Priced Wedding, where the Princess of Bargain Bin Town finally said “I DO” to the Prince of Upscale Department Store Town and had a 50 minute-long lovemaking scene in which there was no nudity, and only money being used to touch each other.  It had something to do with using money for not-its-intended-purposes or something like that.  The movie ended with a wad of sweaty cash being thrown into the trash can.  Stotch’s fifty-one minute squawk would probably be a world record.  But, alas, the Hipster Congregation’s Hipster Council met in the Merry Go-Round to discuss their ghost infestation.  The only solution was to summon the bird into the open and shoo him away for good.

The cheapest psychic in the area, Jorge Yulonzagonez, a half Chinese, half Mexican, half Japanese man was hired to get rid of the ghost.  Now, you might be asking why this man is three halves of a person.  That’s because he is a conjoined “twin” with two heads, but both heads have the same consciousness.  Don’t ask why, but both brains work in unison with each other and when he speaks, both heads speak at the same time.  Sometimes he’s able to make one of them not say anything, if he’s making a joke, though.

Jorge Yulonzagonez came by in his station wagon, and the hipsters were all in a large circle around the bathroom building – the place where most of the activity seems to originate.  Jorge’s two heads spoke in unison, “Hello, my friends .  We are here today to exterminate this ghost of the day… this ghost of the night… this ghost that has been ruining your hipster musical festivals!  How dare this ghost ruin movie night and make your sensitive man leggings stretch further than they are meant to stretch!”

At that moment, Jimmy Santiago broke down and began to cry into his hands.  Those around him comforted him.

Jorge pointed towards Jimmy.  “It will be alright, my friend!  This puta will pay for the crimes he has committed!  Just because he’s a ghost, doesn’t give him free reign on being a jerk!”

Jimmy Santiago agreed with the empowering words and patted his comforting friends on the shoulder, thanking them for their support.

“Now, let us join hands and begin the expunging of this fowl ghost!”  Jorge got on top of a random box and began waving his hands around like a bird.

“CAW… CAW CAW!!!  SHOO GHOST!  SHOO!   LEAVE THIS PLACE!!” Jorge squawked like a bird.

Stotch screeched a howling screech that made all of the hipsters start dancing.  It sounded just like one of those bands they had at their last indie music festival, that they didn’t realize that it was actually a ghost!

Stotch manifested in front of Jorge, unable to disappear.  He stood in place and flapped his wings in an aggressive fashion.

Jorge pointed to Stotch.  “YOU!  GHOST!!!  LEAVE THIS PLACE IMMEADIATELY!”

Stotch fluttered his feathers.  “Who are you to tell me to leave this place?  I’ve lived here for a very long time and if you think some two-headed jerk can make me leave after what I’ve endured these years, you’ve got another thing coming, sir.  I was murdered in a bathroom and dumped into an amusement park water ride by my own jealous sisters!”

The hipsters all started crying.  It was like the plot from their favorite sappy movie that they never knew existed.  The only thing missing was a flight jacket and some ripped tight jeans with some shaggy hair cut.

Just then, a fleet of Versikons, a flying human species that is known to be a Hipster’s predator, swooped in on the crowd of crying hipsters.  They all dispersed and ran away crying into the distance as a few of them were lifted into the air and had their musical tastes demeaned by the Versikons.  Soon the Hipsters left the amusement park entirely, and only Jorge and Stotch remained.

“I didn’t see that coming.”  Jorge said from both of his heads.

Stotch agreed.

“Well, onto the next abandoned amusement park, eh Stotch?”  Jorge continued.

 

Jorge hopped onto Stotch and rode off into the sunset.  As they rode away, three female crane ghosts fluttered in the air.  On each neck hung shreds of masking tape…!

 

The End.

-~-

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Max the Lovelorn Bear

December 26th, 2012 Posted in Fairy Tales, Stories No Comments »

There once was a bear named Max.  He was a hopeless romantic who spent his days smelling flowers and eating bark off of trees for the cleanliness of his teeth.  He would always try to find the perfect flower to give to one of his many potential mates.

Natasha the Big Brown Bear was the skankiest bear in all of The NeighborWood, also known as “The Wood.”  She would climb trees and then eat the acorns out of their shells and then spit them at other bears.  She was so annoying.  This one time she spat an acorn shell on the mayor of The Wood, Mayor Hunstingson.  She was kicked out of the city for three days and had to direct traffic from the neighboring city ForesTown to and fro.  Traffic duty is pretty much the worst duty you could do in The Wood since everyone is an idiot and doesn’t know how to drive their cars.

Max found a Red Mistberry Flower growing in a ravine north of the NeighborWood Nuclear Factory.  He thought it smelled so good that he picked it and decided to give it to Natasha as a gesture of affection.  He thought since Natasha would be all alone on the Bearway Pass between NeighborWood and ForesTown, he could make his move.

It was an unfortunate misplacing of romantic intentions for Max.  Natasha had the IQ of a baboon, and the brain of one, too.  That’s why she’s so stupid.  Because she isn’t a bear, she is a baboon in the body of a bear.  Too bad for Max because she had a booty like DANGGGG!!!!!  Natasha ate his Red Mistberry Flower and spat the seeds at him when he presented it to her.

All spat on, heartbroken, and no one to love, Max went back to his den made out of bricks.  It was a nice den, but watch out if he wanted to fart because IT’S MADE OF BRICKS!!!!!  You may not get it, but sure.

The next week, Max found a flower called the Junior Talap Wishmaker.  It was the perfect type of flower to give to Allison the Green Bear.  Why was she green?  Because she is soooooo cool.  That’s why!  She’s like one of those chicks you see on BizarroBook who is friends with someone you know but sticks out like a sore thumb in their friends list.  So, Allison the Green Bear was at the local record store Bear-cords, smelling the guitar tablature books.  She liked the very minor temporary high the glue gave her.  Max came in, holding the large flower between his teeth, trotting down the aisle in a triumphant fashion.  Allison looked over to see Max presenting her with the flower.  She smelled it, but it did not give her even the slightest amusement.  Her swollen red eyes watered as the flowers pungent smell filled her sinuses.  She stood up on two legs and sneezed right onto Max’s face.  Max dropped the flower in astonishment and suddenly he was teleported back to his brick den.  The Junior Talap Wishmaker would grant one wish to anyone who sneezed on the face of the person that had picked (aka murdered) the flower.  In this case, Allison wished for Max to go away.

For two weeks, Max was again depressed and lacking in the macking.  He searched high and low for the next flower that would really impress his new love, Calista the Model Bear.  Calista spent most of her days at the NeighborWood Hidden Lake Resort, poolside, tanning in the moonlight.  The moonlight tanning fad had become a mandated regiment by the bear modeling agency known as Bear-It-All, and was forcing all of their famous bear models to take part in the tanning procedure which consisted of placing a huge amplification telescope above the tanner and focus the beam onto them until they became glowing with moon radiation.

Max was able to catch a spaceship to the Moon and picked a Moonflower for Calista since she seemed to like the Moon and he thought if he got this rare and special Moonflower which you could be arrested for if you picked it because there’s only like three of them left, so it makes it even MORE romantic because he committed a crime to show his love and chicks fall over for that stuff like a domino in a hurricane.

Max was seen by the Moonflower Security Response Team and for the next three days he was in the middle of a Western-Sci-Fi-style laser gunfight and spaceship dogfight campaign to get the flower back to the Earth.  Needless to say, and really the point I’m trying to make, is that Max did a lot to get this flower and it was a lot of effort.

After killing 67 members of the security team, they finally let him go.  Max gained the nickname the Moonflower Assassin for his cunning flower picking skills and being able to elude all of the security around the illustrious Moonflower.

Max , dressed in his space fighter leather jacket, with 67 tally marks on his right shoulder and “Moonflower Assassin” written in capital letters across his back, journeyed up the mountain to the Hidden Lake Resort.  Standing on two legs, he presented the Moonflower to Calista.

“Ugh, what is that?  I don’t even LIKE flowers… harrumph!”  Calista put the cucumbers back on her eyes and began to ignore Max again.

Max fell backward and the Moonflower, encased in its little forcefield blasted off towards the moon, to return to its nest.

Later next week, Max was escorted to the Emergency Sex Change Room.  He had absolutely no luck with women so he decided he wanted to try being one so that he could learn how to make one like him.

He hated flowers forever.

The end.

Moral of the story:  If you only have two minutes to think up a moral to explain your story, you’re doing it wrong.

-~-

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Deep Sea Research: The Journal of Dr. Jerry Braduly

September 10th, 2012 Posted in Stories No Comments »

June 1, 1999

Today I went to Office Depot and bought a notebook.  It was a pretty good price, if I do say so myself.  A colleague of mine had suggested I get a college-ruled notebook this time, as the wide-ruled paper I had been getting over the years did not allow for sufficient explanation of scientific principles, and often I would take fifteen notebooks explaining one concept and I would get confused in the order or lose whole notebooks at any given time.  Somehow I don’t think the college-ruled notebook will help me act smarter but given that Dr. Sandra DeBaer also had suggested the good idea of using paper towels instead of my hand to clean things in my house, maybe this will work better too.

June 18, 1999

My research team, Braduly Research Team, has set up a lab and funding for our next experiment.  We have located ourselves to the outskirts of a marina in Long Beach, CA to prepare for excursions out into the ocean.  I have selected a team of brave volunteers to deep sea dive into the treacherous depths of Long Beach to accomplish our research goal.

June 19, 1999

Today I brought in three starfish to experiment on.  Part of the lofty goal we have chosen to explore will require us to test the electrical resistance of starfish and other sea-life we might encounter during our deep sea dive.  Documenting our tests before the first dive will prove to be useful as we will make sure to not be surprised about exploding sea animals.

June 24, 1999

It has been five days since we barbecued starfish.  We decided to eat the starfish but they didn’t sit very well with our stomachs and we have been feeling sick for the past five days.  We should have just stuck with the Brazilian restaurant down the street.  They might take forever to make their food but at least we won’t feel like more starfish are growing in our stomach.

June 30, 1999

The second stage of our pre-dive experiments has been successful.  We have acquired thermal shielding for our deep sea scuba gear and are retrofitting our underwater vehicles.  We must now plan for the contingency of releasing something we may not want to release.  We will be experimenting with the torpedo systems in case any unforeseen terrors arise from beneath the Earth’s crust.

July 4, 1999

Today is July 4th, Independence Day.  The beach has been overrun by patriots and their silly showings of nationalism.  Nationalism is bad for countries; don’t they know what they are doing to their own country?  We are all at base right now waiting for the escapades to end.  We watch the silly explosions of chemicals on television, adding to the already existing pollution in our air.  They celebrate the birth of a nation by killing the world it is on!  It is quite hilarious, really.

July 5, 1999

We have spent the better part of the day re-establishing our communications array that was knocked askew by a rogue firework.  I had to call AT&T to come out and look at it, and they said next time they come out they would have to charge us forty dollars because we have equipment attached to our communications systems that we didn’t purchased from them.  How does that even make sense?  Do they expect us to not use the communications systems that we pay for because we are using computers that aren’t made by them for a problem that isn’t even something that I had control over?  Who do they think they are?  Our dial-up modems download at five kilobytes a second — it might be fast but we can’t afford to waste any more time than is necessary.

I’ve been a paying customer for 3 years and pay 150 dollars for our phone lines each month.  The funding for this experiment will run dry if there are too many more delays.

July 23, 1999

I have just got back from our funding meeting with Hersher & Globula, a multinational candy-making company.  Those goobers think they can just cut off my funding with no explanation when I ask for more operatives to take over the marina.  Well I got news for them!  I am so close to the discovery of what lies beneath the Long Beach Seaquarium, that I will find volunteers to help me – FOR FREE.

July 26, 1999

I’ve posted bulletins up on telephone polls for operatives to help me discover what lies beneath the crust of the Earth.  The response has been surprisingly overwhelming and I now have over three hundred volunteers equipped with their own gear and weaponry to put my experiment into motion.  The Landrill has completed its final tests and is now ready to begin digging in the whale tank of the Long Beach Seaquarium.

August 12, 1999

It is the first day we have full control of the Long Beach Seaquarium.  After we threw out all the marina employees and released the animals into the ocean, we activated the Landrill to begin its long trek into the crust.  The 345 security operatives have full control of the marina at this very moment and we are keeping the administration of the marina locked in their offices.  They are allowed to resume their daily duties, as we require food to be imported.  We may get sick of eating fish that was meant for dolphins and whales, but I do not plan on waiting long for our goal to be accomplished.

August 14, 1999

There have been three incursions to our sanctity by the local law enforcement.  Two by land, one by sea.  All I will say is that it was a good thing we brought torpedoes.  Due to our preparation and strategic location, we have very limited casualties and work on the Landrill goes swimmingly (pun intended).

August 17, 1999

The police chief has agreed to send us daily regiments of pizza to feed my army in exchange for one prisoner.  I believe this is a fair trade off, considering this one prisoner is so ridiculously illogical and talks about how she believes in God.  Honestly, how can you be a scientist and still believe in that good-for-nothing loser?  He is a rapist and a terrorist, and he’s probably guilty of murder.

August 20, 1999

Our quest to find what lies beneath the Earth’s crust is nearly through!  We have finally almost hit the edge of the crust with the Landrill.  We must be careful now, as the chocolate that lies beneath the Earth’s crust must be cultivated and sold to candy makers at high prices!  This will be the biggest discovery mankind has known since I proved that clouds are made of cotton candy!

August 22, 1999

As I write this, I felt it was important to note what evil I have unleashed upon this Earth.  There are DEMON CHOCOLATE BUNNIES UNDERNEATH THE MARINA!  They have dismembered fifteen of my operatives and our bullets and electricity guns do not harm them.  They slowly advance out of the hole created by the Landrill.  We are in a pincer attack situation, with Demon Chocolate Bunnies coming from within our position and police advancing from the outside.  This situation is hopeless, but when the police discover what is happening, I will be who has the last laugh.

 

AHAHAHAHhhhAHAHHA

AHAHAHAHAH

AHAHAHAH

 

AHAHAHAHAHAH

 

AHAHAHAH

 

AHAHAHHAHAHA

AHAHAHAHAHAAh

-~-

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The Magnificent Mr. Jharraque

August 10th, 2012 Posted in Fairy Tales, Stories No Comments »

There once was a lad, named Mr. Jharraque.  He wasn’t always always named this, but he was named it for the greater percentage of his life, to the point where if you were rounding up or down, you would be rounding up and it would be 100%.

Mr. Jharraque was born a man of 300 pounds.  When he was born, he was so large, his mother had been assimilated into this man and no longer existed.  Mother Jharraque may still live on in Mr. Jharraque, but since he is a freak of nature, its unknown.  Once Mr. Jharraque was released from the hospital’s baby ward, he was given a suit and a briefcase by the hospital staff who pooled their own money together to buy the items for him.  They wanted him to seem like a professional and find a job in the Commerce District of the Rubunthium Sector of the Januthliyu Bar and Grill Space Station and so that he may stark out on a life on his own.

It wasn’t easy for a three day old who had just naturally taken over his mother’s body like a parasite and eaten her from the inside, but after a tough learning process, he finally got a job at a drug store whose primary funds were to sell fad diet solutions.  Mr. Jharraque was not a normal employee of the establishment, but more of a “live model” of how any number of their fad diets may work.  They pumped so many different diet supplements into the poor man’s body that he lost 150 pounds in 2 days.  He ate nothing but dry chemical powder straight out of the bag with a large wooden spoon, chewing on diet pills non-stop, and ate “energy” gum to burn off whatever extra calories he might have had flying around in his blood after the other chemicals did their worst.

At 150 pounds, and almost no speech skills developed, Mr. Jharraque was depressed.  Mostly because of all the different chemicals floating around in his unnatural existence, he began to pine for something better.  Something better would not come for Mr. Jharraque, but something worse did.  Even though the labels on each of the diet products specifically said to not combine their diet products with other diet solutions, such as exercise, eating right, and the other products on the market, the non-discriminatory treatment of life by the Finhoogle and Nagle Drug Store destroyed Mr. Jharraque’s body and life with no remorse from the higher levels of the corporation, Mr. Jharraque was fired for crying.

“If Mr. Jharraque wants to cry, he can cry on his own time!”  Monty Finhoogle slammed his fist on the desk as Ken Nagle laughed at a picture of Mr. Jharraque in one of the promotional pictures they had forced him to be in with many of the different diet products they sold.

“If this fat 150 pound, 7 foot tall slob wants to have his emotions he can have no job!” Monty Finhoogle continued in his tirade.  Ken Nagle just kept laughing.

Later, in the backstreet alleyway behind the drug store, a jobless Mr. Jharraque pointed at things and grunted as he drank a lot of beer.  He pointed at a box and grunted again… and then a laser shot out of his finger and the cardboard box disappeared!  But not only did it disappear, Mr. Jharraque could FEEL the cardboard box be a part of him.

Mr. Jharraque was amazed at what had happened, he stared at his finger as he sat down.  He pointed his finger at another cardboard box and that box disappeared to!  He now felt what the life of an 8 x 12 inch cardboard box had.  Just then, the voice of his mother entered his brain.

“Jerry, you have finally discovered your hidden powers.  You have realized what it is like to be two different cardboard boxes with all of their unique experiences of having things being put in and taken out of them.  You are my son and I have awakened inside of you.  You now have the knowledge of a thousand eons of information and have the power to assimilate all that is around you.”

The Magnificent Mr. Jharraque had finally realized his true potential.

The back office of the Finhoogle and Nagle Drug Store lay quiet as Monty and Ken took a nap from their excessive amount of bellowing and fist-to-table pounding.  Mr. Jharraque stepped through the wall like a ghost and watched the two corporate fiends slumber.

Mother Jharraque’s voice emanated again.  “These men are responsible for kicking you out on the street, my dear.  It is time you taught them a lesson about what it is like to be human.  Break their fragile necks and show them that they are weak, worthless scum!”

Mr. Jharraque pointed his hands at Monty Finhoogle as he stepped closer and closer, aiming for his neck.  Monty woke up just before his neck became compressed between the large hands.

Monty grabbed his sharp stiletto letter opener and tried to fend off the attacker, but Monty’s soul was soon drained from his body and became a part of Mr. Jharraque.  Mr. Jharraque’s eyes began to glow and he picked up the shell of what was once Monty and threw it to the floor.

Ken Nagle had woken up during the assault and began to drink copious amounts of whiskey, knowing his end would soon come as well.  Ken threw five shot glasses as the monstrous Mr. Jharraque lumbered his way over to Ken.

“STAY AWAY, YOU MONSTER!”  Ken screamed as he backed up against the wall and tried to open the random cabinetry to find more things to throw at Mr. Jharraque.  Each of the shot glasses filled with whiskey sunk into Mr. Jharraque and each of the stories of the shot glasses became one with Mr. Jharraque.  Like, this one time Harry the Shot Glass was in the dishwasher and had an affair with July the Plastic Bowl.  Alfred the Spoon witnessed the foul acts occurring just above and while that was supposed to be a vacation, it was not fun getting all the dirty soap dropped on him from above.

Harry the Shot Glass was sued by his ex-wife, Mildred the Shot Glass and was forced to pay alimony of five molecules of dishwasher detergent every Sunday before seeing the kids.  He didn’t see why he had to pay to see his own kids, it’s not like they weren’t crafted in the glass factory from his own superheated sand.

Ken Nagle took a punch in the gut as he was flung across the room and into the door.  He busted through the door and as the splintered door pieces flew everywhere around him he began to crawl away, in pain.

Ken yelled to his secretary, Somya Fridaray, “CALL THE POLICE!  THIS MANIACAL DIET SUPPLEMENT ADDICT KILLED MONTY AND HE’S GOING TO KILL ME!”

Somya Fridaray stood up and opened her drawer and took out a smoke grenade.  She knew it would come in handy one of these days after she found it dropped by one of those ex-military men canoodling through the aisles of the drug store thinking they can just walk around wherever they want.

Somya threw the smoke grenade into the air and it began to fill up the small room with ease.  Mr. Jharraque couldn’t see anything anymore!  Oh, if he ever found that confounding secretary he was going to assimilate her like those cardboard boxes!  She has the wits of a rabid squirrel looking for a large acorn to satiate his thirst for blood, but realizing that acorns were no replacement for blood.

Ken Nagle and Somya Fridaray stumbled into the greeting card aisle outside of the office.

“Oh, it is so horrible, Somya!  He stole all of our shot glasses and made me drink all of my whiskey!  He would have pounded my face into a fine silicate dust if you hadn’t saved me!”  Ken Nagle confided to Somya.

Somya replied, “Do not worry sir, that is what I am here for—-“ and in the next instant a large red aura surrounded Somya and she disappeared!  Enveloped into the Magnificent Mr. Jharraque, she was.

Ken Nagle scrambled to his feet as he grabbed greeting cards as a defense weapon against  Mr. Jharraque.  Each progressively thrown greeting card sunk into his body and all of the corny stupid jokes became part of his vocabulary.

Mr. Jharraque shouted at Ken Nagle, “HAPPY 41ST BIRTHDAY!” and stomped on the ground with such force that made Ken lose his balance and fall to the floor.

“GET WELL SOON!”  Mr. Jharraque stomped again and Ken bounced up and down on the floor as he kept crawling away and into the Diaper/Beer aisle.

“Will someone please call the police!!”  Ken yelled at the diapers falling on top of him.  In a frantic panic, he opened as many beers as he could and tried to drink them all.  Sucking down fifteen bottles of beer empowered Ken Nagle to become Super Diet Man, who had the power of making non-lethal things into lethal things, such as diapers!

The diapers in all of the packages flew out and began to encircle Mr. Jharraque.  The flying diapers confused him, as he was only 5 days old at this point, and he had never worn a diaper in his life.

“Time to take out the used diapers, Mr. Jharraque!” Super Diet Man announced in a drunken delivery.

“HAPPY GRADUATION!!!” Mr. Jharraque jumped so high he jumped over the wall of flying diapers and grabbed onto the air conditioning duct hanging off of the ceiling.  Mr. Jharraque all of a sudden became sick and he fell to the floor and started puking.

Super Diet man stood laughing at Mr. Jharraque, and they became friends.

Moral:  Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear – beer before liquor, never been sicker.

-~-

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Hooty McHoothoot and the Ducks of Doom

August 6th, 2012 Posted in Fairy Tales, Stories No Comments »

Hooty McHoothoot was sitting on his branch in front of a flock of pigeons.

“What do you get when you cross an owl and a mouse?”

The pigeons all looked at each other, anticipating the answer.

“I don’t know, but I sure wouldn’t want to eat it!  That’d be like eating my brother!”

The pigeons all looked at each other, not really understanding.

Hooty McHoothoot fluffed his feathers and expanded his wings.  “Whoohaaa!!  That was hilarious!!”

* * *

It was a cold black night in the middle of Hinjojeseph City, Maine.  In an old, abandoned bread factory once run by the Doomsday Bread Corporation, several innocent ducks found their way in.  This group of ducks had heard stories of the plentiful bread crumbs that could be located in the old bread factory, and the opportunity had presented itself to find their way in.

Dally, Yabigail, Paulty, Rowry, Arolu, and Muhduriug were so excited to have finally found their way into the abandoned warehouse, they began to gorge themselves on the bread that had seemingly not lost any of its flavor even though it had been abandoned for a few years.  What the poor, innocent ducks did not know was that the bread made at the Doomsday Bread Factory was demonic bread made with the demonic spices of Turnevil and Meanolasses, to name a couple.  The bread was so good in fact that it was too good.  Too good in fact that it was sinful.  So sinful in fact that it would make whoever ate the bread in large quantities into evil maniacal beings bent on destruction.

Dally Duck and Yabigail Duck were the first to turn during the night.  Their feathers turned dark red and their wings began to grow claws on the ends.  Their feathers became more like scales than feathers and their beaks turned black and pointed.

The rest of the ducks turned by the morning and soon they were in one of the back offices of the factory, colluding, about what nefarious deeds they should undertake.

The ducks all stood in a circle — all of them scheming about what destruction they would bring about.  But, first they had to name themselves.

“What about Red Bi-pedal Ducks of the Impending Not-So-Far-Off Apocalypse?”  Muhduriug Duck suggested.

“No!  Too corporate!  If the Doomsday Bread Factory catches wind of any money-making empire we make down the line they may sue us for trademark violation!” Arolu Duck threw up his wings into the air.

“How about Doomsday Ducks?” Rowry Duck suggested.

“I KNOW!  DUCKS OF DOOM!”  Paulty yelled.

“You’re a genius, Paulty!” Yabigail clapped her feet together on the floor in excitement.

“Yes, good going Paulty!”  “You’re the best Paulty!”

All of the ducks loved their new name as they quacked and danced around.

* * *

Hooty McHoothoot was perched on a pier in front of a flock of sea gulls smacking their stupid feet on the wood boards in front of them.

“Knock knock!” Hooty announced to his “audience.”

The sea gulls slapped their feet against the floor some more.

“Who’s there?” Hooty filled in for his audience.

“Who.

Who who?

Hoohoohoo I’m an owl!”

Hooty waited for a response but the sea gulls just slapped their stupid feet on the wood boards in front of them.

Hooty McHoothoot fluffed his feathers and expanded his wings.  “Whoohaaa!!  That was hilarious!!”

* * *

The Ducks of Doom were in the Collusion Room of the Doomsday Bread Factory writing stuff on paper.  Their writings consisted of diabolical and oh-so-mean plans to fit their group name of “Ducks of Doom.”

“How about we replace all of the water with liquid Einsteinium?” Muhduriug Duck suggested.

“Impossible!  How would we ever be able to transport all of that Einsteinium and where would we put all the water???” Arolu Duck threw up his wings into the air.

“How about evaporating all of the water?” Rowry Duck added.

“I KNOW!  WHY DON’T WE PUT THE EINSTEINIUM INSIDE THE WATER!” Paulty yelled.

“You’re a genius, Paulty!” Yabigail clapped her feet together on the floor in excitement.

“Yes, good going Paulty!”  “You’re the best Paulty!”

All of the ducks loved their new doomsday plan as they quacked and danced around.

* * *

Hooty McHoothoot was sitting in a branch of the United States government called Congress.

“What do you get when an owl gets elected as a member of the government?”  Hooty asked Congress.

The members of the US Congress were slapping their stupid feet on the floor and looked at each other in anticipation of the answer.

“I don’t know, but he wouldn’t be MY friend!”  Hooty delivered the “punchline.”

The members of the US Congress continued slapping their stupid feet on the floor and looked at each other, not really understanding.

Hooty McHoothoot fluffed his feathers and expanded his wings.  “Whoohaaa!!  That was hilarious!!”

* * *

Muhduriug Duck was driving a semi-truck and backing a large tank of Einsteinium towards the ocean.

Arolu Duck was motioning the truck back more and more as it came upon the beach.

Rowry Duck, Yabigail Duck and Dally Duck placed wooden boards underneath truck as it got ever-closer to the ocean.

Paulty ran across the beach and yelled something incoherent.

All of the ducks stopped what they were doing and looked at Paulty.

“QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK!!!”

Muhduriug Duck adjusted his trucker hat and looked out the window and spit on the ground.  “WHAT?”

Paulty finally caught his breath and announced to the Ducks of Doom:

“We’ve been foiled!  Congress has done something worse than we could have done!  They passed a health care bill!  That means our Einsteinium poisoning of the ocean will be negligible because everyone will be healed!”

All of the Ducks of Doom lowered their heads and quacked off into the distance as they went back to the Doomsday Bread Factory.

The semi-truck full of Einsteinium stayed neglected.

That was until Hooty McHoothoot flew over and landed on the semi-truck.

“Hm, I wonder what this stuff is?”  Hooty McHoothoot took out a straw and took a big swig of what was inside.

Poor Hooty McHoothoot began to glow and all of the color in his feathers disappeared!  He was all white, and not only that but his eyes turned into glistening diamonds surrounded by a gold trim.  His beak became solid metal as well as his talons.  His eyebrows went out of control and grew into his moustache and down the sides of his cheeks.  His eyebrows pointed off and became horns.

Hooty McHoothoot squawked as his diamond eyes blew a hole into the atmosphere, degrading the O-zone layer.

Hooty McHoothoot fluffed his feathers and expanded his wings.  “Whoohaaa!!  That was hilarious!!”

 

Moral of the Story:  Clean up after yourself.

-~-

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Local Exchange: An Eruption of Stupidity

July 29th, 2012 Posted in Fairy Tales, Stories 1 Comment »

Based off the following post:

http://squackle.com/22567/screwed-up-chronicles/daves-kingdom/scam-call-from-local-exchange/

Harry Brown and Mildred Jacklesmith once had a great idea.

“Why don’t we scam people?” Harry Brown said.

Mildred, obviously in agreement, shouted at the top of her lungs.  “YESSSS!!!!!”

And so a company was born.  It was named Local Exchange and it was in San Dimas, California.  Or maybe it was in Villaverde.  Is that even a city?  To tell you the truth no one really knows what city it actually is in.  Not that it matters because absolutely all of their business would be conducted over the phone.

Local Exchange invested in a phone number that provided unlimited calling and texting.  Obviously, to scam people you need to call them unlimitedly and text them non-stop.  Otherwise, the whole scam thing doesn’t really seem very scammish!

The first order of business was to create the scam.  The scam of all scams.  A scam that everyone would believe but only the smart people would question and only the smart people would see it was a scam.  People who were smarter than them, even.  But that’s not the target market, now, is it?

The scam had been planned out in a matter of days.  First, they would call a random number and ask to speak to the “owner of the phone” to make it sound official.  Once they had the owner of the phone, they would tell them about the grand prize they had won and how everyone knows them locally but to get notoriety in different parts of the country, they were expanding their random 6-day cruise prize to different areas of California.

Once the person had given them their credit card information and social security number, they would hang up and begin to apply for credit cards and home loans with their information and take out cash advances.  And then they would invest that money into online payment systems.

Yes, life was grand in the most successful scamming company of all time.  Local Exchange posted huge profits and Harry and Mildred bought huge mansions once owned by drug dealers who fell victim to the scams.  Poor drug dealers lost their drug dens, but they weren’t the only victims to the grandest scam of all time.

I will now tell you about a lady who was down on her luck.  She thought she was the luckiest person in the world and won a free 6-day cruise to New York from California.  Oh, what a joyous occasion it was.  And all she had to give them was her name, address, social security number, and driver’s license number.  Overnight, this wonderful, nice lady had transformed into a blathering hobo asking for change at bus stop benches.  The day before she had been a worker at McDonald’s but when it came about that another Emelia Prancasa applied for a job at Burger King across the street with the same information as “Our” Emelia, that’s when McDonald’s fired her.  They couldn’t have a worker working at two fast food restaurants at the same time.  That would be espionage in the making!

Poor Emelia.  She can no longer work at any fast food restaurant because she became the most notorious fast food restaurant quadruple agent ever to be known.  Too bad she wasn’t hot cause she was quite ugly and not very attractive to boot.  Sometimes ugly people can be attractive, but sometimes they are just stupid.  Like Emelia.  Because she thought she won a 6-day cruise when in fact she won nothing and lost it all.

The end.

Moral:  Don’t give away your private information to random people who call you on the phone telling you you won a 6-day cruise.

-~-

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The Secrecy of Knowing Nothing: The Destruction of Cal State Emptierton

July 27th, 2012 Posted in Fairy Tales, Stories No Comments »

There once was a man who knew literally nothing.  He would go to work, sit in his chair, stare at the wall for 8 hours, and then go back home and stare at the wall for another 16 hours.  He didn’t sleep because he can’t dream because he has nothing to dream about because he knows nothing, like I said earlier.

He was literally paid to stare at a wall and make sure it did not fall down.  There wasn’t even any paint to watch peel off or dry because it was literally just a wall.  This man, named Gabriel Nosenovich, was good at his job, as dumb as it may seem to you.  He did do other things, though.  He had a desk, with a phone, and a pad of paper.

He would receive work orders from other parts of the campus and write down what was requested to be done at the school.  This school, known as Cal State Emptierton , employed a large workforce of idiotic manual labor workers who created a huge bureaucracy for the purpose of inflating payroll.  When a light bulb or something like that blew up, they would call Gabriel and tell him that it was broken.  Gabriel would then write it on a piece of paper and then give said paper to another person who would evaluate the cost of said project which would then go to another team to go investigate and see if the prior estimate was valid.  Then this new estimate would be re-evaluated by another department which would then be reviewed by the initial estimate and the process would repeat itself until a number that everyone decided on was agreed to.  Considering it took forever and a half to get a light bulb fixed, what would come next would be surprising on more than one level.

One day, he got a call from a disgruntled bookstore manager.  The Emptierton College Bookstore just fired one of their book managers and he thought he might play a trick.  He requested a work order to demolish the bookstore.

Gabriel, obviously knowing nothing about anything, wrote the work order request as normal and handed it over to the next department.  Obviously no one in the Construction Ward had been notified that the bookstore manager had been fired, so no one questioned the intent.  After the whole bureaucracy of deciding how much it would cost to demolish the bookstore, it soon happened.

There was outrage from all corners of the campus.

“How could you have demolished the bookstore?” the President of the college, President Tasyst had asked.

“There was a work order.  You can’t question a work order,” the head of the Construction Ward, William Vable stood firm in the policies created by the Construction Ward of Cal State Emptierton.

The next day, another three requests came in to destroy other buildings on the campus, and soon there were no buildings left on the campus other than the Construction Ward.

Finally, one last call was given and someone had put a work order in to destroy the Construction Ward itself.

It took no less than a day to destroy the Construction Ward, and there wasn’t even much deliberation over whether or not they should do it.  There was a work order, after all.

Moral:  Don’t hire maintenance people who are idiots.

-~-

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