Anti-Barney the Dinosaur Song #24745

(Verse 1: Tune of The Old Gray Mare)

Barney’s made of greasy, grimy, gopher guts
Greasy, grimy gopher guts
Greasy, grimy gopher guts
Barney’s made of greasy, grimy, gopher guts
And his friends do stink!
P-U!

(Verse 2: Tune of The Battle Hymn of the Republic)

Barney is an awful singer
His voice is painful like a stinger
He must go on Jerry Springer
And there he’ll be disgraced!
JER-RY! JER-RY! JER-RY! JER-RY..

 

Dave’s Notes: Sylvester and the Magic Pebble

This entry is part 2 of 5 in the series Dave's Notes

There was this stupid kid named Sylvester Duncan and he had a hobby of collecting pebbles.  What a douche.  Honestly, he couldn’t figure out something better to do with his time?  Did I mention he was a donkey?  No?  I guess I spoiled the midway surprise if you read this without any pictures attached like I did.

So, anyway, this donkey liked to collect pebbles.  He found a magic pebble that was enchanted by a novice wizard who was getting used to new incantations on the hill nearby Sylvester’s home town.  This wizard was probably a gopher, and he’s not in the story at all.  But you know he’s watching…

Sylvester is so happy when he finds this pebble because he wants to be a geologist one day and he would be the first donkey geologist anyone had ever conceived for a fairy tale.  He was going to be famous!  Sort of.

Anyway, this pebble grants wishes and he wished for stupid shit to happen, mostly to do with the weather.  As he was skipping along on the way home, instead of using the pebble to travel around wherever he wanted, like a smart donkey geologist would, he encountered the hobo murderer lion that lived on Strawberry Hill — and he had an appetite for stupid donkey geologists such as Sylvester.  He just ate the giraffe seismologist and he wasn’t too filling.

So, like the dumb donkey he is, he wishes that he was a rock and loses grip of the magic pebble.  Well, now Sylvester is a rock.  I told you he was smart, now he gets to see how life is like being a rock.  The lion takes a piss on him and leaves him to die.  If only the lion knew the power of the magic pebble, he’d be a respected and unfeared member of the animal populace.  He’d also have fairy tales written about HIM.  But I guess not.

So, Sylvester fell asleep for 20 years.  During that time, his parents looked for him, but it was all for naught.  After three almost-divorces and taking the lion to court for kidnap and murder three times (there was no such thing as double jeopardy in Oatsdale, but there was something called justice and parental negligence), the Duncan Donkey parents forgot about their son and tried to live on without him — which wasn’t hard.  They turned his room into an exercise room and tossed out his shitty pebble collection.

So, one day the Duncans went for a picnic and a screw on Strawberry Hill where they started remembering about their son from 20 years ago.  They found a pebble on the ground which just happened to be the magic pebble and wished that Sylvester was there, so they could beat the shit out of him for leaving the house all those years ago for a stupid hobby.

Hark!  The rock Mr. Duncan had his ass on turned into their son and they beat the shit out of him like they wanted.  They dragged him home by his ear and locked him in a cage.  They put the magic pebble in an iron safe so that no one would wish for stupid shit anymore and because the Duncans were already rich from the Duncan vs. Oatsdale Police court case where the Duncans charged the Oatsdale Police with conspiracy for covering up the disappearance of Sylvester.

Little did they know, the lion would get a lawyer to prosecute the Duncans for defamation of character in the disappearance cases and would retain all of the Duncans’ possessions once they found out Sylvester was trapped in the Duncans’ house.  Which meant Sylvester would get put into slavery (since he became a possession) and the magic pebble would sit in a locked safe owned by a lion who didn’t know the combo.

This whole time, the gopher wizard was sitting at home watching Street Sharks on DVD and enjoying the company of his gopher prostitutes.