Tagged: bonus points

Anyone Who Came Upon Me

  • by Kentif the raccoons *did* escape
  • no record of it in the archives
  • life without mayonnaise
  • and everything was frozen!
  • as edgy as a beachball

Tune in next time part 878      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Anyone who came upon me and Small Dennis in the midst of our tussle would have thought they were seeing a dozen raccoons trying to fight their way out of the slipcover for a tacky loveseat. That’s not just idle speculation on my part, but based on how eyewitnesses reacted to an incident at a county fair in Dubuque in the seventies, which one of my classmates recreated with actual raccoons for the Academy’s science fair. She got an A, but if the raccoons *did* escape there’s no record of it in the archives.

“Is it worth all this mayhem?” I asked while being pummeled by Small Dennis’s small fists. “Just to carry on an affair?”

“What? No!” Small Dennis cried. “This is a real mission, and if it fails you’ll need to get used to life without mayonnaise, like back before civilization when you’d get chased by sabertooths and everything was frozen!”

“Are you sure it’s not saberteeth?”

“Just stop interfering.” He dropped his voice to a growl. “Let me finish the job.”

I knew he was trying to sound all dramatic, but Small Dennis is about as edgy as a beachball so I couldn’t take him seriously.

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I Assure You

  • by jenentirely appropriate for you to laugh
  • screamer extraordinaire
  • The weird part is what I *do* with the pizzas.
  • did more than have dinner together. Duh.
  • rub his mouth on my head

Tune in next time part 877      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I assure you, dear reader, that it is entirely appropriate for you to laugh when you picture me attempting to cut my way out of a two-man horse costume using a battery-powered nose hair trimmer. Go ahead and laugh even harder when I tell you my attempt failed. You see, Small Dennis was a screamer extraordinaire, and as soon as he saw what I was up to, he let loose an ear-splitting yelp. While the corduroy costume we shared, and the bathroom walls, would dampen his cries somewhat, I couldn’t take the chance of him drawing Titania to our position. I turned off the trimmer.

“Dude!” I whisper-yelled. “Doesn’t it feel like we’ve been trapped in this horse costume together for months?”

“Yes,” he hissed back. “I could swear we’ve been sweatin’ it up in this thing since, like, November. But that doesn’t matter! The mission matters!”

I sighed. It had been a long time since I’d worked with anyone so dedicated to his cause. “Tell me about this mission of yours.” I hoped he’d be so distracted in the telling that he wouldn’t notice me trying to unstick the zipper. I cautiously slipped my hand out through the hole under the tail.

“I can’t tell you the details, but it involves the pizzeria code. I have to send a message. The weird part is what I *do* with the pizzas. You know, after the message has been sent.”

The pizzeria code was popular among philandering spouses. They wanted their pizza parties to look innocent to outside eyes, but of course the cheaters did more than have dinner together. Duh. My own father had developed the code years before I was born, and he was one of the few to use it outside of extramarital shenanigans (he used it for those, too, of course). Was Small Dennis in league with my evil father? Or just having an affair?

I managed to get the zipper unjammed, and inched it slowly along. I was trying to keep Small Dennis from noticing, but I failed. He tried to whirl around indignantly, but since we were confined together inside a constricting cloth prison, he did something much more like rub his mouth on my head.

He then pounced on me and we fell to the floor in a tangle of sweaty brown corduroy.

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Small Dennis Slapped My Hand Away From the Zipper

  • by Kentcut off into shorts
  • clothing choice that I would be comfortable with
  • very soggy newspapers
  • a matching, facing toilet for when you can’t get off the john but have to lean over one at the same time
  • Three words… Nose Hair Trimmer.

Tune in next time part 876      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Small Dennis slapped my hand away from the zipper. “You’re jeopardizing the missions!” he hissed.

I ground my molars. The horse costume might have been tolerable if it had been cut off into shorts, but that still wouldn’t be a clothing choice that I would be comfortable with under the circumstances.

The best I could do was keep backpedaling and drag Small Dennis along with me. He put up a bit of a fight about that, but his resistance was comparable to a curtain of very soggy newspapers. I managed to bump open a door with my hip, and dragged us through it into what turned out to be a bathroom. But its setup was unconventional to say the least. There were two toilets and no partitions, meaning (possibly) that your conversational partner would have someplace to sit, or (more likely) you’d have available a matching, facing toilet for when you can’t get off the john but have to lean over one at the same time.

I hurried to explore the rest of the space before Small Dennis felt inspired.

On a shelf under the mirror, at last I spotted something truly useful in my current predicament. Three words… Nose Hair Trimmer.

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I Needed Two Things

  • by jennot *that* devoted to the future of air travel
  • and wiggling it, just a little?
  • not happy gargoyles
  • multiple kinds of puppets, all operated by
  • it would be a shining white box

Tune in next time part 875      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I needed two things: fresh air, and time to think. If I could get out of this blasted horse costume I’d have both, so that became my priority. Without Big Dennis across my back, I stood a better chance of eluding Titania. I stepped backwards as fast as I could toward the corner, dragging Small Dennis along for the moment.

“She was about to say where the ninja-clowns keep their blimp plans!” Small Dennis whined.

“Well my dude, it turns out I’m not *that* devoted to the future of air travel espionage.” I tried to stand up, but the horse costume didn’t release and I was still attached to Small Dennis.

“It’s not all about you, you know.”

I was getting really frustrated at still being tethered in close proximity to Small Dennis’s sweaty naked bum. “I need to get out of here. Can you try grabbing the zipper and wiggling it, just a little?”

“No.”

“No? Don’t you want–”

“What I want doesn’t matter. I’m on a mission. Something I thought you would understand. But I guess everyone was right at the Academy. They always said your family was a bunch of gargoyles, and not happy gargoyles either!”

This was news to me. I didn’t remember ever being called a gargoyle. The closest insult I could recall was when we were compared to multiple kinds of puppets, all operated by feral chimps. Which, you may note, is nothing whatsoever like a bunch of gargoyles.

“I’m on a mission of my own, Small Dennis.” That wasn’t exactly true, but if he believed me it would get me out of this humid tube of corduroy and give me a chance to decide whether the bigger threat lay in the clown-ninjas and their hot tub parties, or in their plans to abscond with all the airship’s bananas. I didn’t know where I would go to do my thinking, but wherever it was, it would be a shining white box of clean fresh air compared to my current surroundings.

I tried to get a hand free to jiggle the zipper before Titania rounded the corner and found us.

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I Had To Stop Worrying

  • by Kenttaking a dip in the chocolate fountain
  • make the standard criss-cross pattern
  • have to walk past the planetarium
  • it’s my least favorite part
  • topped with garbage bubbles.

Tune in next time part 874      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I had to stop worrying about how close I’d come to taking a dip in the chocolate fountain and deal with Big Dennis. One well placed twerk was sufficient to send him sliding head-first onto the floor. The impact appeared to knock him out again, unless it killed him. I couldn’t get a good angle to see him, and anyway he wasn’t a cartoon, so I doubted his eyes would make the standard criss-cross pattern to signify his demise.

There was one place on this vessel where clowns like Titania and BimBam could hold a hot-tub party, but to reach it I would have to walk past the planetarium. Most Contrarian travelers enjoy visiting it during their voyage, but it’s my least favorite part of the airship. There is a long, sorrowful tale to explain my dislike of the amenity, but for now just understand that to me, it’s like a sewage sundae topped with garbage bubbles.

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My Encounter with Small Dennis’s Naked Rump

  • by jeneyes stinging
  • I don’t like this woman for a variety of reasons
  • no choir boy
  • gymnastically arranging their bodies
  • in a relatively sanitary fashion

Tune in next time part 873      Click Here for Earlier Installments

My encounter with Small Dennis’s naked rump left my eyes stinging and my ears ringing. I stepped backwards as quickly as I could and strongly considered just taking my half of the horse suit and bolting. But I couldn’t do that. It was my job to collect intelligence and figure out what Titania was up to. I don’t like this woman for a variety of reasons, but chief among them at this moment was that her presence kept me trapped inside a corduroy tube with my face mere inches from another dude’s ass. I’m no choir boy, and I don’t care about other people gymnastically arranging their bodies in whatever configurations please them (as long as it’s done in a relatively sanitary fashion), but Small Dennis was very much not my type.

On my back, Big Dennis stirred.

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I Was Now Firmly Convinced

  • by Kentstarted following me
  • propensity for licking was common knowledge
  • elaborate performance art project?
  • and not feel bad about it
  • Can we talk about the terrifying clown

Tune in next time part 872      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I was now firmly convinced that Titania knew I was inside the horse costume, and in light of what she’d just told me I wanted to simply ask aloud, “Can we talk about the terrifying clown-ninja hybrids and their hideous anatomical enhancements?” But I couldn’t risk it. Titania had spoken to me, true, but in a way that continued to indulge the ruse. She was letting me stay concealed and not feel bad about it, although I did, a little. Then again, I was basing all this on intel I’d gleaned from a greatly disadvantaged position. Maybe I was behaving like as much of a horse’s ass as I was disguised as. Maybe BimBam Tickles wasn’t even really unconscious. Could I be certain this wasn’t all an elaborate performance art project? A sadistically clownish trap? I could not.

Another idea occurred to me. Perhaps the Crystal Clown wanted to get me alone. Only Small Dennis stood between us at this point. Was he her next target? Should I try to protect him? It seemed like the right thing to do, but not the smart thing. After all, I didn’t owe either of the Dennises anything, and being all alone with Titania wouldn’t have to be mortally perilous. It could even be fun; her propensity for licking was common knowledge.

But Small Dennis, in the front half of the costume, knew only that a dangerous mastermind was inches away from his face, telling him sinister things he couldn’t understand. Belatedly, he started following me in my attempted retreat. I hadn’t expected that, so suddenly the only thought that filled the entirety of my mind was, “He’s still not wearing pants.”

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“There Were Coded Messages”

  • by jenlearning that the hard way
  • like an army of idiosyncratic ninjas
  • enjoy international fame
  • strange suction-cup-shaped marks
  • amidst the gratified shouts

Tune in next time part 871      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“There were coded messages amidst the gratified shouts from the hot tub,” Titania whispered. That wasn’t the confusing part. The confusing part was what she said next. “We all emerged with strange suction-cup-shaped marks covering our bodies, and yet there were no squids at this particular party.”

The first confusing thing was the idea of a clown hot tub party with no squids. Clowns enjoy international fame (or perhaps infamy) for their cephalopod predilections for a reason! The second source of confusion was trying to imagine the source of the suction-cup marks, if not a betentacled sea creature.

And then it came to me. I finally understood why Titania was whispering all this lore to her steed. It was indeed intended for my ears, not those of the Dennis brothers. She was telling me that there existed in the world something like an army of idiosyncratic ninjas crossbred with clowns, and armed with suction cups, just as I had always feared and suspected. By telling me she spared me the danger of learning that the hard way.

Now I merely faced the danger of passing along that intel to someone who could do something about it. And the danger of the clown-ninjas themselves.

Which was scarier — clown-ninjas, or ninja-clowns? I shuddered in my horse costume.

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More Sultry, Spine-Chilling Whispers

  • by Kentthis time nobody smelled the crocodile
  • see where the bubbles form
  • one of the downsides would be the pooping
  • camping out on beanbag chairs
  • moving in slow, sensuous circles

Tune in next time part 870      Click Here for Earlier Installments

More sultry, spine-chilling whispers reached me. I’d been too wrapped up in ninja speculations to keep up, and thus missed some of Titania’s lurid monologue.

“… this time nobody smelled the crocodile, which was disappointing. I had to make do with a masturbator alligator and see where the bubbles formed … ”

My mind reeled. I knew about the party she was describing. The infamous “Clown-Car Hot-Tub Convergence” of Minneapolis. Her sibilant narration continued.

“… is the main upside, while of course one of the downsides would be the pooping …”

She had to be baiting me. I hadn’t been at the CCHTC, not really, but several Academy classmates crashed it, camping out on beanbag chairs around the tub and taking notes like crazy. It was generally visualized as frothing, particolored chaos, like a birthday cake tossed into a tank of voracious piranhas, but those who were there reported a far different vibe. There was indeed some colorful foam on that hot tub, but it was moving in slow, sensuous circles on gentle, though kinky, currents of lust.

What I heard next was the most confusing thing so far.

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Titania’s Whisper

  • by jenlike he’s the last jasmine blossom
  • double my electric bill
  • figure out my buttermilk situation
  • knife-wielding spider god
  • kneads them like dough

Tune in next time part 869      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Titania’s whisper traveled down the neck of the horse costume, allowing me to easily hear every word she said.

“BimBam acts like he’s the last jasmine blossom in the florist’s shop.”

My blood ran cold. The Last Jasmine Blossom was the allegedly mythical ninja I had written my Academy thesis about. I’d spent many sleepless nights studying in the library, burning the midnight oil so that I didn’t double my electric bill. I’d come to the terrifying conclusion that the Last Jasmine Blossom was no mere cryptid. He (or she!) was the most dangerous ninja in history. My thesis defense was well-attended by other Academy students and alumni. Surely Titania knew of my conclusions. Was she implying obliquely, in the way of clowns, that BimBam Tickles, the Iron Clown of Svenborgia and the Last Jasmine Blossom were one and the same? My mind boggled. I’d rather figure out my buttermilk situation with a knife-wielding spider god than deal with something like that, and everyone knows my feelings on buttermilk.

My mind does more than boggle. It takes two such intimidating ideas and kneads them like dough. It puts them in the proving drawer and runs away screaming.

I tried to look on the bright side. Maybe Titania had figured out I was in the back half of the horse costume and was merely trying to scare me.

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