Thursday, 29 January 2009

the transubstantiation of ecto matter to purse.

Hauntings are often caused by the dead being miffed at the living.
In this case, in the winter of 1797, Jennifer Plouge (centre) caused
what was described at the time as 'a haunting'.
According to Jennifer, she found a glob of stuff on the kitchen table
and wiped it up. Later that night, she and her sisters had a seance.
They said it failed as the sisters only contacted what appeared to be
the rat that lived under the floor.
The following morning, however, Jennifer found a tiny purslette
upon the kitchen table, where the stuff had been. Assuming that
it was just another fabled 'pixie present' she took it and filled it
with rouge and olden days lady things.
What followed was many days of bangin' and shaking of the kitchen table.At that special time of evening, about five after six, you could see
that it was the ghostly shape of Danny the Tranny who used to
live down past the lake in the old mill.
He had died whilst running outside to catch the icecream horse
and cart as it passed and got his head smashed up from one of
the mills sharper sails. As if that wasn't bad enough ...
... to die, icecreamless, now he was to be tormented by one of the
dirty live-ers playing with his trannysac.
dirty feckin livers.

Tuesday, 20 January 2009


... yes, he just wanted their approval, but the saddest thing ...
the saddest thing was this; they were both deaf as two posts and his
wonderful songs could not be heard. Not by them. Not by anyone
within what would normally be considered 'earshot'.
Pinkly tried, day after day, but whenever they DID notice him, his
parents just smiled lovingly and patted him on the top of his tiny head.
He played and played on his tiny pianisimo miniotica.
Until one day his parents sent him away.
Not being able to hear his music, they just assumed he was a little
pink mentalist and had him sent to the loony bin.
The bars, of course, could not hold Pinkly. He may have been small,
but was as strong as FOUR tiny men. This however is not how he
escaped. The bars are just far too big and widely set to hold such a
small person. During his escape Pinkly tried busking in Rocklebridge,
the nearest big town he knew.
The realisation hit him only halfway through his second song ...
The entire town was deaf.
For this was the harsh reality; Pinkly was the only 'person of hearing'
in the entire STATE. The clue was right there in it's name.
The grand state of Deafonoby, just there between Earshot and Karl.
Pinkly got a job in a local green grocers, helping to clean the fruit
and veg. His area of specialisation was the tiny tomatoes.
They became known as Pinklies.
It didn't bring him any joy, however, as all he wanted to do was play
his p'ninano and sing his heart breakingly beautiful songs.
At the end of each month, pay packet dragged in a miniature barrow,
he would travel on the bus back home to Muttontown to visit with
his folks.
They had long since apologised for sending him up to Maddleton
Crazy Institute ... and the three had made their peace.
One day, just before Pinkly turned 21, his parents told him something.
He wrote on a piece of paper that he had already figured that out.
Then, one month later, when it was his birthday, they told him
something else.
So that's it, that's when the boy decided it was time to make his mark.
Time to cast a shadow on this town, this State, and seek his fate.
He left on a Tuesday and his shadow was indeed long.
-End of Part one-

Monday, 19 January 2009

Stupid Rules Cause Trouble in the Long Run

It was a Thursday when it all started.
You know how I remember it was a Thursday? It's because I had a
milky iced cone.You see it all started because the Beardchov's from next door couldn't
have iced cones on thursdays. Some stupid rule their family had.
THAT'S how I know it was a thursday .... because as usual, little
Uloff Beardchov threw a wobbler. Their mother said we should not
tease him, but we weren't, we really weren't.
Just BEING next door doesn't make us taunters.
Next thing you know old Beardoff Beardchov, their grandfather was
out front scowling as if we were guilty or something.
That's how it all started, those years of neighbourly feuding.
Who'd have known that it would come to this. Here we are, nearly
thirty two years later and Uloff is out on the front lawn restraining
old man Beardoff, now in his late 90's, from throwing clumps of grass
at the windows.
Every single Thursday. Even when we're not having iced cones.
That man throws clumps. He's mad on clump throwing so he is.
So, anyway, don't pay him any attention. Just come right in ....

Saturday, 17 January 2009

Wait !

You almost forget yer hook.
She was sick of 'babysitting'.
"He's not even a baby anymore, mother, why can't
he just look after himself"
"You KNOW his head spins loose, Mariet, you know he's practically
a garden fence in the brains department." Said Momma Gaspod
"Besides, I'm busy inventing the 'garbage disposal unit' and I'm very
close now, so please, watch the boy won't you"
Mariet, grumble faced as usual, attended to her brother.
"Go I fishim" bluttered Felt.
"Yes, you are going fishing", she couldn't be mad at him.
He was what he was, and after all her complaining Felt was her brother.
"Catch fad fishim GOOD"
"Yes, yes you probably will. Supper is at seven I think"
Mariet understood her brother like no one else could.
One day, her years of helping him would pay off.
In 1905 Felt Gaspod won first place in the fishhook bend-off of North
Mallard county.
The 'loose necked idiot' they called him.
By now he was 19 and his neck was indeed loose. He had learned to
ignore peoples taunts. Not only did he win, but on the way out of the
stadium he saved a mans life.
His sister, thinking fast, instructed Felt to use his winning unbent hook
and enjugulate it into nurse Amy's neck. She was choking on a seed and
if not for Mariet's quick thinking, she should surely have passed.
"Stick I neck neck"
Felt Gaspod. Loose necked wonder of North Mallard.

Thursday, 8 January 2009

Marble Archway was sick of print.

"I almost went off to the mill and forgot my lunch", said Chit as he
turned heel and swept back in the door.
"Can I come to the mill with you ?" eagered Marble with his hand
raised, proper as always.
Marion smiled a doting smile at her handsome boyfriend.
"Oh Chitty Fulcrom, you really are a 'forgetty betty' today, aren't you"
oozed Marion.
"You said, if I got here in time you'd let me come. I HATE my job as
the chief editor at the newspaper already, and I SO want to get into
the milling industry" pleaded Marble.
"I know, I'd forget my face if it wasn't so handsome", said Chit.
Marble Archway HATED being ignored.

Thursday, 1 January 2009

crosseyed strays

The Larpy FamilyThey would have been happy own normal looking dogs, but as it was,
perhaps because of their own closely set peepers,
people with feckeyed canines thought that the Larpys would make
perfect masters.
They did. They were a lovely family.
"They're a lovely family", people would say.
Little Larry (pictured between his parents) liked cats, but his parents
didn't believe in mixing species in a household.
Larry Larpy, as much as he really DID like dogs ....
... opened his own feckeyed cat santuary when he was 19.
Later he expanded and took in dogs too, for he believed that all
'ocular position impaired' animals were equal. Even beadyeyed pigs
and goofy looking horses.
His parents would visit but never really say anything about the mixing.
They supposed that it was his adult right to choose. He thinks that they
even mellowed in their shady years, and thought well of him for being
so kind.
The Larpy legacy lives on.
Sure aren't they nice people, look at them there.

He might have been a leader

.... but he was a feckin' bully

Always with the headlocks and the tripping. Officer Dennis was
always joking around.
"Oh I've stabbed myself with my sword"
"LOOK OUT ! the locals are attacking"
Worst of all was how he treated Harry Brown, the squad's cook. Here we
see him in a typical headlock.
This was the last such photo of Dennis, for in camel's back terms, this was
the last and final, and heaviest clump of straw. Thus breaking the hump.
Cookie Brown had had enough.
As Dennis stumbled back into the mess hall, shouting
"Stabbed, by god. Stabbed ... with my ... own ... ceremonial .... swoord"
The soldiers just laughed, as usual, a laugh of duty.
It wasn't until luncheon was finished and Briggs noticed the carpet thick pool
of blood beneath Officer Dennis, that everyone realised he had ended.
With the blunt end too.
Officer Dennis.
Gone, missed, mourned. His death however was never investigated.
I suppose that says more than anything.
Don't bully.


be good


Or at least, WERE evil.It's harder to catch them now, they're more wily ... or at least
they have better help. Yes, I think that's it, they have a better
quality of goon than they used to.
Damn you Modern Evil Old People and your having a better
quality of goon than you used to.

hamstropolis prisoner

by aBowman