Saturday, 30 May 2009

special child WiNS again

... and so with deadly precision and the anger of ages they fought.
19 minutes gruelled on and on ... it seemed as though Stump was
victorious when he sheared not one but both of Bum's arms off.
Front Bum's arm had begun to swing, however, and severed or not it
continued along it's course. It's arc lead it to the neck bone of Stump.
The perfect edge of the sword went through his neck bone with a silent
hush that can only be described as beautiful, if violent sword induced
death can be described in such terms, which to these warriors it must.Then a sound welled up from the silence, an agonised scream.
Confused, Front looked to the de-bodied head of his fight partner.
Not from him.
Front looked down to see that Ruddy Stumps sword had reached it's
goal, but AFTER the moment of his uncapitation. His lonely body's
final stab at life. Final stab, at death.
Front Bum's dying wail seemed like his soul escaping ... what his kind
believed to be a sweet reward.
On this day, neither would win the child.
So now, once again the child wins, and none are left to tell the tale.

fight over special child

This day was to be one of great excitement, the like of which they
would speak about for eleven centuries.
Ruddy Stump stood against Front Bum to determine the fate of the
special child.

in them days, he flew pantsless

Yes. Things were different back then, people were more amazed by
his sky flight than anything else and didn't mention, except behind half
closed doors, his unpantular appearance.
"Maybe where he's from they don't HAVE pants"
"I heard he's from Manchester, they call them trousers over there"
"Well he can't be from there then can he, if they have a name for them,
whether it be 'pants' or 'trousers', he'd still know of them wouldn't he."
"No, he must be from somewhere else. Perhaps South Shields."
- they would say.

Tuesday, 26 May 2009

she hid in the hippo of men

here, another older one, but hey, she's STILL hiding.
Well done, you.

Monday, 18 May 2009

1942. tiny men. collateral damage.

behind the walls.
behind the struggle against evil.
behind closed doors, during lunch hour.
rationing was tight.and so tiny men, captured scurrying around their feet, were
thoughtlessly prepared and consumed.
they never said it was right. They just never said anything at all.
as their parents had always told them:
-it's rude to talk with your mouth full (of tiny men).
It's only in modern times that the eye is on them ... we are quick to
judge 'what they did in them days'.
what would YOU have done, when the choice was 'tiny men or nowt'
well, there might have been beans. If there were beans you might
choose beans.

Sunday, 17 May 2009

Friday, 15 May 2009

ghasp! shocking report :

In recent news ... FAKE !
National news of heat-a-'eat-a-heaps' recently ran an article of such
pink, hideous lies that it pains 'wu' here at ofsquinTS to 'out' it.
However, out we must, and out we shall ....
- take THAT Bembridge scholars.

mmmm warm and bananular*

here, I just thought of something funnish.
wouldn't it be amusing if you could go to your local tandoorior and
get a banana naan.
I like banana (plural)
I like naan (singular or plural)
why SHOULDN'T I combine said wonders.

from the boxof dictionary of squintology:
*bananular: of or referring to bananular matters - things of a
bananalitic nature -
objects ranging from the bananiscule to the bananigantic.

Thursday, 14 May 2009

100th post! and with that, there's trouble brewing

why can't we all just get along?

Wednesday, 13 May 2009

Tuesday, 12 May 2009

Epilogue type thing.

Now we have the turn, the reversal.
The prize was indeed a wondrous one. The xbox of Chankoom.What Peter 'the blood red one' did not foresee, was the curse that
follows the prize. You see, he just ran off in high spirits when he found
out about the prophecy, not turning the page and reading the post
script which clearly lays out the flip side, the curse that accompanies
the box. That's hot headed monkeys for you.
It is this :
Monkey kind can not handle video games.
He was doomed to sit, sort of but not really understanding how to play.
Sort of, but not really 'getting' the controls. Sort of but not really
enjoying himself (for every game would default to hard).
Sort of (but not really) for all time.
He was cursed now, Peter, to sit and to stare.
Even in years to come, when his body fails and is naught but a husk.
When the blood red has gone from his cheeks and he is just dark
red-ish brown.
Then, when he has become what is further prophesied as
'The dark red video game zombie monkey of Chankoom' ...
... then, it is said, another chosen one shall come, and with true
knowledge and skill, get passed the boss on level 7, and free Peter
from his, sort of but not really, torturous hell.
That, however, is another story ....

Monday, 11 May 2009

... but still, Peter nabbed his treasure

Look at his happy monkeyed face there.and he has ken's hat an' everything. Captain Blood Red Peter.

... but don't forget poor ken

I mean, he's dead. That's horrible that death. On to spikes, like.
That'd knack somethin' rotten.
Well, he DiD do mean things to them monkeys there.still though, his death is partly on YOUR hands. You watched.

part 10: the prize!

The swirling ! Tingling !
with everything in it's place, the treasure is released into the hands
of the blood red monkey.
A box of such riches. Wealth of kings.The stuff of which legends are
made. yes, 'stuff'. Yes! 'legends'. YES! 'made'!now, it's all his, it belongs to Peter, leader of some blood red monkeys.
The fabled Xbox of Chankoom.

Sunday, 10 May 2009

part 9: just when you thought the tale might turn

It doesn't. No. ken is dead there. You can see him there all spiked an' that.
Down in that pit,
- then, now, a swirling, tingling sound rising ...
.... is there going to be some reversal of fortune !??
probably not, I mean ken's dead, clearly ...
.... but IS he !? but wait ! .... no.
No, he really IS dead, I mean who could survive a mad fall like that,
and on to some rusty spikes an' all. There's no way you could survive.
Yet, there is still that swirling tingling sound ....

Saturday, 9 May 2009

part 8: and the sky did darken ...

.... and the wind, it stopped (all of the sudden, like) and the leaves, they
stopped swaying and even the ocean seemed to hold it's breath for
about 30 - 37 seconds.
... oh, and even the birds all flocked off quiet like.
The Deed is done.
Ken with a little k, except for there at the start of that sentence, didn't
even make a noise as he was pushed in.
The prophecy has been played out. Fulfilled you might say.

Sunday, 3 May 2009

part 7: yes ... the chosen one is ready to be sacrificed

Next thing you know, the grab comes, from either side ...
the two OTHER blood red monkeys you didn't even know were there.
So now, to coin a famous phrase;
'the captor becomes the other way around.'
It seems the 'chosen one' was not to be Peter the Blood Red
Monkey after all .... it was to be ken.
What a turn up for the books THAT is, eh ?

hamstropolis prisoner

by aBowman