gasping for air, piggy lay facedown on the sandy shore of brokenwind island, beside him lay the remnants of his steve urkelesque spectacles. He tried awkwardly to replace them on his chubby face but bent and broken they resembled the ones he wore in his 6th grade yearbook photo. His recent portliness being a product of the sedentary lifestyle he has been living as an “observer” on the once thought-to-be unsinkable u.s.s. cinatiT. Piggy rolls over onto his blubbery haunches to survey his surroundings. A long sandy beach stretches as far as the eye can see, which is littered with a number of the ships’ survivors. He is distracted by something washing up to his feet “ooooo a bacon buttered cheeseburger bagel with extra bbq baconbits.” the other survivors can wait he thinks and produces a mayonnaise packet from his pocket that he has begun carrying at all times. with the dexterity of a malnourished wolverine he shovels the burger in his slobbering mouth while simultaneously squirting the mayo down his gullet; a glob of squeezey cheese lands on his t-shirt that reads ‘mayo; proof god loves us.’ “Aaahhhhh much better” he groans and struggles to stand but after a number of attempts, resigns to roll down the beach instead.
The first shipmate he comes upon is neB, the crews favorite dwarf and resident NASCAR / MMA aficionado, who hails from BugZap, Mississippi. “’ay da, ‘em glada see jou boi dang” piggy’s slow, saltwater soaked mind takes a moment to comprehend this but then remembers that lil’ neB only speaks southern Mississippian. “I’m glad to see you too neB. What happened to the boat, it just happened so fast” “dang blast ‘t wod hapin boat dun brok dang cuz” piggy had arrived on the boat weeks earlier in fairly good health, but over the last few weeks, before his body mass index swallowed the chart, he had noticed that the boat had begun to sit lower and lower in the water. The crew blamed it on global warming (more water=lower boat height) but a thought squeezed its way through piggys gelatinous brain “arrgh me thunk it be me eat many fud” hey hey wait brain, that kind of thinking gets you no where piggy thought dismissively. He then picked up neB and put him on his back saying “just dig your lil’ beanie weenie fingers into my ample neck fat and hold on, lets find the others.” “gud thanken’ boss u be rel smrt, me like u” replied neB.
Further down the beach they came to the one they call vlad pooting, the russian. big as an ox and dumb as a waffle iron, vlad is the embodiment of rocky IV’s arch nemesis ivan drago, complete with flat-top fade and broken cliché villain talk “me brrrreak you like bowl kittens and jello.” He also had a strange obsession with digital clocks, which was important to feign interest in, if you didn’t want to be “crrrrrrusted like baby sea squid.” “oh tell me about that one ivan….err I mean mr. pooting (snicker, snicker)?” “yessss favorite of me. biiig numbers, shiny colorrrr, grrrrreat snooze button.” “wow, and that one in the corner?” “amirican shit, me crrrush like coconut cupcake” he spat and involuntarily slammed his fist through the 3” thick porthole window. He was a great ally to have on the island if we are to survive. The three of them headed on down the beach.
Off in the distance came a sound that they all knew too well; the sound of flatulence and immediately realized evaD the lovable, mindless imbecile from Mudflap in northern Louisiana had survived. evaD was always heard before seen by making fart noises with his mouth, whether answering questions or expressing emotion, fart noises was his chosen method of communication*. Cheerfully, evaD appeared from under a bush whimpering with sea urchin spines sticking out from around his mouth like a pincushion. “splat poot fart“ “evaD, are you ok?” piggy asked, bending down to help him up. Without warning neB leapt from piggys back and began gnawing out evaD’s kneecap. “POoooot” he sputtered in pain. Piggy reached down and plucked neB from evaD’s knee and instantly remembered the age-old bad blood between northern Louisianans and southern Mississippians; once so close in language and culture but separated now by their diametrically opposed views on chevy and ford trucks. “flibbity, flabbity, gibberty let me at ‘em, dang” cried neB. “splattt, pooot, droppp” retorted evaD as Vlad restrained him with an extended arm against evaD’s forehead like an older brother, while evaD flailed and kicked. Speaking both their languages Piggy told evaD “no, I promise neBs had all his shots and no you cant get diabetes from a dwarf bite.” After a timeout and the threat of being put on restriction from tv during the Talladega race both parties calmed with the occasional snort and/or toot.
*truthfully I wish this were a joke, I cant make this stuff up
“we must keep moving to try to save the others” piggy urged. the motley crue pressed on under the oppressive heat of brokenwind island. The party walked along the beach until they reached the windward edge of the island and the coastline became a series of jagged rocks and cliffs. A distinct gurgling sound came emanating from an inaccessible sea cave below, piggy had heard that sound before and it brought back traumatic memories. Once on a midnight snack run to the ship’s pantry he had stumbled upon dribbles, the cook, snuggled in a sams club sized bag of Cheetos with his pants at his ankles, rubbing icing on his distended santa belly. He knew, albeit painful, he must save this poor creature. thinking quickly he remembered that he had stowed away some last reserves of easter peeps and butter buddies and began working macguyver-like on a plan. Sewing the peeps together with fruit roll-ups, he built a mattress and rubbed the butter along the bottom to help it glide over the dangerous rocky cliff. Though it pained him greatly to use his last snack supplies he knew dribbles needed them. Cautiously he approached the precipice and was instantly rocketed down the slope atop the Peeper-Pad™, which broke his fall with a thud. Peering into the darkness he noticed two dull, droopy, slightly stupid orbs peering out sheepishly. As he approached the quivering figure, he recognized dribbles’ distinctive belly, deeply crossed eyes, and greasy bubbles at the corners of his mouth. Dribbles cowered shivering in the back of the cave clutching a KFC slop bowl® with a glob of mashed potatoes, corn and gravy dripping down his chin and muttering soft coos of semi-conscious happiness and fear. “easy little fella, im not gonna hurt ya” piggy said calmly. “hes gonna come >slurp< back” gurgled dribbles. “Whos coming back?” piggy replied “king rolyaT, the terrible one. He will >burp< kill us all, I cant leave >plop< the cave or he’ll get me and all my delicious Hamburger Howie Hot pockets, Baby Buster Bacon Balls, Dixie Darling Doughnut Drops and Krispy Krusty Krackly Kracker Kakes” “its ok, we’re here to save you. Lets get out of here we’ll protect you. we have a russian for gods sake.” try as he might piggy couldn’t get baby huey to his feet and settled on boarding him like a life raft and floating to the beach, which was actually quite comfortable. Back on land, dribbles was shifty like a cornered badger, constantly scanning the beach with his googly eyes like those found on elementary school sock puppets.
Night fell on their little camp and dribbles was no less antsy, “hes coming, hes coming.” they were startled from their slumber by an eerie fog that crept in on little cats feet, and bolted upright to see the profile of a massive figure standing on the bluff above them outlined by a full silver moon and further shaken by a diabolical cackle. “shriek” they shrieked. “ahhhh who you be dang?” neB cried “who am I? who am I you ask” replied the shadow “yeah that’s what he said already” piggy shot back feigning courage and a little bravado. “tis I, king >dun dun dun< >thunderclap< rolyaT, and you are my loyal subjects” squeaked the voice. “come out of the shadows please its really hard to see you, your majesty.” Slowly the figure stepped forward; getting smaller and smaller and smaller until at last they could make out a pintsized man. This miniature napoleon stood with hand tucked into his jordache buttondown tshirt, pressed black Gitano military BDU slacks, tiny neon Velcro zips and a mickey mouse pocket watch; the perfect catalog model for the JCpenny kids dept. Though his reign had only lasted 3 hours he governed with an iron, albeit tiny and adorable, fist. his diminutive stature was a result of a regimented diet of celery, protein shakes, and bagel bites, but that didn’t retard is outsized authoritarian rule. He and his first lady had pledged to fight a war on junk food in their kingdom and would stand for no one to defy their will. “I demand you dispossess yourself of any and all refined sugary snacks including but not limited to: tiny tims’ texas toasted taco tater toppers, sam smothers’ slippery slidey slime sliders, charlie chaplan’s crud covered cocoa candycorns, and of course absolutely NO dilbert dawkins diary dipped dragon-drawn goofballs or else.” “ha You and vhich arrrmy?” snorted Vlad pooting. From behind king rolyaT, stepped 6 massive Kappa Sigma Alpha Delta force meatheads each holding a bottle of kiwi mango strawberry Muscle Milk. “youll never take our freeeeeeeedom, let ‘em have it boys.” yelled piggy as the motley crue began throwing snack cakes at the kappas, striking the king in the forehead “WATCH OUT, incoming empty calories!!!! Full retreat, meatheads.”
Oh how the motley crue cheered and danced the night away around the campfire to celebrate their victory (well not really danced on account that they began huffing and puffing after a couple of shuffly steps). “they’ll be >squirt< back” dribbles croaked.
First, Vlad was walking through the forest looking for things to break when he saw something sleek and shiny purple hanging from a tree. on closer inspection he discovered the most beautiful knockoff adidas track suit a Russian had ever seen and as he stepped forward he fell into a giant pit of fat free, organic, extra firm tofu, never to be seen again.
Next neB was heading down to the shoreline to flip sea turtles on their backs, when he was distracted by a suspicious envelope that lay in the sand. He cautiously opened it to reveal a pair of upper level tickets to the lynard skynard and white snake reunion concert at the caldwell county fairgrounds. “flipping heck blast it dang” and immediately died of a cardiac arrest due to overjoy.
evaD set out to poke things in the eye with a stick when he saw something so amazing he couldn’t resist gravitating to it. There in the middle of some leaves lay the most beautiful thing he ever done seen: a shiny metal toaster and a pile of pretty pebbles. From above fell a well-balanced diet of fruits and vegetables that immediately crushed evaD with a wide grin across his face.
Dribbles was nibbling his way through a king sized marvin “the middle-aged meanie” milboogers’ musty malty meatball milkshake bar, when he choked on a cucumber slice that had strangely found its way into his candybar. Unbeknownst to him he was allergic to vegetables and died of anaphylactic shock.
Alone and afraid, piggy heard a chant growing louder and soon made it out to be “kill the pig, get his sugar, let them eat carrots.” Cutting left and right, piggy ran frantically into the forest away from the ever closer cries of the kappa sigma delta beta gamma meatheads, “kill the pig, down with high fructose corn syrup, balanced diet, plenty of exercise, and healthy lifestyle choices.” Quickly approaching from the left he sees krang, the vice president and number one mean guy, who throws a sharpen celery that nicks piggys tubby knees and spills grape jelly. Injured and frightened, piggy struggles jumping over roots, ducking under branches, and running for his life.
“He stumbled over a root and the cry that pursued him rose even higher. Then he was down, rolling over and over in the warm sand, crouching with arm to ward off, trying to cry for mercy. He staggered to his feet, tensed for more terrors and looked up at a huge peaked cap. He saw white drill, epaulettes, a revolver, a row of glit buttons down the front of a uniform. A naval officer stood on the sand, looking down at ralph… err I mean piggy, in wary astonishment.”
“Fun and games?” the officer asked. Piggy shook his floppy head. “Who’s the boss?” asked the officer. Piggy looked up “tony danza…. Just kidding I am.”
No comments:
Post a Comment