Belina knew he was a dark and stormy knight, but she loved her
Ethelred to distraction, even if he seemed curiously unready
to make a commitment.
She had plied him with meade and delicate viands and polished his
halberd nightly to no avail. "If I could just get my hands on some
bootleg Viagra", she thought. "Perhaps that would do the trick."
gRTz149f led his troops — albeit only three of them, for he was but yet
an interplanetary intern barely past the First Order, Level A, Green
section, and had yet to prove himself—toward the alien craft, which was
obviously made on an inferior metal, and save for a rather tall antenna
on one end, did not seem to sport any communications equipment worthy of
note. Indeed, gRTz149f wondered how the strange craft flew at all,
and—judging by the green, apparently growing vegetation surrounding it
(a substance that seemed to irritate most of gRTz149f's dorsal
receptor-nerons)—it had not flown for quite some time. A tiny speck of
doubt raised its minute head in the back lobe ofgRTz149f's
lower-anterior sub-maxillary brainstem, and he considered the
possibility that this craft was not the one that his commander had
ordered him to seek out and rehabilitate, but gRTz149f, professional
that he was, dismissed the doubt—or at least relegated it to a cranial
subcompartment to be retrieved later for advance conjecture. Holding his
left appendage high and projecting the attitude of bravado that had
marked him for greatness at the Mfwrtz Intergalactic Academy, he
signaled his troops to bring their Amorphose Subglomulatary System
regulators onto the alien craft which, gRTz149f noticed, bore a small
plaque on its end with an inscription that noted "Beech Deluxe Model-A7,
Bubba's Trailer Sales and Tanning Salon, Ltd," and gRTz149f wished he
were able to decipher the alien message, for he felt sure that it held a
key to the craft's mysterious and antiquarian look.
Nonetheless, his party had arrived to study and rehabilitate the alien craft, and gRTz149f felt—as much as a Mfwrtzian could feel, for his was primarily a thinking, not feeling, race— it was his obligation to render what aid he could. As he noticed two of the craft's inhabitants, it occured to him that this might be a craft belonging to a peculiarly primitive, albeit backward, race, and any help he could give them would not be nearly enough to bring them up to intergalactic standards (at least as set forth in the newly revised manual). To show that h meant no harm, he blinked three of his eyes in the universal signal for friendship, but the pair of aliens (whether different sexesor possibly just variant levels of the same sex, gRTz149f wasn't quite sure) gaped at him with open ocular and oral cavities, a signal that wasn't on the list of standard intergalactic greetings. gRTz149f decided that wariness was the order of the day.
Meanwhile, Tif was in the dining room of the doughnut shop, gyrating sadly to the radio. At this hour of night, when radio signals from all over the county grew, Puff-Daddy started to cross with "Achy Breaky Heart." The combination was not unpleasant, thought Tif.
She turned in the slowly flashing red neon light outlining the shop's smiling-doughnut logo. The smiling doughnut (its hole was squashed into a crescent to give the effect of a smile) was held by a widely grinning man with a red-checkered shirt with several tubes of white neon outlining his teeth. A few tubes were burned out, giving him rather more of an authentic look than anticipated. The doughnut was dunked, still smiling in one moment, and then in the next moment the man was biting the lower half of the now-wide-eyed doughnut off, with the hole forming a very surprised "O" that somewhat resembled a scream.
Some sulphur-winged moths danced around the sign, occasionally zapping to their dooms if they got too close to an exposed socket. Tif wondered where Clovis was. Clovis would stand and stare for hours watching the sign and the moths. Such simple pleasures, thought Tif.
"Tif, where in Sam-hill are you? I got cheese dripping all over the place here! Get that pretty little head o' yourn in here!" called Billy-Bob.
"Comin', BB," she responded. As she turned to go the the kitchen, a sound she first took to be a large truck sounded suddenly behind her. There was a flash of brilliant blue-white light from behind her, causing her shadow to erupt on the counter in front of her. She slowly turned around. That there was no truck headlights, she thought...not even cousin Enos' double-wide with extra floods and chasers -- and no less than three batteries to power the whole thing -- made that much of a searing blaze.
"Girl, what the hell's keeping...you...uh..." Billy-Bob started as he emerged from the kitchen, his initial ire supplanted by disbelief and wonder.
Before them, the features of a small blue figure slowly emerged from the near-blinding light. Big-headed and black-eyed, he put up his left appendage, seemingly in a greeting. Billy-Bob and Tif did the same, slowly.
The alien then pointed quickly forward with the same hand, and three other aliens of varying shades of blue emerged carrying enormous cylanders made out of some sort of transparent material. The devices were about two feet long, and hooked at the base to a round, black, rubbery-looking cap with glowing lights and tubes. A tube ran through the center of the device, and it seemed to pump some sort of gooey, greasy looking fluid to the tip of the instrument. Billy-Bob and Tif both had the phrase "business end" come to mind, but Billy may have been a bit swifter on the uptake.
"Jesus Christ almighty, they're...they're gonna probe my anus," Billy-Bob noted with a tone of outright fear, wonderment, and perhaps an ever-so-mild salacious intrigue.
Tif looked at Billy-Bob and wondered what her cousin had to do with all this.
The author comments, "Can't talk, eating pork rinds..."
Beverly, huddled under the bleachers, sniffed back a tear. Kicked off the
cheerleading squad! All of her mother's dreams for her, dashed! How could she
even go home now?Could she have forseen that the pale, well-dressed young man she had seen flying past her window the night before would behave so strangely upon being let in?... No, anyone would have made the same mistake. Beverly pulled out her compact to check her appearance. Unfortunately, there was no reflection to go by. Sighing heavily, she replaced the makeup in her green backpack. There was nothing for her at this school anymore. Once word got around that she had bitten Tiffany Miller on the neck...Well, the rumors would never stop! Suddenly, glancing around, Beverly felt her heart lighten. Across the football field she could see the marching band warming up. New friends! That group would take anybody! Running her tongue over her newly sharpened canines, Beverly hurried to join the group--choosing a place near an overweight trumpeter. Perhaps, she thought, his weight will prevent his escape. The day was turning out better than she had hoped.
The author comments, "DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME! IT IS ONLY A DREAM:-)"
"We love to eat at Joe's crabhouse... I't's yum, yum, delicious.""Cut!" Screamed the director. Your acting career is over, Van Boobs! For years you have relied on the talent of young, helpless Swedish children and now fate has revenged you with bad children who can't act. Go back to singing!
"It had been years since the TenBoobs' careers were ruined. They were forced into the mafia. Grandpa Boob moved his way up as "Father Boobio"; "Little Kimmy" and "Petie the red terror" became infamous drug dealers. One day Petie got busted on a sting operation and was forced to give the names of his family members.
Now the TenBoobs make licence plates in the NYPD jail, but not before they sent a fellow mafia member to bomb Joe's Crab house.
The author comments, "This site is a blast!"
Thanks!
She had just been fired from the Piggly Wiggly for tokin' in the meat department. She bopped and flipped her beautifully bleached blonde main like a like an Arabian in heat. Her body glistened with moisture and her mascara dripped from her sparse lashes like bootblack on white-face.
"Tif, get your ba-Hankas in here, I forgot the recipe for this Cheez-wiz delight."
