Ship of Fools: Heaven: A merry chaos of creativity, comedy

Thread: Heaven: A merry chaos of creativity, comedy - but no questions Board: Limbo / Ship of Fools.

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Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

Long have I squatted in the dark seething nether regions, chuckling malevolently to myself over some petty cruelty or other. Yet often there were times when I would look up to the Header of Heaven, and wonder what a chaos of creativity really meant, and how it was distilled into comedy. And it could happen - we've all seen it. Sure, not all the time, but often enough to fill a thread with reminescences of Heaven Threads past.

To figure this out I stalked Belisarius and, after studying his habits, abducted him and conducted a thorough autopsy. Bizarrely, he turned out to be filled with Jello Pudding, packed about a frame of twisted wires (possibly coathangers) and littered with firecrackers (probably duds). (Don't worry, I put him back together again - mostly. I am not sure where the lime peel was supposed to go.)

Failing this, I unleashed all of my most vile blackmails to force Erin to make me an Administrator so that I could peer at the workings behind Heaven itself - hoping that this would give me the fundamental answer to the chaotic comedy wrought from creativity.

Slinkies. It's full of Slinkies.

I understand none of it. Where to turn next in my investigation? To whom shall I turn for answers (and entrails)?

[ 30. October 2009, 09:39: Message edited by: Firenze ]

Posted by mousethief (# 953) on :

I'm busy all this week.

Posted by Lyda*Rose (# 4544) on :

How are you at self-vivisection, RooK? One of my favorite creations of "merry chaos" was Puppet Fights!

Posted by Zappa (# 8433) on :

Slinkies? Are you sure? Look closer.

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

The wild and untamed Mousethief prances from the edge of the wood and tosses his mayne - carefully calculated to give best effect to showing off his magical horne. Snorting contempt at the would-be hunters, he casually tramples the innocent virgins they've laid out as bait as he descends upon the watering hole. What do they think, that he is something merely fey, like a unicorne?

Fools.

Posted by Lamb Chopped (# 5528) on :

Virgin whats?

And I want to know more about this mayne.

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

Virgin virgins. (Have you never heard the term 'extra virgin'?)

Posted by joris2 (# 11137) on :

Referring to the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book seems unavoidable now.

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

Not forgetting the Fitzwilliam Slapper Book, with its interesting doxieologies.

Posted by Adeodatus (# 4992) on :

quote:
Originally posted by RooK:
Long have I squatted....

I think we've heard quite enough about your seething nether regions, thanks all the same. After all, I've heard it alleged this is a Christian website....

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

From across the meadow, looking upon the shimmering splendour of the Mousethief as he slakes his thirst, the wiley Lamb Chopped trembles with excitement.

"Look at the size of that guy's horne!"

She paws herself with a quick preening motion, careful to rid herself of any stray bones that may be tangled in her fur. Then, poofing out her tail to make herself look bigger, she fights to control her enthusiasm as she bounds lightly over to the drinking hole.

The majestic Mousethief raises his noble head to cooly regard the approaching fox, and thinks to himself, "Shit. Another groupie."

"Hello Master Mousethief!" The Lamb Chopped stops approaching but can't stop moving, fidgeting as she speaks. Squirming, even.

The Mousethief utters a curt snort by means of reply, but raises an eyebrow in that provocative sort of way that only gifted man-whores can accomplish. Because while he thinks little of the Lamb Chopped, that doesn't mean he isn't considering polishing his ego with her.

"Can I rub your horne?"

"Vulgar slattern!" The Mousethief is insulted, so he flashes her his pale hindquarters and leaps away.

The Lamb Chopped grins; the chase will now begin in earnest.

Posted by mousethief (# 953) on :

I'm sorry you lost your job, RooK. What are the prospects for your getting another soon?

Posted by Chorister (# 473) on :

It's babies. It does that to a man.

Posted by Zappa (# 8433) on :

quote:
Originally posted by Adeodatus:

quote:
Originally posted by RooK:
Long have I squatted....
I think we've heard quite enough about your seething nether regions, thanks all the same. After all, I've heard it alleged this is a Christian website....

Though fecal flakes are a recurring motif ...

Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on :

Ooh--a reprise of the (regrettably, pre-Oblivion) thread A Meteor Hits Heaven, which evolved into Walking with Shipmates. Taking it where we left off...

The Pope's blurting of "How did Dan Brown find out about that?" has triggered record lacepantisis levels in Ecclesiantics, effectively ending Heaven's Ice Age. The aftermath is chaotic, but far from merry.

The Mousethief and Lamb Chopped are but two of the many invading species in conflict with Heaven's former masters, the latter struggling in a world changed beyond recognition.

A pair of Megarookids, its species the last holdover from the original great Helliforme invasion, slogs through a particularly dense field of TV Show threads. The male Megarookid, with his distinctive hairless patches, loses his temper at the slow rate of progress; pulling out the Saved by the Bell thread, he rips and pummels it to shreds. The female has borne young; they must feed soon.

As if on cue, a Sinenominoid appears on an outcropping and proceeds to sun itself. Absent from Heaven for millennia, the boldest individuals are leaving their time-shares to recolonize, the opportunity for making catty comments about newcomers too strong to resist.

The male Megarookid quickly evaluates the strange new creature. Hunger overcoming caution, he ferociously leaps, hoping for an easy meal.

The Megarookid, of course, is completely unaware of the Sinenominoid's tool-making skills. The male crashes to the ground, roaring with pain and rage, a small, fork-like projectile embedded in his face.

As the Sinenominoid makes a leisurely exit, the female Megarookid tsks and approaches her mate, formulating a soothing affirmation exercise...

[ 08. June 2010, 17:38: Message edited by: Belisarius ]

Posted by joris2 (# 11137) on :

quote:
Originally posted by Zappa:
Though fecal flakes are a recurring motif ...

Fecal flakes? [Confused]

Darn! I just realized we're out of Chocolate Chip Cookies, again!

[ 10. August 2009, 18:33: Message edited by: joris2 ]

Posted by Mamacita (# 3659) on :

quote:
Originally posted by Belisarius:
The male [Sinenominoid] crashes to the ground, roaring with pain and rage, a small, fork-like projectile embedded in his face.

And did he not suffer rug burns in the process?

quote:
As the Sinenominoid makes a leisurely exit, the female Megarookid tsks and approaches her mate, formulating a soothing affirmation exercise...

But first she must carefully negotiate her way over the enormous stack of book threads, until she arrives, spent, her paws stained with ink.

Posted by jedijudy (# 333) on :

Ink? I thought it was all the stooberries ripening on the vines.

A gathering of fluffy bunnies hop about, filling their lacy panty baskets with the delectable treats...

Unfortunately the megarookid squashes a slow bunny.

Oh well.

He uses the fork-like implement to scrape the coney from his megatoes. It's just not the same without the distinctive "crunch" one gets when eating the still-hopping version.

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

quote:
Originally posted by neoBelisarius:
A Meteor Hits Heaven, which evolved into Walking with Shipmates.

THAT was its title; was trying to find it. I seem to recall that I was a diminutive bird-like creature last time...

The lumbering and painfully obvious Megarookid shrugs at the lingering jedijude and teeters forward from its bird-like posture to lick the remains of the bunny-goo from its toes. Then he casts his bemused gaze across the clearing to follow the chase of the darting Lambe Chopped after the bounding Mousethiefe.

At which point a squalling proto-Megarookid was thrust into the male Megarookids arms, utterly impeding his ability to watch events unfold.

Posted by Lamb Chopped (# 5528) on :

"Alas, fayre Florimell, endlesslye chas'd, and endlesslye chaste!.. Drat, I'm in the wrong poem. Let's try again.

The wily Lamb Chopped considers her quarrie, and his exceptionall horne; realyzes thatt onlie a vyrginne (drat this spelling) can hope to capture the Bounding Mousethiefe and bereave him of his Horne; and turns from the Chase to consider where she might find one of these Raritees.

Replies on a poste-carde please.

[ 11. August 2009, 02:40: Message edited by: Lamb Chopped ]

Posted by Lyda*Rose (# 4544) on :

Lamb Chopped realized that her only hope was to find the virgin or vyrginne Maxdot, put a rein on him, and lead him to the Mousethief's meadow. This was a weighty problem because nothing in this world had been known to pin down the Maxdot let alone rein him in. His songs of simple praise wafted thither and yon over the fields and hills. But if anyone sought to detain him with a serious snare, he'd stop singing and make a theological sound so outrageous that the hunter would gasp in disbelief and the Maxdot would slip through his grasp and be away and gone and none the worse.

Lamb needed a Plan.

Posted by Lamb Chopped (# 5528) on :

Dang, maybe I was in the right poem after all.

Lamb appealed to the inhabitants. "Ye all do know the Maxdot well," she cried. "What may tempt him, that I may capture his virginal selfe and use him in my Heinous Trappe?"

[ 11. August 2009, 11:00: Message edited by: Lamb Chopped ]

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

Dr Heinous Trappe, Alchemist, Necromancer and General Dealer, sniggered quietly from the shade of a passing Upas tree.

"Little does the Lamb know, as she goes about to ensnare the wambling Maxdot, that she herself is my prey! Igor!"

"Yessir! What's it to be, today? More brains?"

Trappe sighed. "The lisp, Igor. And the shuffle. Now, organise a staff meeting for this afternoon, at my lair".

"Yessiree! I mean, Yethuree! Hot diggedy. Digithy."

Meanwhile, in yet another part of the forest...

Posted by The Weeder (# 11321) on :

quote:
Originally posted by Firenze:
Meanwhile, in yet another part of the forest...

....fluffy bunnies began to weep

[ 11. August 2009, 17:28: Message edited by: The Weeder ]

Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on :

What should have been a joyous return to their world had become a nightmare.

Before the Impact, the Fluffy Bunnies had become sentient enough to send their best and fluffiest through a wormhole of their devising. Not sentient enough, however, to control the wormhole's destination.

Monstrous descendants of Hell's vermin now stalked the land--had already claimed a victim. Multiple story threads incestuously intertwined. What would the bunnies do?...

[ 11. August 2009, 18:05: Message edited by: Belisarius ]

Posted by jedijudy (# 333) on :

quote:
Originally posted by Belisarius:

What would the bunnies do?...

Bunns of the state of Mayne! And all the other Bunns, too! We must unite. The mayhem in our faire Heaven is too much to bear.

Daisy! You are in charge of heavy weaponry!

Cadbury! You are the leader of the Early Alert System. All you lops thump together whenever you detect any twisted and evil things among the threads.

We should choose a hellion to brainwash...someone who will be a spy for us. Who should we choose?

Hmmm...Gort? comet? She would be good, we could make her think she's a Reindeer. Any ideas, Fluffy Ones?

[speleink]

[ 11. August 2009, 20:12: Message edited by: jedijudy ]

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

"Order!"

Trappe rapped the table sharply with a rabbit skull.

Crazed yellow eyes turned in his direction. And opaque black ones, not so much mad as pitiless. In fact, there wasn't a sane eye in the place.

He banged the fragile dome of bone again, and it shattered.

"Igor" he muttered "Another bunny. I just need the head. Give the rest to Comet, it might stop her slavering for a bit."

"You goth it, master!"

"Now, Hellspawn, I want you to listen carefully...

Posted by KenWritez (# 3238) on :

quote:
Originally posted by RooK:
...[Belisarius] turned out to be filled with Jello Pudding....

What flavor?

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

quote:
What flavor?

Originally, it was butterscotch. Naturally. I didn't have enough pudding for the refill, though. He's bursting with low-fat yogurt now.

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

Ms. Boofyfluff wrinkled her pert little pink nose with dissatisfaction. "I say Mr. Cadbury, does she really mean for us to consort directly with... you know... see-oh-em-ee-tee?"

Cadbury casually removed the monacle from his right eye, polished it carefully, and placed it in position for his left eye. "Oh, indeed my dear Boofyfluff. I dare say it's a jolly wretched job for whichever poor lops are lined up for it."

"Heavens! Lined up, Mr. Cadbury?"

"Quite, Ms. Boofyfluff. The basic idea being that after a suitable number of bunnies have been consumed, the harridan will become temporarily sated, giving the remaining missionaries a brief respite in which to conduct discourse."

"How ghastly, Mr. Cadbury!"

"Indeed, Ms. Boofyfluff."

"Is there no other way, Mr. Cadbury?"

Cadbury paused to reflect, automatically doing the monacle transfer again out of habit. "Ummm, I can't think of anything else, Ms. Boofyfluff."

"Oh, I see, Mr. Cadbury. What if we fucked her up?"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Boofyfluff?"

"You know, Mr. Cadbury, pop a cap in her ass, or something of that sort."

"Ms. Boofyfluff?"

"Or, I don't know Mr. Cadbury, bash her up the side of the head with a motherfucking brick and then hire some well-endowed viagra-and-meth-stoked vagrants to ream her up the ass. I'm sure she'd be much less willing to fuck with us then."

"Ms. Boofyfluff!"

"Or maybe we could send her some nice choccies in the post with a nice note asking for her help, Mr. Cadbury? Mr. Cadbury? Oh, my! Mr. Cadbury seems to have developed narcolepsy!"

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

Trappe took the still warm and sticky bunny head from the eager Igor. He squinted at the distorted features: "I'm surprised you managed to catch her! I suppose she got her feet tangled in her cassock".

He turned to address the meeting once more. But the scent of fresh blood had maddened them further.

Guildenstern was running around as usual, throwing himself into the jaws of all and sundry, shrieking "Bite me!" while a small skunk darted into the fray, whining "Kick me!" colliding with a wizened revenant who whacked at it with his copy of the Daily Mail, batting it into the air where amid a volley of gunfire and shouts of "Damn gubbermint!" it exploded into a cloud of fur and giblets.

Trappe sighed. This was all going to be more difficult than he had thought.

[ 12. August 2009, 11:43: Message edited by: Firenze ]

Posted by The Weeder (# 11321) on :

and then he thought of the perfect sacrifice..... YORICK

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

But then, given Guildenstern's propensities, perhaps not. Heinous Trappe smiled thinly. As a sadist he knew the cruellest thing to say to a maschochist was 'No'.

Posted by Pax Romana (# 4653) on :

Excuse me ... um ... excuse me.

I seem to be lost. I think I have wandered into the wrong part of the forest and I don't know how to find my way. And people are talking about virgins and fecal flakes and Jello Pudding and Fluffy Bunnies.

Can somebody please help me?

Pax Romana

Posted by jedijudy (# 333) on :

Daisy looks up at Ms Pax Romana. "Yeah, Honey. We-uns can help yous, but in order to be led out'a dis place, yous has to help all us-uns dwarf bunns wit the heavy artillery.

"See dose big ole coconuts? Well, yous just has to put them in this dried-up puddle, and we-uns are gonna piddle on 'em. Save us-uns all the woik o' gittin' them moved, y'see? There ain't nothin' stinkier than bunny pee."

Poor Pax could see no other choice, she starts flinging coconuts to the indicated area. Dwarf bunns might be small, but they are tough !

Posted by Otter (# 12020) on :

An Otter lurks behind a tree, trying to think of something clever...

Posted by Pax Romana (# 4653) on :

Oof! My arm hurts from throwing all those coconuts. And I didn't even get to split one open and eat it!

Of course, I would not WANT to eat one after the dwarf bunnies have peed all over it.

Ah me! Whatever will I do?!

*is overcome by an attack of the vapors and falls to the ground*

Pax Romana

Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on :

"No, Ms. Boofyfluff--I thought you have might have this gift--this terrible, terrible gift..."

Ms. Boofyfluff bowed her head in deep respect as Professor Flopsy arthritically hopped towards her. When most of their race were frolicking with giddy contentment into Armageddon, a precious remnant had been persuaded, through the Professor's genius and fanatical determination, to risk escape by untried technology. Despite all the horrors they were now facing, Ms. Boofyfluff remained grateful.

"What gift, Professor?"

"My dear, you have just revealed an Unfluffy Side."

Ms. Boofyfluff froze in shock, then started trembling in anguish.

"I'm...unclean..."

"There, there," Professor Flopsy consoled as he paternally stroked Ms. Boofyfluff's fur. "I will not lie--you are now a bunny apart. Others will hold you in fear and digust. But you are now also a key to our survival..."

Posted by The Weeder (# 11321) on :

Ms Boofyfluff trembled. 'I am not worthy--but I will be the willing sacrifice' she sobbed.

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

"So, Igor, the candidates for the Jane Austen lookalike are assembled? Splendid. My bait to catch the Lamb. Well, Igor, don't just stand there looking uncomfortable. Open the doors."

A strangely reluctant Igor did as commanded.

"Sweet Belial!"

Trappe's horrorstruck gaze took in the frothing sea of lace and flounces, the tumbling folds of coloured silk, the acreage of embroidery.

"It was the wording of the ad, Master" gabbled Igor "'Staunch Anglican required: must look elegant in muslin'. It's Ecclethianticths. All of them".

"Well, you know the saying Igor. When life gives you lemons - drink gin. Fetch me a bottle."

Thus provided, it was a simple exercise to engage the attention of one befrilled figure, proffer a glass, exchange a few pleasantries, and finally for Trappe to draw a little closer to his new acquaintance, drop his voice a little, and indicating with the motion of his head another nearby begowned figure, murmur: "Don't know whether you've noticed, but that chap over there - argyle socks in Rogationtide."

The other stiffened, and his face contorting between horror and rage, lept upon the sock-wearer shrieking "Vile, sacreligous apostate!"

Within minutes the room was an eddying brawl, the sounds of rending garments, and the thud of candlestick on chasuble drowned only by the screamed profanities.

"Last one standing is our Jane Austen, I fancy".

Posted by Lamb Chopped (# 5528) on :

quote:
Originally posted by Pax Romana:
Excuse me ... um ... excuse me.

I seem to be lost. I think I have wandered into the wrong part of the forest and I don't know how to find my way. And people are talking about virgins and fecal flakes and Jello Pudding and Fluffy Bunnies.

Can somebody please help me?

Pax Romana

Certainly. Take one virgin, add to a vat of Jello Pudding, stir in the flakes...

Oh dear. I've just visualized Max.

[topples over]

Posted by The Weeder (# 11321) on :

[ 12. August 2009, 22:50: Message edited by: The Weeder ]

Posted by Miffy (# 1438) on :

quote:
Originally posted by Lamb Chopped:

quote:
Originally posted by Pax Romana:
Excuse me ... um ... excuse me.

I seem to be lost. I think I have wandered into the wrong part of the forest and I don't know how to find my way. And people are talking about virgins and fecal flakes and Jello Pudding and Fluffy Bunnies.

Can somebody please help me?

Pax Romana
Certainly. Take one virgin, add to a vat of Jello Pudding, stir in the flakes...

Oh dear. I've just visualized Max.

[topples over]

Sigh.

I too, feel a certain sense of dislocation after reading the above. I knew I should never have posted that old link in the Styx. Life has moved on and a new order has taken over. Oh to recapture the innocent gaiety and whimsy of those carefree times! Sunny smilie, come back. All is forgiven.

Posted by The Great Gumby (# 10989) on :

quote:
Originally posted by The Weeder:

That's easy for you to say.

Professor Flopsy peered worriedly over his glasses.

"I fear the Hellions have spread far from the vile, misbegotten swamp whence they first oozed into our world. While a certain degree of cross-breeding with the native population has reduced their natural aggression, the Purgatine clan are vicious if provoked, and may still pose a serious threat to our way of life."

"Then who is to be sacrificed to them?"

"Fear not, a blood offering will not be necessary. All we need is some fast messengers. These messengers will visit the Purgatines and spread discord among them."

"How will they do this?"

"By asking them questions. The Purgatines bond out of necessity, but their differences are many. We will simply bring those differences to the fore, run like the clappers, and watch from a distance as they tear each other limb from limb."

"What questions could possibly have such an effect?"

"In the right circumstances, just about any question will do, but there are a few which never fail. In the first wave, we will ask them about US foreign policy, PSA and the filioque. Then we will hit them with gun control, TEC, and anything to do with taxation. If any are left alive after that, they can probably be lured away to a safe distance by telling them there are gays in the distant region of Dedorse."

"Will that really work?"

"I'm sure of it, but the messengers must be sure to flee the very moment the message is delivered, not look back, and not become involved in the argument at any costs. Now find me the very fastest runners we have."

Once he was alone, Professor Flopsy slumped into a chair. It should work - it must work - but the mission was a dangerous one. If the Purgatines became suspicious of the messengers, things might get very messy indeed.

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

Deep in the umbrageous reaches of the forest, three figures moved stealthily - Trappe, Igor and an Archdeacon with a black eye, dressed in several torn cottas which had been recycled into an approximation of a high-waisted dress.

They came to the edge of a clearing.

"Pssst!"

"But I only had those two gins - "

"Shut up! And look - yonder - where she lies! My Lamb!"

"Where? Oh yes, I see her. Just in front of those dinosaury thingies. By the coconut stack. Near the pond with the unicorn. My, there are a lot of rabbits scurrying about, aren't there? Where do you think they're going?"

"Hmmm, yes, that is worrying. Some of them look purposeful".

Just then...

Posted by The Weeder (# 11321) on :

quote:
Originally posted by The Great Gumby:

quote:
Originally posted by The Weeder:

That's easy for you to say.

Having been rendered speechless by the forces lined up against the Companions, The Weeder went underground to await developments
[Eek!]

Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on :

quote:
Just then...

There was a blinding flash light--where there was empty space now stood the five searchers for the secrets of Flexus the Hairy's scroll (and Mr. Nudgewink) from Oblivion's The DVC Rip-Off/Smarmy Britcom Hybrid.

"I told you to ask for directions," sniffed Mrs. Littlehampton.

"Not now, Wilhelmina." Professor Littlehampton peered around--"Now, where the devil are--ah, some local inhabitants, by Jove."

The two groups surveyed each other with cautious interest, with Igor particularly scrutinizing Miss Honeybottom and Dr. Poncey the Archdeacon.

"Looks to me," sighed Goldstein of Arabia, "like another typical Post-Pleistocene-Medieval-Allegory-Watership-Down-Gothic-Melodrama scenario."

"Well, excuse us for living," snapped Trappe...

[ 13. August 2009, 18:40: Message edited by: Belisarius ]

Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on :

Mr. Cadbury hopped on doggedly, closely following the tracking device. He had been the first to volunteer to travel to Purgatory; he had to get away, as far as possible.

Ms. Foofyfluff, for whom he had had such a tender regard, to whom he would have declared his intentions were they to escape being eaten or stomped on for a decent interval, had become an object of horror...

[ 14. August 2009, 13:37: Message edited by: Belisarius ]

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

"I do beg your pardon!"

Absorbed as he was, Mr Cadbury had collided with a burly but harassed-looking figure dressed in the ruins of a vestment or two.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged that - er - chap with money - wifie thingie. Pretty damn essential."

"Eh?"

"It's not right, is it? Dr Trappe did explain it all, but I can't remember a lot - apart from the really extraordinarily generous donation to the Almshouse for Fraught Clergy. I'm supposed to engage some lamb or other in chat about love and marriage. I say, are you all right?"

"Alas! My beloved - "

"I say! It's not that rather raunchy little piece in leathers, with the armelite? Looking pretty pissed-off?"

"Yes. My darling Foofyfluff. My little hot, cross, bun."

Posted by Lamb Chopped (# 5528) on :

Oh dear! I hope it's Foofyfluff wearing the raunchy leathers, and not me. (But then I DID get dressed in the dark this morning...)

Never mind! Whilst we chatter, the Mousethiefe ys escaping, and the wombling Maxdot hath not crawl-yd out of the pudding yet! Alas, how shall I ever get that horne?

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

The tumultuous convergence of parties in the swampy end of the watering hole - Hellions, Fluffy Bunnies, and Hairy Scroll Searchers - aligns for one magical moment in a way that let Igor and Ms. Boofyfluff lock eyes. In each something deep and secret is unlocked, and they both know it.

"You."

"You!"

"I'm sure I've never seen you before, but I feel in my ooey gooey insides that I know you."

"Damn but I'm hard."

"And even as you say that naughty, naughty thing, I can see how it was inspired by something in you that was well-meant."

"Yer awful purty. Even without any fangs. And you make me feel... funny."

"Funny 'ha ha'?"

"No, like, I could be... good?... to you?"

"And I feel like I want to be bad with you."

A heavy gleaming metallic stump-like foot treads on Ms. Boofyfluff, killing her instantly with a wet crunch. The robot's voice rumbles from deep within its seamless chest. "You'll all be sorry. Pussies. You'll see."

Professor Littlehampton wonders aloud. "Hrrmm. I wonder what he means by that."

Trappe rolls his eyes and responds with a tone that implies that everybody knows this already. "It means that the hydra is coming."

As if introduced, a multiheaded lizard-like scrabbles out from under a rock. "Hyprocrites!" Screams one of its heads. Another head yells, "Fuck you!" A third head leans to one side, seeming to address Professor Littlehampton. "Those two aren't real."

The Professor naturally responds, "Are you real?" Trappe desperately makes hushing gestures, shaking his head.

"Of course not. Don't be idiotic. In reality, I am a beautiful swan!"

The Professor considers this, and finds himself unable to resist pointing out something. "Aren't swans, more, well... swan-like?"

"I can assure you that in reality I am exceptionally swan-like."

Trappe becomes quite insistent. "Mister, just stop. You're not going to get anywhere with him. Eventually he's just going to get so annoying that someone is going to step on him, and then he'll just grow another head we have to listen to."

A distant voice rolls in, "...told you so."

The Professor winces, having accidentally listened to the hydra some more. "Heavens, sir. What is to be done then?"

"I suggest wrapping your head in a towel."

"Ah. From Traal is it?"

The once-majestic Mousethieffe gallops past the scene with a foxy Lambe Chopped clinging perversely to his horne. "GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!! GET IT OFF!!!"

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

"Igor!"

"Yeth, Mathter?"

"How is the unicorn trap going? What are these capacitors doing all over the place? And what is that under that sheet? Let's have a little more light in here, shall we?"

"No! Not that switch!"

Blue-white streaks crackled and fizzed through the air. A battery of dials and gauges oscillated wildly, glowed, and exploded. Circuits shorted and shorts burst into flames.

"What the - "

In a lab now lit only by the dim glow from various bits of smouldering apparatus, Trappe and Igor saw something stir under the scorched sheet. From underneath there appeared a single twitching paw.

With a cry of delight, Igor pulled back the covering to reveal - matted fur criss-crossed with stitching, ears awry, fangs bared in a rictus grin, pale mad eyes staring - the revived Foofyfluff.

The limbs flailed, the jaws champed, and from deep within the creature a hoarse voice grated: "Foofyfluff kill robot. Foofyfluff kill everything."

[ 14. August 2009, 12:06: Message edited by: Firenze ]

Posted by The Weeder (# 11321) on :

And as she slithered to what had once been paws, her enraged eyes fell on the Rook. She screamed with abject lust, and bore down on him.

[ 14. August 2009, 13:50: Message edited by: The Weeder ]

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

And missed.

Largely because Rook was not present in Dr Trappe's laboratory.

But when you're a homicidal zombie rabbit with recent brain surgery, it's an easy mistake to make.

"She's escaping!"

"Good. That will enable you to concentrate on the unicorn trap. I want - hell's bells, what is it now?"

From outside there was a strange sound as of...

Posted by The Weeder (# 11321) on :

...an army of bunnies, waving Bibles , banners and singing praise songs. Some had guitars.

Posted by jedijudy (# 333) on :

Meanwhile, Daisy and her army of heavy weap-bunns threw a few stinky coconuts into the Bucket List, liberally sprinkled between the green blades, piled about three dozen around the kitty pron, and saved a good hundred moist bombs to lob at any hell-lions that might show their faces amongst the Heavenly threads.

Everyone knows that bunny pee is the most caustic substance on Earth.

Poor Boofyfluff, she was so beautiful. The one hope of the Fluffy Bunnies is that in her Vaderized form she can take revenge on the robot, the lizards and the fake swan, not to mention all those other strange and evil folk.

Kill them all !!!

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

So, who wants to write the lyrics to accompany the obviously required musical scene that comes next?

Posted by Chorister (# 473) on :

The Freak Chorus, you mean?
Bel's best at writing those.

Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on :

Bunnies: We're all brave and all true,
We'll all give our best try;
But whatever we do,
Chances are we would die.

Because from innate Fluff
We're unable to stray
We'd try nastier stuff
But Conscience gets in the way

We can't change how we are
For the time we're alive,
But we have a new star
Who will help us survive--

[ Foofyfluff appears and strikes a pose ]

Hail, Frankenfoofyfluff!
She'll save us now that times are rough!
Hail, Frankenfoofyfluff!
She's the toughest of the tough!

[ During the next verse, Foofyfluff rips off the Hyrda's heads one by one and then slowly swallows the decapitated corpse whole ]

1st Bunny: She used to pretty,
She used to be nice;
Now she's barren of pity
And colder than ice

2nd Bunny: I'd like to give her a hug
Just to show that I care,
But on my brains she would chug
Then toss my skull in the air

Bunnies: We can't have her for tea
Or frolics anymore;
But our hero is she,
Though she's all covered with gore--

Hail, Frankenfoofyfluff!
She'll save us now that times are rough!
Hail, Frankenfoofyfluff!
She's the toughest of the tough!

[ The bunnies vamp the chorus and do Les-Mis-type choreography around Foofyfluff (while keeping a respectful distance)... ]

[ 18. August 2009, 18:56: Message edited by: Belisarius ]

Posted by The Weeder (# 11321) on :

'Oh, for fucks sake', said Rook. 'Lets just eat them all. Forget the barby, just dig in.'

[ 18. August 2009, 22:39: Message edited by: The Weeder ]

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

"No one forgets The Barby!" said a robotic voice.

A spindle-limbed automaton stalked into view. The arms and legs were skeletal assemblages of rusting metal: the body had been sheathed in moulded silicone - particularly the upper chest - the head was a patchwork of blonde wig, metal and plastic. The juxtaposition of pouting lips and stainless steel teeth was particularly striking.

"Igor!" roared Dr Trappe. "So the rabbit is not your first attempt to build a girlfriend! Switch it off at once!"

But too late. The Barby Doll's swivelling laser eyes had caught sight of Foofyfluff and had begun to pulse redly.

"Igor belongs to Barby! Initiate rival elimination!"

Sweeping aside anything - bunny or hellion - which attempted to cross their path, the two terrible creations advanced towards each other.

Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on :

"Mee-ow," Dr. Poncey approvingly commented while sippng a White Zinfandel he had somehow procured. "This should be more entertaining than the last number--that Foofyfluff was no Sarah Brightman."

"But," Goldstein of Arabia countered, "didn't Sarah Brightman herself try to swallow a lizard whole after her triumphant debut in Phantom?"

"No, silly--that was Andrew Lloyd Weber helping to remove a pimento stuck in her teeth..."

[ 19. August 2009, 13:42: Message edited by: Belisarius ]

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

I'd like to thank Belly and Frenzy for making this thread suck less than it would have otherwise.

And I'd like to thank my son for providing the incidental sound effects to help flesh out the wailing character of the thread.

And I'd also like to thank the 40" high-definition TV I use as a monitor for the living room computer, because it lets me read stuff while I pace back and forth holding the squalling foley artist in a futile soothing manner.

We now return to our irregularly scheduled programming.

Posted by jedijudy (# 333) on :

The Fluffy Bunnies would like to thank RooKy for inviting them all to come over to his digs to watch the proceedings on his magnum, giganticum 40' Hi def TV, which he uses as a monitor for the living room computer. They volunteer to entertain the vocalizing Artist-in-Residence during this exciting episode of whatever-it-is.

They will, however, replace the fried rabbit luncheon with a nice salad.

Posted by Lamb Chopped (# 5528) on :

And you can use Mousethiefe's horne to toss the salad with--I finally got it off him. The Mayne might do for a baby blanket.

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

quote:
Originally posted by jedijudy:
magnum, giganticum 40' Hi def TV

Please. A 40" widescreen TV is on the the barely-adequate side.

Do fluffy bunnies eat chocolate? If so I'll need to hide mine. It would be awfully poor hosting to have to physically remove the chocolate from my guests' trachea via their chest. Which I would do, with a dull spoon, out of pure spite.

Posted by mousethief (# 953) on :

Ouch. Hey, give that back.

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

Do you really want it back after its been used to "toss someone's salad"?

Posted by mousethief (# 953) on :

If you knew what I've done with that horn.... A little Clorox Bleach and it'll be as good as new.

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

"OK, Lamb, maybe we should give the horne back - Lamb? Lamb? Omigod where's Lamb?!"

"And Dr Trappe?"

"And Igor?"

Faint and far, from the depths of the forest, came the sound of evil laughter mingled with indignant female screams and a plaintive cry of "But I am going fathter, Mathter".

"After them!"

Foofyfluff and Barby Doll, registering that their common love-object had fled, stopped in mid-throttle and joined the chase. Through brake and bush, over hill and dale they ran/hopped/galloped etc until at last -

Posted by jedijudy (# 333) on :

quote:
Originally posted by RooK:

Do fluffy bunnies eat chocolate? If so I'll need to hide mine. It would be awfully poor hosting to have to physically remove the chocolate from my guests' trachea via their chest. Which I would do, with a dull spoon, out of pure spite.

Gracious, the chocolate was wonderful. Who did you have to kill to get it? Anyway, no need to did it out of our digestive systems. You will find the processed version delivered in convenient pellet form all over the living room floor. Hornes are great for skewering the pellets for a little tasty little treat later for yourself and the missus.

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

"So" said Rook, appreciatively licking a claw "what do you think? Do we rescue Lamb from a fate worse than death? Or watch my box set of The Wombles? It's the director's cut, with all the sex and violence restored".

"Oooh, tough call" said the bunnies.

Posted by Lamb Chopped (# 5528) on :

Eeeeewwwwwww!

Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on :

Whereupon Trappe and Igor, the latter still clutching a struggling female form, burst through the patio door with appropriate levels of cacophony.

"HEY! We just had that door fixed! If I have to--"

Before RooK could finish his threat, Miss Honeybottom, Professor Littlehampton's voluptuous assistant, squirmed out of Igor's grasp and trotted to RooK. "Thank you so much for distracting that horrible man," she purred in his ear. Whatever can I do to repay--I know! I'll straighten out your living room!"

With a brief smoothing down of her skimpy outfit, Miss Honeybottom cheerfully attacked RooK's pile of books, DVDs, and esoteric manuals and quickly put them into a semblance of order.

"Now," she gleefully announced while adjusting her top, "everything is nice and stacked!"

"Ahem," said Mrs. RooK by way of introduction...

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

A Critique:

We make a point of leaving the front door open most of the time that we're home during the day, weather permitting.
The Horrible Man wasn't really all that distracted.
There are no piles in my living room. We haven't unpacked all the books yet (a wall of boxes to be transferred to a wall of shelves), I download/stream/Netflix instead of buying DVDs (a pox upon DRM), and the esoteric manuals are kept at work (to impress my superiors).
I'm more of a leg man.
Mrs. RooK is actually Doctor RooK (PsyD).

And, most importantly,
This Heaven Host Lure Thread already bagged us our limit.

Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on :

Oh, you're no fun.

quote:
Mrs. RooK is actually Doctor RooK (PsyD).

I remembered, but "Doctor RooK, wife of RooK" would have been a tad awkward and "RooK's nurse" would have confused non-veterans.

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

'Dr Rook' is good though. I'm seeing Comic Book Superhero. Having fallen into a vat of radioactive Edgar Allan Poe, she climbs out with the power of flight, night-vision and a penchant for nesting in Gothic ruins and croaking out gnomic polysyllables. Killer costume, incorporating lots of a sweeping black pinions, wild corvine hairdo, half-mask, leather gauntlets with talons.

I am THIS close to having her swoop down on the whole scenario and peck to death the entire cast.

[ 02. September 2009, 21:42: Message edited by: Firenze ]

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

Hmmm... Doctor Mrs. RooK, perhaps?

Regardless - you're right: I am no fun. I attribute this to clean living, being a control freak, and the sucker-like appendage that I can use to drain joy directly from others.

Posted by Firenze (# 619) on :

quote:
Originally posted by RooK:
Hmmm... Doctor Mrs. RooK, perhaps?

Sounds like a rather unpleasant imperative.

Posted by jedijudy (# 333) on :

quote:
Originally posted by RooK:

This Heaven Host Lure Thread already bagged us our limit.

The bunny droppings have been gathered and sorted, Master RooK.

Posted by Belisarius (# 32) on :

quote:
Originally posted by Firenze:

I am THIS close to having [comic book superhero Dr. Rook] swoop down on the whole scenario and peck to death the entire cast.

Best. Thread. Closing. Ever.

Posted by Earwig (# 12057) on :

quote:
Originally posted by RooK:
This Heaven Host Lure Thread already bagged us our limit.

Do you mean to say... this thread was a Trappe?
[Eek!]

Posted by RooK (# 1852) on :

A veritable Tarre Pitte.

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