--- Allan Revich <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: >
(Please add to the story wherever you see fit, add
> your name at the
> front and post it.)
>
> "Man Bites Dog" 42-page book made of fur, teeth,
> skin and bones
>
> Kathy Forer, Roger Stevens, Michael Leigh, Alan
> fffo, badgergirl, Carol
> Starr, Suse
>
> The Story So Far
>
> Fourteen wolverines and one lap dog chase a badger.
> But the badger is
> too fast and burrows beneath a paintbrush stuck in a
> stone. In the
> burrow are mushrooms and grain. The badger makes a
> broth ambrosia of the
> green grain and mushrooms and is soon asleep.
>
>
> The badger is dreaming that it was just a dream,
> there are no wolverines
> or lap dog because the badger was really awakened by
> the artist removing
> the paintbrush from the stone to begin painting for
> the morning. Little
> does the artist realize that the badger is in the
> burrow. Once the
> badger (a strange name for a badger some would say)
> is reassured as to
> its safety and breakfast is under way in the burrow;
> ambrosia of green
> grain and mushrooms with the added delight of mini
> marshmallows!
>
> The day is going well, but what was that
> strange sound? Thunder and a police siren mix with
> snoring. The badger
> jumps from his spot thinking the stone has imploded.
> When he hears the
> rain on the stone above, he realizes the electricity
> is still working,
> washes his face and soon falls back deep asleep.
>
> Hours later, Once, the badger, is awakened by the
> noise of wood against
> stone. It is night and the lap dog is yapping. The
> wolverines have
> surrounded the stone and are chanting an
> incantation. The badger doesn't
> breathe, not a whisker moves. Neither up nor down,
> although suspense is
> acrostic. After a paws of several minutes the badger
> quickly whips out
> his cross-stitched magic asbestos underpants and
> pulls them on
> ferociously. Once flings open the serving hatch and
> grabs the vial of
> sacred weasel water and makes a dot for the burrow
> entrance and
> confronts the seething mass of writhing wolverines
> squirming around the
> stone which is now glowing with a strange
> phosphorescent throb!
>
> 1
>
> It was a dense night. Stumble patterns and brave
> yapping set apart the
> party of owl elves and gnome mimics as they writhe
> and chase and spurn
> the undergrowth around the latest beige badger
> silting. In the brave
> distance behoves the strange and incandescent
> foreshadows of wolverines
> and greenish melon lights upon the substantial
> forest fare.
>
> Young Zonograph, the tallest owl elf snuffed his
> warps harp and muttered
> - I can hear a badger. The badger is in trouble. I
> scents wolverines.
> Hurry there is no stone unready ton roll upturned in
> this lackadaisical
> pre-momentary of the word fandango.
>
> Meanwhile, or to be more precisereiouseless, high on
> hill stood a lonely
> man with a goathead, his fixedinterestrate stare
> directeddyboyhoodlesservilely at the burning black
> belching smokestacks
> of the town beyong the wolverine woods. The sound of
> a suddenly
> snuffeforadicalcified warps harp, brought memories
> back for Ludwig Hat,
> erstwhile butler and badger
> baiterribleedinglendervish of Vincent and
> Cara Van Hire.
>
> Ludwig stood immobile, imshelle and intexacoe, for
> Ludwig had been
> brained by falling groceries, dropped from almost a
> mile overhead and
> one mile and eight inches over shoulder, a result of
> the splitting of a
> cheap carrier pigeon on it's way home. Forcing his
> gaze downward Ludwig
> was horrified, not only had his part of the story
> not managed to settle
> on a definite form, not only did it lack content but
> now to his disgust
> he found that he had been
> rendereducededicateddyboyfriended by a
> tangerine!!! He couldn't even get that right.
>
> Ludwig crossed his eyes and dotted his teeth,
> relaxed and floated up,
> through the roof of his own mouth. Long and
> complicated wordadditions,
> he thought, canwearyoudownifyournot careful, and so
> he resolved to be
> more carefulinfuture.
>
> Win Cent the Magnificent and Cara, however, were
> seriously considering
> calling Sister Meg and entering into the fray.
> Sister Meg O'Lomania was
> after all acrostic champion frigidaire and good at
> getting badgers up
> and down and out of trees (and wolverines out of
> toasters for that
> matter.) Lap dogs she had no time for as their
> batteries always seemed
> to run out in the middle of a sent bottle of
> enormous palcritude.
>
> His eyes dilated and shuffled in the moonlight, his
> breathe came in
> short pants, his coughs in a skirt and his trousers
> rolled up like
> Venetian blinds caught in a mighty wurlitzer.
>
> Mrs. Shufflefang caught sight of herself in a nearby
> polished knob of a
> Milkman's portable pelmet crusher and she winced
> inwardly, tossing back
> a mane of flaxen hair that was tied in a bun and
> covered in currants.
> The badgers, for now there were five, all grabbed
> the reins of the
> milkman's horse and whipped it into a gallop and
> then into a small tea
> shop where it scattered several old ladies and a
> troupe of dwarves on an
> outing.
>
> Suddenly, Pequot Marmaduck threw a crumpet at Sister
> Meg. It caught her
> with a ping in the frigidaire and she fainted
> straight away, smashing
> the paw of the lap dog who was dreaming of heaven
> sent chumlaka. Cara
> sprinkled Sister Meg and the lap dog each with half
> a gram of lemon
> juice. Meg cried out "get me a toasted pineapple!"
> and the dog sniffed
> the crumpet.
>
> Ludwig had fallen onto the milk cart and the badgers
> were busy cleaning
> the splashes from each other when seven wolverines
> slunk by and whistled
> an old tune from the dark days when weasels were
> weasels and fourpence
> was worth three and a half cents. The badgers had
> been mistaken for
> minks! Finally, they could answer Young Zonograph's
> call and they set
> out toward the southern phosphorescence, towing Mrs.
> Shufflegang who had
> the fixedinterestrate card for gas and carrots for
> the hybrid horse and
> roasted beast for themselves.
>
> 2
>
> "What's all this, then!" Uncle Walt awoke with a
> tart. "Once?" he
> yelled. "Where is that pesky badger?" Carefully
> smearing the remains of
> his last bottle of bright orange nail varnish into
> his hair, he feebly
> crawled out of the hole. Lulu, meanwhile,
> disappeared into a cravat.
>
> "There's wild weasels in there, I tells ya. I don't
> want to go to the
> steak house no more!" Several of the badgers
> loitering around the
> enormous bonfire giggled loudly. Once kept his head
> down. Uncle Walt in
> this mood... best keep out of his way. A wolverine,
> hiding in a nearby
> double-decker laundry basket chuckled quietly to
> himself. He had a
> variety of chuckles but preferred the quietly one.
> Wait till I tell the
> others, he thought to himself.
>
> 3
>
> Later that same day, 3,000 red-headed women
> converged on the small
> appliance department at St Macy's, home to the
> partridge of man's desire
> and woman's loathing. There was a sale, you see.
> Yousee left the
> apartment in a shambles. Tucking it under her
> badger, she moved the
> entire affair slightly to the south of Turkey.
> "What's all this then?!" shouted Blarney the turkey
> buzzard. "This
> doesn't look like a chestnut to me, it looks more
> like a shrunken head
> from the Ooompungokoonoo Indians of Skull Island!"
>
> "It's the one I've been looking for " screamed the
> turkey buzzard as if
> pole-axed, "For nearly 300 years our family have
> searched the seven seas
> and thirteen ponds of Umpklah to find the sacred
> shrunken head of
> Saatchi the Flame God - I can't belive you had it
> under your badger all
> this time!"
>
> "Neither did I" said Blarney with a withering smile.
> He had other smiles
> but the withering one was his favourite.
>
> As they sat contemplating this new find a strange
> and
> eerie noise assailed their ears, Blarney decided to
> look within his
> badger for Turkey basting apparatus. Meanwhile,
> unbeknownst to Blarney,
> the Ooompungokoonoo Indians of Skull Island were
> busy making plans of
> their own. Lulu crawled out of the cravat and
> prepared breakfast for
> Uncle Walt. All of this activity occuring elsewhere
> soon caused poor
> Blarney to tire. He decided to take a nap...
>
> 4
>
> "What's all this, then!" Uncle Walt awoke with a
> tart. "Once?" he
> yelled. "Where is that pesky badger?" Carefully
> smearing the remains of
> his last bottle of bright orange nail varnish into
> his hair, he feebly
> crawled out of the hole. Lulu, the tart, looked at
> him disparagingly.
> She had other looks but disparaging was her
> favourite. "You've been
> re-living the past again, as though it was happening
> all over again,"
> she said.
>
> "Damn," Uncle Walt drawled. Where's that badger,
> Once?"
> "I'm here," Once answered through the
> TemporalTimeGate (tm)
> "If I've told you once, Once," Walt said, "I've told
> you..." There was
> an almighty noise, a screech, a smidgeon, a
> thumpyclumpybumpy
> existential, serious and yet soft-stockinet kind of
> stony
> paintbrush-beset-by-wolverines kind of noise. Uncle
> Walt pulled his
> cravat tighter and pulled his i-TimeDisplacer (tm)
> from the folds of his
> thigh-fur. He punched in Zonograph, the owl-elf's
> number.
>
> 5
>
> Ludwig, the erstwhile butler and badger
> baiterribleedinglendervish of
> Vincent and Cara Van Hire, and still wearing his
> magic asbestos
> underpants, awoke with three tarts and asked
> himself:
>
> "What is the nature of the information that I am
> gaining?
> Is my contruction of history becoming detrimental?"
>
> Whereupon he spontenantaliasly
> blurterupterucusurburped the following
> ditty:
>
> "Let Badger be and Wolverine
> Escape to one of many oceans
> In waterwheels of aquamarine
> Let them play in scattered notions
> Let them see and let them pray
> And drink in corresponding potions
> While moon and stars circulate"
>
> "Tea and crumpets anyone," Once said.
>
> 6
>
> Uncle Walt drawled, "There's wild weasels in there,
> I tells ya. I don't
> want to go to the
> steak house no more!" For nearly 300 years our
> family have searched the
> seven seas
> and the tallest owl elf snuffed his warps harp. The
> badgers, for now there
> were five, all grabbed the reins of the
> milkman's horse.
>
> Blarney decided to look within his badger for Turkey
> basting apparatus. She
> had other looks but disparaging was her favourite.
> There was a sale, you
> see. Tucking it under her badger, she moved the
> entire affair slightly to
> the south. Ludwig had fallen onto the milk cart.
> This was not the first time
> that Ludwig had done this. Uncle walt suspected that
> it would also not be
> the last time. Blarney, oblivious to these goings
> on, looked ever deeper
> within his badger.
> Meanwhile,back at the farm Sir Monte Garghoul was
bathing his pet kebab ,Stanley, in the butler's sink
and whistling an old Hungarian folk ditty through his
cracked and yellow stained teeth. Taking the loofer in
his gnarled old aristocratic hands he splashed suds
over the draining board and half the kitchen shouting
" Avast me hearties! Away the scussocks! ahahahhh!"
whilst the scullery maid Gladys cowered beneath the
pile of broken plates and old rhubarb stalks under the
butlers Vespa that was half dismantled on the roughly
hewn kitchen table.
>
____________________________________________________________
Yahoo! Messenger - Communicate instantly..."Ping"
your friends today! Download Messenger Now
http://uk.messenger.yahoo.com/download/index.html
