81Xth Story So Far...
Created | Updated Dec 22, 2005
It was a dark and stormy night. In a high tower room in Castle Dreadknickers, Maurice the seaweed merchant looked up from his
knitting and wondered why it was so very
quiet and lonely. Thursdays nights were usually
a night for throwing seaweed at
Albert Ross, whose flamboyant choice of clothing generally
provided a good target. But on this night,
He was naked
except for a pair of red Doc Martens
, a suede, tartan kilt
and a pair of sequined pasties. "Hey!" he exclaimed, reaching for
a seltzer bottle full of..
small blue pills to cure any...
male-pattern baldness and...
impetigo. Suddenly the Draft whooshed through the tower room, blowing
papers up into the air and out onto the street below, where someone could...
find the details of his Swiss bank account. He hurried down the stairs
, only to see a dark shadow disappear, clutching the papers. It reminded him of Theodore Bannon...
, Maurice was concerned that Theodore might discover the contents of his bank deposit box
which he hadn't seen since
his late wife had shut it away two years ago.
Maurice decided to pursue the shadow, and
wished he didn't smoke 40 a day. He panted at the first corner
and discovered that Agnes, the zombie masseuse had left a trail of massage oil leading to
despite the draft, he girded his loins,
the local pub, which was known to serve up a healthy plating of
spam, the meat mind you, not unwanted e-mail.
Although Agnes liked the other kind, especially e-mails from Nigeria asking for money and ads for viagra from a certain Booger Bulger.
Booger Bulger tested Viagra on ferrets and sent the results via email to Agnes, who
had a sinister interest in all things musteline.
(The Ferrets had no complaints.)
Booger was planning on using ferrets to conquer civilization and rule the world, but someone was out to stop him, someone who was named
in a secret dossier prepared by
Booger Bulger. Booger had a crisis of conflicting identities, but with a hand mirror, he managed
to avoid bad hair days and any attempts to thwart his evil plans. Maurice, on the other hand
to avoid looking too different from his own photo ID in front of Hank Honk, the Security Goose at...
CLI
Hank loved to eat the flowers off the security desk,
but unfortunately was allergic to hybrid petunias. They gave him a rash on his
belly, which (luckily for him) Mothra Stewart lovingly treated twice daily with Fucus Serratus purchased from Maurice at a price
attendance at a Czechoslavakian spelling bee.
The current spelling bee champion was Digits McPherson, who liked to steal the letter Q out of people's
(notice how he stole a h to replace his a)
quills
rendering them fit only for General Public to use to enquire after people's health.
Digit looked sadly at..
his collection of 'q's and wondered whether
he should get some 'p's to go with them
but then he thought that he'd have to mind them...
which would be far too much hassle, instead he decided
to consult Mothra Stewart with a view to using them to
make a training toy for Tiddles, who not only doen't know the difference between a p and a Q, but gets her p's and pee's mixed up as well. Tiddles was not amused and
wee'd on Digit's lap. Mothra chuckled at his attempt to stroke Tiddles on his lap like a Bond villain. Digits had a plan. He was going to use Booger's
research into ferret sexuality to entice Albert into a compromising situation and
persuade Maurice to provide the funding for surveillance equipment. But Maurice had just returned to his tower room at Castle Dreadnickers, on that dark and stormy night, clutching his wet and tattered
Sheleiligh which was given to Maurice by...
Gloria Mundi as a love token when their secret affair had ended so dramatically. Only one other knew the truth..
General Public, in honor of his fine seaweed merchanting skills. You see, seaweed was the one thing Booger and Mothra were
concerned might provide a defence to a rampant ferret. Chinese sources hinted that a seaweed thong could protect for up to two months. Too long for...
Agnes! She was impatient. Entering the tower stairway, she oozed up to the door of Maurice's room and
carefully screwed out the light bulb before opening the door.
Ouch! Agnes forgot how hot lightbulbs can be and burned her fingers. Luckily she always carried
some spare fingers in her knapsack, but sadly
they all seemed to be little fingers for the left hand. 'That will look a bit odd' thought Agnes, but she cheered herself up with the thought of...
the new and wonderful knitting techniques which would be available now. Unless, of course, the situation proved to be
highly dangerous, what with the surplus of p's and q's Digit had unloaded on the world letter market. President Hypatia baked a pumpkin pie, and Agnes
Agnes couldn't help but wonder if a little seaweed would go with it (Maurice was really getting to her), but she
did not know how to cook, and therefore thought seaweed went into everything. Maurice had a special room at Dreadknickers
for his seaweed still. Suddenly the Draft blew the door shut, trapping Maurice and Agnes in a
a darkened corridor with an unusual odor. Could it be Booger Bulger's unwashed work clothes, or possibly
a few q's rolling around on the floor with the ferret droppings. Ferrets, as everyone knows,
are really good at hiding things. Especially their own
seaweed thongs, which ferrets are especially good at making with their little claws.
Their claws were perfectly manicured, because MR sent them to her manicurist in Orange County. Orange County was Gloria Mundi's home turf
. Gloria Mundy sat silently fuming, with an outward smile for the costumers. She had almost had it with this cover-up job involving far too many ferret claws and having to listen to their terrible stories about
plastic tubing. She thought if she had to hear just one more
rendition of
Musteline Rag she would throttle the squirmy little culprit. The bell on the parlour door rang and Theodore Bannon flashed her a smile. 'Now what time does a beautiful young creature like you....
have to be back at
the Atelier?" As Gloria Mundi blushed and dropped her eyes she noticed that
a string of seaweed was trailing from Theodore's left troser leg. Interesting she thought, why....
the bell be ringing now?
But the sound was all in her head. It was the sound of the mess bell from her days as a
lion tamer with Ringling Brothers Circus.
The ringmaster of the circus was Albert Ross, who tried for years to get Ringling Brothers interested in his death-defying ferret act, which consisted of
the ferrets doing all of the...
breakdancing that he wouldn't, on a tightrope over a pit of...
placing a fire eating ferret in a lions mouth while balancing on a tight rope. However the animal rights....
coalition, led by Tiddles, began making plans to
Take over the burgeoning black market of faux...
...fur Christmas decorations. Now, in this particular
darkened hallway, there were about fifteen ferrets and three or four large barrels of seaweed liquor, so it was only a matter of time before
Digits and Albert and the ferrets made an incendary device. They had a plan, but they need a criminal mastermind like
Maurice. Maurice, however, had returned to his tower room with a fresh light bulb, intending to
...fix his EZBake Oven, which had been on the fritz lately after...
trying to turn lead into gold while using it...
as a seaweed powered fusion reactor. Lack of seaweed liquor had stalled the master plan and the intransigence of Albert the ferret master.
Albert sat on his favourite ferret cage, buffing his nails in frustration, when in came...
Maurice. 'Oi sweety, got any special in at the moment' Albert enquired 'my bladder could do with a good wracking.' Albert doubled up at his own joke.....
but the wind changed, and he found himself stuck in this contorted position. 'How very
uncomfortable." He was delighted when Draft blew in a few minutes later and wafted him back to normality.
"I suppose you're here to persuade me to restart the liquor processing. Well.." Albert's sneer was cut short as Maurice grabbed his scraggy throat and hoisted him out of his pink, fluffy mules.
Maurice bellowed
, a sound which was picked up on the instruments of the space ship being flown by intrepid but morally indifferent space pilot J C Cones. Cones looked over at the display and
saw the Seaweedian Activity detector approaching critical. This called forimmediate action.
Cones ordered tea and rock cakes for everyone except
himself, as he fancied a cinammon bun and some
slightly burnt toast smeared with
WD-40 for the automatic pilot.
Cones loved the smell of WD 40 in the morning, almost as much as he loved
the taste of 30 weight oil
in the air of the engine room after evasive maneuvers. Steering carefully, Cones dove and entered the atmosphere at just the right angle to
adjust his scarf in a dashing manner, but not enough to
hang himself.
The scarf however had knotted itself around
the neck of the automatic pilot, who by this time had finished his coffee and was
remembering fondly the weekend he spent in Las Vegas with Gloria Mundi. She was working as
an undercover
scuba diver. It was this job that led to her first meeting with
the ultra-rare aquatic thesaurus
and his even rarer land-cousin, Roger.
Gloria spent a lot of time in Vegas playing the
The ferrets did not like thesauruses
they did have an affection towards encyclopeadias however
and the entire collection of the 1972 Encyclopedia Brittanica, featuring the misprinted Cad-Caer volumne, including a scandalous picture of
Lassie. Maurice heard the whining sound of a rapidly approaching space craft. Quickly he
ran to the door
dived across to the telephone and dialled...
857-5309. "D**n you, Tommy Tu-Tone!" he shouted.
before remember that the prefix was 867. He chuckled ruefully and fondly thought of Digits, who was always a help in these
matters. She always knew just what to do
, or at least she gave the impression she did.
Digits , Agnes and Booger decided to have some breakfast before
the spaceship landed. Maurice made seaweed omelettes while Agnes made
a horrible mess as her fingers were still not quite right (see earlier).
but fingers are susceptible to mittenitis, brought on by Ag knitting you a pair of 6-finger gloves using wool made from
used S.O.S pads, but it is the thought that counts, at least that's
what J.C. Cones was thinking as his spacecraft landed in the ancient stone courtyard at Dreadknickers Castle.
Cones carefully began setting up the overly complicated security system that would protect the ship while it was landed and he was out, though he knew that over 75% of the security systems would never be tripped.
But it was tripped, by a gang of feral ferrets led by Tiddles P. It was revenge for
frivolously formulated feral ferret fritto misto
in new "Persimmon Breeze" scent with stain fighting powers. Tiddles P instantly wee'd on
the one item of furniture in the building that could not be shampoo'd. Cats are like that.
Realizing that the alarm had been tripped, J C Cones looked back to see his space craft being swarmed by ferrets. He shrugged and
got out his feral ferret blaster and took careful aim, which caused the ferrets to
run around in small circles, singing or, rather, shouting
at Tiddles P. Tiddles ignored them, having noticed that Agnes
removed a packet of giblets from the large droopy pocket on the front of her motheaten cardigan. He knew he was going to get a treat, bad cat or no
Seeing Tiddles eyeing up the bag of giblets Digits fought back his own revulsion, sidled up to agnes and triumphantly stole his own wallet from his coat pocket
Feeling the sidle, Agnes turned and slapped Digits, losing several more fingers. ¶J C Cones ignored the activity and continued to
fill out his application for employment with Ringling Brothers-Barnum Bailey Circus. He had a dream
of becoming a performing bear, if he could just figure out how to stay on the tricycle.
teach his pet llama, Salvador Dali Llama to
sing Motley Crue's Girls! Girls! Girls! in Yiddish.
But that was an impossible dream, so he aimed low and hoped to cure Tiddles P's incontience with
a little known concoction called
Zappit ! It was guaranteed to take the piddles out of Tiddles with only one application. Tiddles, spying the bottle, ran like
a zombie was after her. And a zombie ~was~ after her! Agnes had become fed up with the lack of action in the plot and decided to
sex things up a bit with an exciting car chase, followed by a montage of gunfights and WMD usage. Cones was impressed because
he fancied himself as Steve McQueen in every car chase scene ever made and
even he had never been able to get quite so many explosions going on quite so insubstantial a pretext. He decided to...
actually do something, rather than talk about things he could do. Reaching the tower in the courtyard of Castle Dreadknickers, he
flung open the heavy wooden doors and found a horrible stench coming from
an empty pizza box that had been sitting there for possibly a month.
Booger and Digits had ordered a pizza with extra anchovies on it, and abandoned it in Castle Dreadknickers as part of their plan
to entice
Albert Ross into making a pact with
Tiddles into range so they could test their newly invented cat incontinence underpant. Tiddles however hated anchovies, so...
they decided to attract Gloria Mundi instead. But she was in Tahiti this time of year
Albert absent mindedly threw a kipper fillet for Hank to retrieve while he continued painting his toenails a shimmery gold. It wasn't working. Bannon had Maurice over a barrel knowing about the Swiss bank account and the General suspected that Booger and
and Mothra might be in cahoots. There was however another way...
with a dead battery in her cell phone and a
song in her heart...
the song was one of those songs you can't get out of your head once it's in there, like
"Young Girl" by the Union Gap, or
or "Hot Potato" - Don't pick it up, pick it up...
or even the highly sinister "Saturday Night" by the Bay City Rollers. Gloria could hear it now: S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Night! She clutched her head and
tried to drown it out by singing, "I don't think that I can take it, cos it took so long to bake it, and I'll never have that recipe again..."
concentrated on getting things done. Right now, the most important thing was to
get out of Tahiti on the next flight.
All flights were cancelled, thanks to J.C. Cones. He sabotaged Tahitian Airways because he found out
that due to peanut allergy scares they were instead handing out packets of
seaweed, which obviously put a spanner in the works of
Maurice to corner the world airline seaweed snack packet market. Passengers were known to show a preference for
long walks on the beach and long, relaxing baths
- all notoriously hard to supply on an aeroplane. 'Are we making sense yet?' asked...
the faithful old retainer sitting in his deep, plush armchair in the library at Castle Dreadknickers. "Certainly not!" declared
Mothra Stewart, who was busily knitting a £75 wooly hat out of musty old seaweed snacks she had pilfered from the airplane.
The faithful old retainer pulled the retainer out of his mouth, as it was hard to make himself understood.
"Qwghlm gllfdd arse," he enunciated carefully, just as J.C. Cones burst into the tower room. The draft
wafted along the floorboards, wafting clumps of cat hair in the direction of Mothra, who suddenly had an idea
why don't we go...
--" Cones interrupted Mothra. "My sensors received an alarm call. I have come to rescue
everyone who needs rescuing." Without waiting for a reply he grabbed his
autographed Smith and Wesson experimental combination flame thrower and granade launcher and pointed it at Tiddles who was in the middle of a Piddle and who shrieked and hid behind
Mothra, who said calmly 'As far as I know, this leaky cat is the only thing that DOES need rescuing. But I have a hunch that we should rush up the stairs now and burst through the doors in a startling and adventurous manner.'
And so they all rushed up the stairs except for Digits, who had slipped in a puddle of piddle and fallen on his face. Bursting through the door, they
Without warning, Agnes burst through the door. Cones grabbed Tiddles and Mothra and aimed his gun at Agnes. "Get back!" he screamed
Suddenly Booger, dressed for honeydipping and smelling as bad as he looked, dashed through the door and grabbed Tiddles. Tiddles managed to free himself and make a hasty exit stage left. But before he went he grabbed
two ferrets and ate them with gusto. Digits burst into tears and threw a letter Q at Tiddles. Gloria Mundi parachuted through the window
wearing Maurice's trousers
and Agnes' motheaten cardigan. "That's *my* cardigan!" Agnes screamed, and ripping it off Gloria's head, tumbled into the driver's seat of her gangrenous Aston Martin, keeping her promise of delivering an exciting car chase.
"You fingerless excuse for a masseuse," snarled Gloria, jumping into the passenger seat and trying to grab the cardigan, "What
bloody finishing school did you flunk out of you stupid cow? Hand over that sweater!" "Never!" screamed
Agnes, who put the pedal to the metal, which caused the Aston...
to sit there because a certain dumb bitty forgot to turn on the ignition, let alone check the mirrors and
jumped out of the Aston, kicked one of the tires because it looked flat and dashed off to her Harley. Agnes started the hog, donned her Hell's Angels jacket and pealed off
. Cones and Mothra stood on the steps, watching the girls on their bikes hurtle into the distance. 'I wonder where they're going?' said...
Cones, who was a bit surprised to see the Aston Martin turn into a bike. 'I wonder if CLI has invented a
transformation-jamming lock, to stop that happening again.' Mothra pondered this and then
punched Cones in the head. "I'm going after them!" she shouted, and screeching her peculiar metallic cry, jumped into the Aston Martin and (remembering to check her mirrors first) starts the car and jams on the accelerator. "And that's *my* cardigan!"
Up ahead, on one of the motorbikes, Agnes was having trouble with the brakes on account of her continuing lack of fingers. As the road began to twist down the side of Dreadknicker Mountain,
...she heard the sound of Mothra Stewart's car rapidly approaching, and the sound of J. C. Cones' secret laser blaster firing after it. "No one punches me for free, Mothra Stewart!" J. C. shouted, his voice echoing all the way down the mountain. "NOOO O
OOONNNNEEEE!!!!"
The car began to choke and splutter. Mothra had forgotten to check the fuel gauge. "Empty! Damn that Tiddles," she screamed. "He was supposed to fill my tank!"
J. C. Cones ran back to his space craft, deciding to rescue Agnes but not Mothra. "She can dang well walk," he muttered as he entered the hold, unaware that
Digits, in a rare display of skill, had stolen his keys
and replaced them with Tiddles' catnip mousie. Tiddles was enraged when he saw Cones holding Mr. Mouse and attacked his
hands with a ferocity hitherto not hinted at. In reaction, he poked
Tiddles in the eye with his thumb and threw the catnip mouse into the bushes where it
control panel, inadvertently starting the
spacecraft's cappuchino machine. Quickly J.C. Cones was enveloped by foamy brown bubbles. Meanwhile, Mothra realized that Tiddles had filled the gas tank of the Aston with widdle, and had given up in disgust. Spreading her gigantic moth wings, she
flew after Agnes and Gloria. She did not notice that Tiddles, with a very self-satisfied smile, was still clinging to her boot.
Suddenly Mothra realised her foot was cold. "Where's my boot gone?" she wondered. Tiddles waved the boot in the air and
Landed on four paws down, like all cats can. Mothra watched enraged as Tiddles decided to
sell the boot on eBay. Then she flapped onward, until she was directly over
a large vat of potted shrimps, diving
for pennies. Gloria wondered why the shrimp were diving for pennies as she overtook the bikers. "Oy!" she shouted, "That's MY cardigan!"
a large vat of potted shrimps, diving
for pennies. Gloria wondered why the shrimp were diving for pennies as she overtook the bikers. "Oy!" she shouted, "That's MY cardigan!"
a large vat of potted shrimps, diving
for pennies. Gloria wondered why the shrimp were diving for pennies as she overtook the bikers. "Oy!" she shouted, "That's MY cardigan!"
Now whay do I get the feeling I've just seen that pot of shrips twice she thought.
Someone up at Castle Dreadknickers must be meddling with lightning again. It plays merry hell (hah! I said hell!) with continuity". The cardigan in question was showing signs of...
But the cardigan will remain a mystery for now, because Booger Bulger landed in the middle of the scene, flamethrower in hand. He shouted
as the Draft blew the flames back over his hand, and dropped
to his knees, weeping like a little girl. Ferrets jumped out of his backpack and swarmed all over
his head, festooning it with the seaweed thongs they had made earlier. Meanwhile, Mothra Stewart had caught up to Gloria and Agnes, where they were engaged in a bit of tug-of-war over the motheaten cardigan. Gloria got a good pull in and Agnes' arm came
off with a moist popping sound. 'Hah!' Gloria shouted. 'You're disarmed!' Gloria waved the cardigan and the arm in the air triumphantly.
Having earlier regained control of the instrumentation, J.C. Cones' spacecraft suddenly appeared, hovering over the group. Agnes looked up and
, grabbed her arm from Mothra, and used various fingers and bits of her arm to spell "HELF" on the ground. She didn't have enough body parts to spell help and so Mothra kicked
both motorbikes over the edge of the road. The bikes bounced and spun down the steep cliff and burst into
Flames, rather startling Theodore Bannon, who was in the habit of visiting nightclubs to try to pick up some nice young ladies and this night happened to have selected Flames for his evening's entertainment.
showers of iridescent bubbles. The girls stood watching, awe-struck. Flames, yes, they had expected. Bubbles was a new one.
Unfortunately, Flames was not in the cast of allowed characters, so Bannon waited for the space craft to land and then
called in a favor from the space ship commander to secure enough of the ready to purchase Flames so he would have extra leverage with a particular showgirl who was thjen instructed to find Agnes and
organize a date between Agnes and Digits McPherson. Cones looked out the window from the bridge of his ship and looked dubious. "Why
do birds suddenly apprear, everytime Agnes is near?"
are you looking dubious, Cones?" asked
the control panel, whilst simultaneously doing an internal test for Karen Carpenter anomalies.
"You would be dubious, too," Cones replied, "if every time you
turned on the radio in the cockpit, out came the swinging sounds of
The Vogon Light Orchestra!" Suddenly a bullet pinged against the hull. "We'd better get outside," said Cones, heading down the corridor to the hatch, "and
decorate the outside of the spaceship with tacky Christmas lights!" Mothra stopped him
before he could add seventy-two flashing Santas, though. She slashed
a giant inflatable snowman filled with helium, which took off at a rapid pace toward
the Strindberg Memorial Balloon Park. Maurice watched the snowman fly past his tower window and shook
his snowglobe, in a misguided attempt to see the future. Agnes was Maurice's usual soothsayer, and she burst into the Castle brandishing
some seaweed to dry it. He was making one of his favourite dishes, seaweed
a la king. 'Maurice!' Agnes cried. 'If you don't stop cooking right now, we'll destroy all life on this planet!'
'That's not fair,' Maurice replied. 'Just because my attempt at pumpkin bread turned into a black hole...'
Digits has sworn off carbohydrates for the rest of his life!" "That won't be long," murmured Agnes, mentally comparing her lack of digits with Digit McPherson's
lack of style. Agnes clutched a granade in her fingerless hand and pulled the pin with her teeth. One, two,
yes, two teeth cracked and fell out from the exertion. "Darn these pins! Were they welded on?" exclaimed Agnes in her frustration and
threw the grenade to the ground. The pin came off as it bounced and
Meanwhile, Tiddles, in conversaton with his/her therapist discovered that
she had a fear of litter boxes because
they're rather icky, aren't they? But the
she had a fear of litter boxes because
grenade hit the therapist in the head and exploded, making further conversation with her impossible.
Unless one was a zombie, of course. "Hallo ducks," trilled Agnes, "Got any spare fingers?" Meanwhile, Cones and Maurice had carjacked the Aston-Martin and
were trying to work out just what it was on in the passenger footwell that was causing the smell. "I can't stand this any longer, I need to get out of here now!" cried
Maurice, who executed a daring high-speed leap out of the Aston Martin, landing heavily on
his ankle which gave him a bad sprain. He hopped off toward
Ben's new home. He wanted to be early for her April meet because
the seaweed problem was set to go critical soon after. 'Must bust in early May!' he shouted as...
Maurice accelerated the Aston Martin down Dreadknicker Mountain. Meanwhile, back at
the castle, Mr. Conversationalist F. Unclothed, software salesperson, was knocking at
a small door that suddenly appeared in the floor. The door opened revealing...
Tiddles P, catnip mousie in claw. Tiddles sprang on Mr. Conversationalist P. Unclothed, and dragged him through the trapdoor to
the curtain in front of Door #3, which led to
a dusty museum filled with Astin Martins that had been driven by fingerless.
Tiddles Ran from Mr Unclothed. "Drat that cat!" said
Agnes as the retreating feline left a little puddle at her feet
that soon became a rather large puddle. Mr Unclothed, on the other hand,
slipped on the puddle and fell over.
A yellow stain on the seat of his trousers called attention to the fact that
he was packing heat. He was there to assassinate
Hank Honk
using only a small syringe of pottassim choloride
and a ball race.
The ball race was especially deadly, and knowing this, Mr. Unclothed screamed in fright. Especially when he spotted
several balls apparently belonging to famous historical despots. Three belonged to Napoleon, four to Stalin and seven to Genghis Khan. Hitler, though, had only one.
It was a masquerade ball. Meanwhile, the Aston Martin still rushed precipitously down the road from Dreadknicker Mountain. Rounding a hairpin turn, Maurice stamped on the brake, only to find that Agnes' disembodied arm had gotten wedged under the pedal.
Agnes vowed to be more careful in future as she was running out of expendable body parts.
J C Cones vowed to ignore any future bellowing noises coming from the direction of Dreadknickers.
Unless it was Gloria Mundi doing the bellowing. Cones had a soft spot for Mundi because she taught him jiu-jitsu at
the Atelier School of Eastern Arts, run by
an elderly janitor wise in the ways of the world,
who was assisted by Chloe. But this was no time for reverie. Maurice
was a man in search of a plot. He drove up alongside the Aston Martin in an unmarked car and began to
moon the passangers. This so distracted them that theyran the car into a ditch where
hide seaweed thongs in the Aston Martin's boot (err, trunk, if you're not British).
the motorbikes were still burning. Both cars exploded and
soon after the sound of the fire brigade's sirens could be heard. Before they arrived, however,
they had a nasty fender-bender with a Hispano-Suiza. Gloria was at the wheel
but was talking on her cell phone and polishing her nails at the same time, so it wasn't surprising that
the nail polish bottle became wedged in Maurice's buttocks, who was still wedged into the window of his vehicle.
As the vehicle was burning, and as nail polish is flammable, it was inevitable that
he was shortly going on a one-manned space flight to Mars. He struggled
and struggled to try to release the nailvarnish bottle from between his buttocks and, thanks to the propellant effects of a huge bout of flatulence, it eventually ......
dislodged with such force that it struck
Digits McPherson in the groin. As Digits crumpled with Pain, a flock of ferrets
rushed up to him, Christmas decorations in claw. They trimmed his tree, so to speak, with
the utmost care. Digits was startled to notice
that every time he moved something either tinkled or twinkled. "Oh dear", he sighed, "This is going to.............
require the services of
seriously interfere with my plans to seduce, well, anyone...
except for Agnes, who's a bit of a roundheels." Digits rattled his tinsel and lurched
purposefully towards the attic room where he kept his...
old sets of Lilttle Black Books. He was looking for one in particular, the one which
contained the names and phone numbers of everyone who'd ever......
had ever spend Christmas at the Elvis is Alive Museum in Wright City
The books were nowhere to be found, but as he opened up a musty brassbound chest he discovered
old film reels, revealing an alternate ending to Citizen Kane!
He always thought Kane was overrated, so he set fire to the film. Booger burst in the room and
sprayed the room with foam, using a special
triumphantly said, "so you think that was the only copy with that ending?" Now, I know that
we need to end this story soon, but I insist that you reveal the alternate ending to Citizen Kane!" And, pulling out a pearl-handled
revolvefr, a diamond point phonograph needle and a set of new blades for a sled that was actually named
Toto, Maurice jumped in a time machine and went back to the year 1939
. He joined a radical militant glee club and never returned to the present.
Meanwhile, Gloria Mundi had taken every body part from the story and reattached them to Agnes. She was thrilled to get her fingers back, but hadn't planned on the new location. Mothra Stewart, taking advantage of the distraction, finished eating the mot
motheaten cardigan.
For a long time after the incident, J C Cones suffered from a ferret infestation in the hold of his spacecraft.
The ferrets *were* fixing Cones' transmission and
quite forgot that space crafts don't have gears. Digits found himself
However, his roaring business in airplane seaweed snacks shaped like minature thongs more than made up for the inconvenience.
Booger decided to corner the market on these new seaweed snacks, so he kidnapped
Maurice and Mothra, threatening to kill them both unless the formula was truned over to him along with
several tonnes of
ferret droppings.
Maurice and Mothra, having no wish to be near a tonne of ferret droppings, snuck out the back door when Booger Bulger wasn't looking. Little Bunny Fru-Fru, hopping through the forest, saw the open door and decided it was time for some ferret-bopping.
The ferrets were nonplussed and returned to Castle Dreadknickers, with seaweed snacks
loaded in their handy-dandy catapults. The Castle loomed
darkly on the horizon. Then a death ray from the spaceship caused the castle to explode. The seaweed vaporized and the ferrets were turned into hurtling masses of DNA.
Strangely enough, the DNA they were turned into came from a rare breed of Madagascarian Hamster, and not ferrets as one would have thought. Such was the power of the explosion.
It was heard all the way in Tahiti, where Gloria Mundi was preparing to fly home to
her beloved orangutan. Unfortunately, before she could board the plane, the airport was vaporized by Mothra Stewart, whose Mega Ray was acting up.
But Agnes, taking vengence, threw a giant mothball and exterminated Mothra.
Hank Honk, who had stowed away in the unmarked car,
Booger heard Mothra's dying screams and ran
Hank Honk, who had stowed away in the unmarked car and Booger heard Mothra's dying screams and ran to reclaim Mothra's death ray which misfired vaporizing Booger and giving Hank Honk a nasty
case of the heebie-jeebies. Hank wondered what heebie-jeebies actually looked like, so he carefully opened the case to find
his anti-matter duplicate. They touched wingtips, and Hank Honk and Knoh Knah imploded in a flash of light.
Agnes sat on a park bench, feeling lonely, but still alive.
Then she realized she was a zombie.
How on earth did I get to Hati? Agnes asked. And where are
the ferrets? The ferrets were the last to
to arrive at the McDonalds whose golden arches glinted at the base of Dreadknicker Mountain. As they scampered in,
the smell of fresh french fries filled the air, attracting our heroine
who ordered a Big Mac while trying to re-arrange her various body parts so that they were all in their correct places. The ferrets, however,
had other ideas and surreptitiously swapped her big toes and thumbs before maliciously over seasoning her fries.
Cayenne pepper was in the seasoning, and Agnes
fed the fiery fries to the ferrets. In inly a few minutes,
the ferrets started to cough and wheeze from the getting a mess all over...
Cones' spaceship. The ferret-coated cayenne provided fuel
, enough for Cones to escape the plot. Shovelling furiously, he
began to sink lower and lower. Next time, he'd remember to shovel with a bit more care.
He tried to remember what his mum always said you should do if you find yourself in a hole, but it wouldn't come to mind, so he kept digging. Eventually he
got blisters.
Agnes helpfully gave Cones some soothing bag balm, and he promptly picked up his gun
and shot every single one of the ferrets between the eyes. "I'm tired of your ferreting around, you little rodents!" Meanwhile, Agnes the Zombie was suffering from salt poisoning from the fries
and she bloated like nobody's business, except for her physician, Z. No woman is happy with the bloat going on, so she shot
Hank Honk just for spite, since she was herself already dead. Meanwhile, down at the McDonalds, in the kitchen,
trouble was brewing, along with double toil. Out of the chip fryer came
a chip holding a flamethrower and screaming
"Your seaweed or your life!"
The ferrets, genuinely terrified, whipped off their sea-weed things and threw them at the chip, knocking it over. The flame-thrower went off with a whoomp and carbonised both the seaweed thongs and the golden arches.
The chip survived, donned a ninja outfit and went in search of
a Ouija board in hopes of contacting
anyone in the cast that hadn't already been slain or started out dead. Heading back up the road to Dreadknicker Castle,
he was scooped up in the beak of a raven that had a taste for kung food.
The flame thrower fell onto the roof of the castle and
incinerated the curtains hanging in the window. Ben was pissed, because they were velvet-lined and
went up in flames. However, the flames were a lovely orange color.
The flames matched Ben's
knickers, unbeknownst to
the rogue chip, who felt sorry for torching Castle Dreadknickers and bringing an end to
the story.
THE END
knitting and wondered why it was so very
quiet and lonely. Thursdays nights were usually
a night for throwing seaweed at
Albert Ross, whose flamboyant choice of clothing generally
provided a good target. But on this night,
He was naked
except for a pair of red Doc Martens
, a suede, tartan kilt
and a pair of sequined pasties. "Hey!" he exclaimed, reaching for
a seltzer bottle full of..
small blue pills to cure any...
male-pattern baldness and...
impetigo. Suddenly the Draft whooshed through the tower room, blowing
papers up into the air and out onto the street below, where someone could...
find the details of his Swiss bank account. He hurried down the stairs
, only to see a dark shadow disappear, clutching the papers. It reminded him of Theodore Bannon...
, Maurice was concerned that Theodore might discover the contents of his bank deposit box
which he hadn't seen since
his late wife had shut it away two years ago.
Maurice decided to pursue the shadow, and
wished he didn't smoke 40 a day. He panted at the first corner
and discovered that Agnes, the zombie masseuse had left a trail of massage oil leading to
despite the draft, he girded his loins,
the local pub, which was known to serve up a healthy plating of
spam, the meat mind you, not unwanted e-mail.
Although Agnes liked the other kind, especially e-mails from Nigeria asking for money and ads for viagra from a certain Booger Bulger.
Booger Bulger tested Viagra on ferrets and sent the results via email to Agnes, who
had a sinister interest in all things musteline.
(The Ferrets had no complaints.)
Booger was planning on using ferrets to conquer civilization and rule the world, but someone was out to stop him, someone who was named
in a secret dossier prepared by
Booger Bulger. Booger had a crisis of conflicting identities, but with a hand mirror, he managed
to avoid bad hair days and any attempts to thwart his evil plans. Maurice, on the other hand
to avoid looking too different from his own photo ID in front of Hank Honk, the Security Goose at...
CLI
Hank loved to eat the flowers off the security desk,
but unfortunately was allergic to hybrid petunias. They gave him a rash on his
belly, which (luckily for him) Mothra Stewart lovingly treated twice daily with Fucus Serratus purchased from Maurice at a price
attendance at a Czechoslavakian spelling bee.
The current spelling bee champion was Digits McPherson, who liked to steal the letter Q out of people's
(notice how he stole a h to replace his a)
quills
rendering them fit only for General Public to use to enquire after people's health.
Digit looked sadly at..
his collection of 'q's and wondered whether
he should get some 'p's to go with them
but then he thought that he'd have to mind them...
which would be far too much hassle, instead he decided
to consult Mothra Stewart with a view to using them to
make a training toy for Tiddles, who not only doen't know the difference between a p and a Q, but gets her p's and pee's mixed up as well. Tiddles was not amused and
wee'd on Digit's lap. Mothra chuckled at his attempt to stroke Tiddles on his lap like a Bond villain. Digits had a plan. He was going to use Booger's
research into ferret sexuality to entice Albert into a compromising situation and
persuade Maurice to provide the funding for surveillance equipment. But Maurice had just returned to his tower room at Castle Dreadnickers, on that dark and stormy night, clutching his wet and tattered
Sheleiligh which was given to Maurice by...
Gloria Mundi as a love token when their secret affair had ended so dramatically. Only one other knew the truth..
General Public, in honor of his fine seaweed merchanting skills. You see, seaweed was the one thing Booger and Mothra were
concerned might provide a defence to a rampant ferret. Chinese sources hinted that a seaweed thong could protect for up to two months. Too long for...
Agnes! She was impatient. Entering the tower stairway, she oozed up to the door of Maurice's room and
carefully screwed out the light bulb before opening the door.
Ouch! Agnes forgot how hot lightbulbs can be and burned her fingers. Luckily she always carried
some spare fingers in her knapsack, but sadly
they all seemed to be little fingers for the left hand. 'That will look a bit odd' thought Agnes, but she cheered herself up with the thought of...
the new and wonderful knitting techniques which would be available now. Unless, of course, the situation proved to be
highly dangerous, what with the surplus of p's and q's Digit had unloaded on the world letter market. President Hypatia baked a pumpkin pie, and Agnes
Agnes couldn't help but wonder if a little seaweed would go with it (Maurice was really getting to her), but she
did not know how to cook, and therefore thought seaweed went into everything. Maurice had a special room at Dreadknickers
for his seaweed still. Suddenly the Draft blew the door shut, trapping Maurice and Agnes in a
a darkened corridor with an unusual odor. Could it be Booger Bulger's unwashed work clothes, or possibly
a few q's rolling around on the floor with the ferret droppings. Ferrets, as everyone knows,
are really good at hiding things. Especially their own
seaweed thongs, which ferrets are especially good at making with their little claws.
Their claws were perfectly manicured, because MR sent them to her manicurist in Orange County. Orange County was Gloria Mundi's home turf
. Gloria Mundy sat silently fuming, with an outward smile for the costumers. She had almost had it with this cover-up job involving far too many ferret claws and having to listen to their terrible stories about
plastic tubing. She thought if she had to hear just one more
rendition of
Musteline Rag she would throttle the squirmy little culprit. The bell on the parlour door rang and Theodore Bannon flashed her a smile. 'Now what time does a beautiful young creature like you....
have to be back at
the Atelier?" As Gloria Mundi blushed and dropped her eyes she noticed that
a string of seaweed was trailing from Theodore's left troser leg. Interesting she thought, why....
the bell be ringing now?
But the sound was all in her head. It was the sound of the mess bell from her days as a
lion tamer with Ringling Brothers Circus.
The ringmaster of the circus was Albert Ross, who tried for years to get Ringling Brothers interested in his death-defying ferret act, which consisted of
the ferrets doing all of the...
breakdancing that he wouldn't, on a tightrope over a pit of...
placing a fire eating ferret in a lions mouth while balancing on a tight rope. However the animal rights....
coalition, led by Tiddles, began making plans to
Take over the burgeoning black market of faux...
...fur Christmas decorations. Now, in this particular
darkened hallway, there were about fifteen ferrets and three or four large barrels of seaweed liquor, so it was only a matter of time before
Digits and Albert and the ferrets made an incendary device. They had a plan, but they need a criminal mastermind like
Maurice. Maurice, however, had returned to his tower room with a fresh light bulb, intending to
...fix his EZBake Oven, which had been on the fritz lately after...
trying to turn lead into gold while using it...
as a seaweed powered fusion reactor. Lack of seaweed liquor had stalled the master plan and the intransigence of Albert the ferret master.
Albert sat on his favourite ferret cage, buffing his nails in frustration, when in came...
Maurice. 'Oi sweety, got any special in at the moment' Albert enquired 'my bladder could do with a good wracking.' Albert doubled up at his own joke.....
but the wind changed, and he found himself stuck in this contorted position. 'How very
uncomfortable." He was delighted when Draft blew in a few minutes later and wafted him back to normality.
"I suppose you're here to persuade me to restart the liquor processing. Well.." Albert's sneer was cut short as Maurice grabbed his scraggy throat and hoisted him out of his pink, fluffy mules.
Maurice bellowed
, a sound which was picked up on the instruments of the space ship being flown by intrepid but morally indifferent space pilot J C Cones. Cones looked over at the display and
saw the Seaweedian Activity detector approaching critical. This called forimmediate action.
Cones ordered tea and rock cakes for everyone except
himself, as he fancied a cinammon bun and some
slightly burnt toast smeared with
WD-40 for the automatic pilot.
Cones loved the smell of WD 40 in the morning, almost as much as he loved
the taste of 30 weight oil
in the air of the engine room after evasive maneuvers. Steering carefully, Cones dove and entered the atmosphere at just the right angle to
adjust his scarf in a dashing manner, but not enough to
hang himself.
The scarf however had knotted itself around
the neck of the automatic pilot, who by this time had finished his coffee and was
remembering fondly the weekend he spent in Las Vegas with Gloria Mundi. She was working as
an undercover
scuba diver. It was this job that led to her first meeting with
the ultra-rare aquatic thesaurus
and his even rarer land-cousin, Roger.
Gloria spent a lot of time in Vegas playing the
The ferrets did not like thesauruses
they did have an affection towards encyclopeadias however
and the entire collection of the 1972 Encyclopedia Brittanica, featuring the misprinted Cad-Caer volumne, including a scandalous picture of
Lassie. Maurice heard the whining sound of a rapidly approaching space craft. Quickly he
ran to the door
dived across to the telephone and dialled...
857-5309. "D**n you, Tommy Tu-Tone!" he shouted.
before remember that the prefix was 867. He chuckled ruefully and fondly thought of Digits, who was always a help in these
matters. She always knew just what to do
, or at least she gave the impression she did.
Digits , Agnes and Booger decided to have some breakfast before
the spaceship landed. Maurice made seaweed omelettes while Agnes made
a horrible mess as her fingers were still not quite right (see earlier).
but fingers are susceptible to mittenitis, brought on by Ag knitting you a pair of 6-finger gloves using wool made from
used S.O.S pads, but it is the thought that counts, at least that's
what J.C. Cones was thinking as his spacecraft landed in the ancient stone courtyard at Dreadknickers Castle.
Cones carefully began setting up the overly complicated security system that would protect the ship while it was landed and he was out, though he knew that over 75% of the security systems would never be tripped.
But it was tripped, by a gang of feral ferrets led by Tiddles P. It was revenge for
frivolously formulated feral ferret fritto misto
in new "Persimmon Breeze" scent with stain fighting powers. Tiddles P instantly wee'd on
the one item of furniture in the building that could not be shampoo'd. Cats are like that.
Realizing that the alarm had been tripped, J C Cones looked back to see his space craft being swarmed by ferrets. He shrugged and
got out his feral ferret blaster and took careful aim, which caused the ferrets to
run around in small circles, singing or, rather, shouting
at Tiddles P. Tiddles ignored them, having noticed that Agnes
removed a packet of giblets from the large droopy pocket on the front of her motheaten cardigan. He knew he was going to get a treat, bad cat or no
Seeing Tiddles eyeing up the bag of giblets Digits fought back his own revulsion, sidled up to agnes and triumphantly stole his own wallet from his coat pocket
Feeling the sidle, Agnes turned and slapped Digits, losing several more fingers. ¶J C Cones ignored the activity and continued to
fill out his application for employment with Ringling Brothers-Barnum Bailey Circus. He had a dream
of becoming a performing bear, if he could just figure out how to stay on the tricycle.
teach his pet llama, Salvador Dali Llama to
sing Motley Crue's Girls! Girls! Girls! in Yiddish.
But that was an impossible dream, so he aimed low and hoped to cure Tiddles P's incontience with
a little known concoction called
Zappit ! It was guaranteed to take the piddles out of Tiddles with only one application. Tiddles, spying the bottle, ran like
a zombie was after her. And a zombie ~was~ after her! Agnes had become fed up with the lack of action in the plot and decided to
sex things up a bit with an exciting car chase, followed by a montage of gunfights and WMD usage. Cones was impressed because
he fancied himself as Steve McQueen in every car chase scene ever made and
even he had never been able to get quite so many explosions going on quite so insubstantial a pretext. He decided to...
actually do something, rather than talk about things he could do. Reaching the tower in the courtyard of Castle Dreadknickers, he
flung open the heavy wooden doors and found a horrible stench coming from
an empty pizza box that had been sitting there for possibly a month.
Booger and Digits had ordered a pizza with extra anchovies on it, and abandoned it in Castle Dreadknickers as part of their plan
to entice
Albert Ross into making a pact with
Tiddles into range so they could test their newly invented cat incontinence underpant. Tiddles however hated anchovies, so...
they decided to attract Gloria Mundi instead. But she was in Tahiti this time of year
Albert absent mindedly threw a kipper fillet for Hank to retrieve while he continued painting his toenails a shimmery gold. It wasn't working. Bannon had Maurice over a barrel knowing about the Swiss bank account and the General suspected that Booger and
and Mothra might be in cahoots. There was however another way...
with a dead battery in her cell phone and a
song in her heart...
the song was one of those songs you can't get out of your head once it's in there, like
"Young Girl" by the Union Gap, or
or "Hot Potato" - Don't pick it up, pick it up...
or even the highly sinister "Saturday Night" by the Bay City Rollers. Gloria could hear it now: S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Night! She clutched her head and
tried to drown it out by singing, "I don't think that I can take it, cos it took so long to bake it, and I'll never have that recipe again..."
concentrated on getting things done. Right now, the most important thing was to
get out of Tahiti on the next flight.
All flights were cancelled, thanks to J.C. Cones. He sabotaged Tahitian Airways because he found out
that due to peanut allergy scares they were instead handing out packets of
seaweed, which obviously put a spanner in the works of
Maurice to corner the world airline seaweed snack packet market. Passengers were known to show a preference for
long walks on the beach and long, relaxing baths
- all notoriously hard to supply on an aeroplane. 'Are we making sense yet?' asked...
the faithful old retainer sitting in his deep, plush armchair in the library at Castle Dreadknickers. "Certainly not!" declared
Mothra Stewart, who was busily knitting a £75 wooly hat out of musty old seaweed snacks she had pilfered from the airplane.
The faithful old retainer pulled the retainer out of his mouth, as it was hard to make himself understood.
"Qwghlm gllfdd arse," he enunciated carefully, just as J.C. Cones burst into the tower room. The draft
wafted along the floorboards, wafting clumps of cat hair in the direction of Mothra, who suddenly had an idea
why don't we go...
--" Cones interrupted Mothra. "My sensors received an alarm call. I have come to rescue
everyone who needs rescuing." Without waiting for a reply he grabbed his
autographed Smith and Wesson experimental combination flame thrower and granade launcher and pointed it at Tiddles who was in the middle of a Piddle and who shrieked and hid behind
Mothra, who said calmly 'As far as I know, this leaky cat is the only thing that DOES need rescuing. But I have a hunch that we should rush up the stairs now and burst through the doors in a startling and adventurous manner.'
And so they all rushed up the stairs except for Digits, who had slipped in a puddle of piddle and fallen on his face. Bursting through the door, they
Without warning, Agnes burst through the door. Cones grabbed Tiddles and Mothra and aimed his gun at Agnes. "Get back!" he screamed
Suddenly Booger, dressed for honeydipping and smelling as bad as he looked, dashed through the door and grabbed Tiddles. Tiddles managed to free himself and make a hasty exit stage left. But before he went he grabbed
two ferrets and ate them with gusto. Digits burst into tears and threw a letter Q at Tiddles. Gloria Mundi parachuted through the window
wearing Maurice's trousers
and Agnes' motheaten cardigan. "That's *my* cardigan!" Agnes screamed, and ripping it off Gloria's head, tumbled into the driver's seat of her gangrenous Aston Martin, keeping her promise of delivering an exciting car chase.
"You fingerless excuse for a masseuse," snarled Gloria, jumping into the passenger seat and trying to grab the cardigan, "What
bloody finishing school did you flunk out of you stupid cow? Hand over that sweater!" "Never!" screamed
Agnes, who put the pedal to the metal, which caused the Aston...
to sit there because a certain dumb bitty forgot to turn on the ignition, let alone check the mirrors and
jumped out of the Aston, kicked one of the tires because it looked flat and dashed off to her Harley. Agnes started the hog, donned her Hell's Angels jacket and pealed off
. Cones and Mothra stood on the steps, watching the girls on their bikes hurtle into the distance. 'I wonder where they're going?' said...
Cones, who was a bit surprised to see the Aston Martin turn into a bike. 'I wonder if CLI has invented a
transformation-jamming lock, to stop that happening again.' Mothra pondered this and then
punched Cones in the head. "I'm going after them!" she shouted, and screeching her peculiar metallic cry, jumped into the Aston Martin and (remembering to check her mirrors first) starts the car and jams on the accelerator. "And that's *my* cardigan!"
Up ahead, on one of the motorbikes, Agnes was having trouble with the brakes on account of her continuing lack of fingers. As the road began to twist down the side of Dreadknicker Mountain,
...she heard the sound of Mothra Stewart's car rapidly approaching, and the sound of J. C. Cones' secret laser blaster firing after it. "No one punches me for free, Mothra Stewart!" J. C. shouted, his voice echoing all the way down the mountain. "NOOO O
OOONNNNEEEE!!!!"
The car began to choke and splutter. Mothra had forgotten to check the fuel gauge. "Empty! Damn that Tiddles," she screamed. "He was supposed to fill my tank!"
J. C. Cones ran back to his space craft, deciding to rescue Agnes but not Mothra. "She can dang well walk," he muttered as he entered the hold, unaware that
Digits, in a rare display of skill, had stolen his keys
and replaced them with Tiddles' catnip mousie. Tiddles was enraged when he saw Cones holding Mr. Mouse and attacked his
hands with a ferocity hitherto not hinted at. In reaction, he poked
Tiddles in the eye with his thumb and threw the catnip mouse into the bushes where it
control panel, inadvertently starting the
spacecraft's cappuchino machine. Quickly J.C. Cones was enveloped by foamy brown bubbles. Meanwhile, Mothra realized that Tiddles had filled the gas tank of the Aston with widdle, and had given up in disgust. Spreading her gigantic moth wings, she
flew after Agnes and Gloria. She did not notice that Tiddles, with a very self-satisfied smile, was still clinging to her boot.
Suddenly Mothra realised her foot was cold. "Where's my boot gone?" she wondered. Tiddles waved the boot in the air and
Landed on four paws down, like all cats can. Mothra watched enraged as Tiddles decided to
sell the boot on eBay. Then she flapped onward, until she was directly over
a large vat of potted shrimps, diving
for pennies. Gloria wondered why the shrimp were diving for pennies as she overtook the bikers. "Oy!" she shouted, "That's MY cardigan!"
a large vat of potted shrimps, diving
for pennies. Gloria wondered why the shrimp were diving for pennies as she overtook the bikers. "Oy!" she shouted, "That's MY cardigan!"
a large vat of potted shrimps, diving
for pennies. Gloria wondered why the shrimp were diving for pennies as she overtook the bikers. "Oy!" she shouted, "That's MY cardigan!"
Now whay do I get the feeling I've just seen that pot of shrips twice she thought.
Someone up at Castle Dreadknickers must be meddling with lightning again. It plays merry hell (hah! I said hell!) with continuity". The cardigan in question was showing signs of...
But the cardigan will remain a mystery for now, because Booger Bulger landed in the middle of the scene, flamethrower in hand. He shouted
as the Draft blew the flames back over his hand, and dropped
to his knees, weeping like a little girl. Ferrets jumped out of his backpack and swarmed all over
his head, festooning it with the seaweed thongs they had made earlier. Meanwhile, Mothra Stewart had caught up to Gloria and Agnes, where they were engaged in a bit of tug-of-war over the motheaten cardigan. Gloria got a good pull in and Agnes' arm came
off with a moist popping sound. 'Hah!' Gloria shouted. 'You're disarmed!' Gloria waved the cardigan and the arm in the air triumphantly.
Having earlier regained control of the instrumentation, J.C. Cones' spacecraft suddenly appeared, hovering over the group. Agnes looked up and
, grabbed her arm from Mothra, and used various fingers and bits of her arm to spell "HELF" on the ground. She didn't have enough body parts to spell help and so Mothra kicked
both motorbikes over the edge of the road. The bikes bounced and spun down the steep cliff and burst into
Flames, rather startling Theodore Bannon, who was in the habit of visiting nightclubs to try to pick up some nice young ladies and this night happened to have selected Flames for his evening's entertainment.
showers of iridescent bubbles. The girls stood watching, awe-struck. Flames, yes, they had expected. Bubbles was a new one.
Unfortunately, Flames was not in the cast of allowed characters, so Bannon waited for the space craft to land and then
called in a favor from the space ship commander to secure enough of the ready to purchase Flames so he would have extra leverage with a particular showgirl who was thjen instructed to find Agnes and
organize a date between Agnes and Digits McPherson. Cones looked out the window from the bridge of his ship and looked dubious. "Why
do birds suddenly apprear, everytime Agnes is near?"
are you looking dubious, Cones?" asked
the control panel, whilst simultaneously doing an internal test for Karen Carpenter anomalies.
"You would be dubious, too," Cones replied, "if every time you
turned on the radio in the cockpit, out came the swinging sounds of
The Vogon Light Orchestra!" Suddenly a bullet pinged against the hull. "We'd better get outside," said Cones, heading down the corridor to the hatch, "and
decorate the outside of the spaceship with tacky Christmas lights!" Mothra stopped him
before he could add seventy-two flashing Santas, though. She slashed
a giant inflatable snowman filled with helium, which took off at a rapid pace toward
the Strindberg Memorial Balloon Park. Maurice watched the snowman fly past his tower window and shook
his snowglobe, in a misguided attempt to see the future. Agnes was Maurice's usual soothsayer, and she burst into the Castle brandishing
some seaweed to dry it. He was making one of his favourite dishes, seaweed
a la king. 'Maurice!' Agnes cried. 'If you don't stop cooking right now, we'll destroy all life on this planet!'
'That's not fair,' Maurice replied. 'Just because my attempt at pumpkin bread turned into a black hole...'
Digits has sworn off carbohydrates for the rest of his life!" "That won't be long," murmured Agnes, mentally comparing her lack of digits with Digit McPherson's
lack of style. Agnes clutched a granade in her fingerless hand and pulled the pin with her teeth. One, two,
yes, two teeth cracked and fell out from the exertion. "Darn these pins! Were they welded on?" exclaimed Agnes in her frustration and
threw the grenade to the ground. The pin came off as it bounced and
Meanwhile, Tiddles, in conversaton with his/her therapist discovered that
she had a fear of litter boxes because
they're rather icky, aren't they? But the
she had a fear of litter boxes because
grenade hit the therapist in the head and exploded, making further conversation with her impossible.
Unless one was a zombie, of course. "Hallo ducks," trilled Agnes, "Got any spare fingers?" Meanwhile, Cones and Maurice had carjacked the Aston-Martin and
were trying to work out just what it was on in the passenger footwell that was causing the smell. "I can't stand this any longer, I need to get out of here now!" cried
Maurice, who executed a daring high-speed leap out of the Aston Martin, landing heavily on
his ankle which gave him a bad sprain. He hopped off toward
Ben's new home. He wanted to be early for her April meet because
the seaweed problem was set to go critical soon after. 'Must bust in early May!' he shouted as...
Maurice accelerated the Aston Martin down Dreadknicker Mountain. Meanwhile, back at
the castle, Mr. Conversationalist F. Unclothed, software salesperson, was knocking at
a small door that suddenly appeared in the floor. The door opened revealing...
Tiddles P, catnip mousie in claw. Tiddles sprang on Mr. Conversationalist P. Unclothed, and dragged him through the trapdoor to
the curtain in front of Door #3, which led to
a dusty museum filled with Astin Martins that had been driven by fingerless.
Tiddles Ran from Mr Unclothed. "Drat that cat!" said
Agnes as the retreating feline left a little puddle at her feet
that soon became a rather large puddle. Mr Unclothed, on the other hand,
slipped on the puddle and fell over.
A yellow stain on the seat of his trousers called attention to the fact that
he was packing heat. He was there to assassinate
Hank Honk
using only a small syringe of pottassim choloride
and a ball race.
The ball race was especially deadly, and knowing this, Mr. Unclothed screamed in fright. Especially when he spotted
several balls apparently belonging to famous historical despots. Three belonged to Napoleon, four to Stalin and seven to Genghis Khan. Hitler, though, had only one.
It was a masquerade ball. Meanwhile, the Aston Martin still rushed precipitously down the road from Dreadknicker Mountain. Rounding a hairpin turn, Maurice stamped on the brake, only to find that Agnes' disembodied arm had gotten wedged under the pedal.
Agnes vowed to be more careful in future as she was running out of expendable body parts.
J C Cones vowed to ignore any future bellowing noises coming from the direction of Dreadknickers.
Unless it was Gloria Mundi doing the bellowing. Cones had a soft spot for Mundi because she taught him jiu-jitsu at
the Atelier School of Eastern Arts, run by
an elderly janitor wise in the ways of the world,
who was assisted by Chloe. But this was no time for reverie. Maurice
was a man in search of a plot. He drove up alongside the Aston Martin in an unmarked car and began to
moon the passangers. This so distracted them that theyran the car into a ditch where
hide seaweed thongs in the Aston Martin's boot (err, trunk, if you're not British).
the motorbikes were still burning. Both cars exploded and
soon after the sound of the fire brigade's sirens could be heard. Before they arrived, however,
they had a nasty fender-bender with a Hispano-Suiza. Gloria was at the wheel
but was talking on her cell phone and polishing her nails at the same time, so it wasn't surprising that
the nail polish bottle became wedged in Maurice's buttocks, who was still wedged into the window of his vehicle.
As the vehicle was burning, and as nail polish is flammable, it was inevitable that
he was shortly going on a one-manned space flight to Mars. He struggled
and struggled to try to release the nailvarnish bottle from between his buttocks and, thanks to the propellant effects of a huge bout of flatulence, it eventually ......
dislodged with such force that it struck
Digits McPherson in the groin. As Digits crumpled with Pain, a flock of ferrets
rushed up to him, Christmas decorations in claw. They trimmed his tree, so to speak, with
the utmost care. Digits was startled to notice
that every time he moved something either tinkled or twinkled. "Oh dear", he sighed, "This is going to.............
require the services of
seriously interfere with my plans to seduce, well, anyone...
except for Agnes, who's a bit of a roundheels." Digits rattled his tinsel and lurched
purposefully towards the attic room where he kept his...
old sets of Lilttle Black Books. He was looking for one in particular, the one which
contained the names and phone numbers of everyone who'd ever......
had ever spend Christmas at the Elvis is Alive Museum in Wright City
The books were nowhere to be found, but as he opened up a musty brassbound chest he discovered
old film reels, revealing an alternate ending to Citizen Kane!
He always thought Kane was overrated, so he set fire to the film. Booger burst in the room and
sprayed the room with foam, using a special
triumphantly said, "so you think that was the only copy with that ending?" Now, I know that
we need to end this story soon, but I insist that you reveal the alternate ending to Citizen Kane!" And, pulling out a pearl-handled
revolvefr, a diamond point phonograph needle and a set of new blades for a sled that was actually named
Toto, Maurice jumped in a time machine and went back to the year 1939
. He joined a radical militant glee club and never returned to the present.
Meanwhile, Gloria Mundi had taken every body part from the story and reattached them to Agnes. She was thrilled to get her fingers back, but hadn't planned on the new location. Mothra Stewart, taking advantage of the distraction, finished eating the mot
motheaten cardigan.
For a long time after the incident, J C Cones suffered from a ferret infestation in the hold of his spacecraft.
The ferrets *were* fixing Cones' transmission and
quite forgot that space crafts don't have gears. Digits found himself
However, his roaring business in airplane seaweed snacks shaped like minature thongs more than made up for the inconvenience.
Booger decided to corner the market on these new seaweed snacks, so he kidnapped
Maurice and Mothra, threatening to kill them both unless the formula was truned over to him along with
several tonnes of
ferret droppings.
Maurice and Mothra, having no wish to be near a tonne of ferret droppings, snuck out the back door when Booger Bulger wasn't looking. Little Bunny Fru-Fru, hopping through the forest, saw the open door and decided it was time for some ferret-bopping.
The ferrets were nonplussed and returned to Castle Dreadknickers, with seaweed snacks
loaded in their handy-dandy catapults. The Castle loomed
darkly on the horizon. Then a death ray from the spaceship caused the castle to explode. The seaweed vaporized and the ferrets were turned into hurtling masses of DNA.
Strangely enough, the DNA they were turned into came from a rare breed of Madagascarian Hamster, and not ferrets as one would have thought. Such was the power of the explosion.
It was heard all the way in Tahiti, where Gloria Mundi was preparing to fly home to
her beloved orangutan. Unfortunately, before she could board the plane, the airport was vaporized by Mothra Stewart, whose Mega Ray was acting up.
But Agnes, taking vengence, threw a giant mothball and exterminated Mothra.
Hank Honk, who had stowed away in the unmarked car,
Booger heard Mothra's dying screams and ran
Hank Honk, who had stowed away in the unmarked car and Booger heard Mothra's dying screams and ran to reclaim Mothra's death ray which misfired vaporizing Booger and giving Hank Honk a nasty
case of the heebie-jeebies. Hank wondered what heebie-jeebies actually looked like, so he carefully opened the case to find
his anti-matter duplicate. They touched wingtips, and Hank Honk and Knoh Knah imploded in a flash of light.
Agnes sat on a park bench, feeling lonely, but still alive.
Then she realized she was a zombie.
How on earth did I get to Hati? Agnes asked. And where are
the ferrets? The ferrets were the last to
to arrive at the McDonalds whose golden arches glinted at the base of Dreadknicker Mountain. As they scampered in,
the smell of fresh french fries filled the air, attracting our heroine
who ordered a Big Mac while trying to re-arrange her various body parts so that they were all in their correct places. The ferrets, however,
had other ideas and surreptitiously swapped her big toes and thumbs before maliciously over seasoning her fries.
Cayenne pepper was in the seasoning, and Agnes
fed the fiery fries to the ferrets. In inly a few minutes,
the ferrets started to cough and wheeze from the getting a mess all over...
Cones' spaceship. The ferret-coated cayenne provided fuel
, enough for Cones to escape the plot. Shovelling furiously, he
began to sink lower and lower. Next time, he'd remember to shovel with a bit more care.
He tried to remember what his mum always said you should do if you find yourself in a hole, but it wouldn't come to mind, so he kept digging. Eventually he
got blisters.
Agnes helpfully gave Cones some soothing bag balm, and he promptly picked up his gun
and shot every single one of the ferrets between the eyes. "I'm tired of your ferreting around, you little rodents!" Meanwhile, Agnes the Zombie was suffering from salt poisoning from the fries
and she bloated like nobody's business, except for her physician, Z. No woman is happy with the bloat going on, so she shot
Hank Honk just for spite, since she was herself already dead. Meanwhile, down at the McDonalds, in the kitchen,
trouble was brewing, along with double toil. Out of the chip fryer came
a chip holding a flamethrower and screaming
"Your seaweed or your life!"
The ferrets, genuinely terrified, whipped off their sea-weed things and threw them at the chip, knocking it over. The flame-thrower went off with a whoomp and carbonised both the seaweed thongs and the golden arches.
The chip survived, donned a ninja outfit and went in search of
a Ouija board in hopes of contacting
anyone in the cast that hadn't already been slain or started out dead. Heading back up the road to Dreadknicker Castle,
he was scooped up in the beak of a raven that had a taste for kung food.
The flame thrower fell onto the roof of the castle and
incinerated the curtains hanging in the window. Ben was pissed, because they were velvet-lined and
went up in flames. However, the flames were a lovely orange color.
The flames matched Ben's
knickers, unbeknownst to
the rogue chip, who felt sorry for torching Castle Dreadknickers and bringing an end to
the story.
THE END
