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5-Word Story Compilation Thread

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  • 5-Word Story Compilation Thread

    In this thread, I'm going to periodically post compilations that I've made of long stretches of the 5-Word Story thread.

    The story so far, encompassing posts #1-140...

    The dark and stormy knight sailed in on white breakers. Feeling the call of nature, Fred sat down to think and he said to himself, "What? Where's the fire truck?"

    Suddenly, distant sirens are heard as firemen extinguish the bacon. "Dang, that's the third time this week I lost my fireproof trousers. Maybe Dino can dig up some more."

    As Fred stood to call "Therefore," US Americans, such as Wilma, can be very proud of the dryer lint, so she cleaned out her bellybutton and ate a French fry because she had no bacon.

    Meanwhile, Captain Airy said to the parrot on his shoulder, "Where are me leg, boyo?" Just then, the Rubbles came with Bamm-Bamm carrying his parents all the way to the car wash.

    After a shower, they rode home on Dino, leaving Fred the Dark Knight to fight crime with Dynomutt who had abandoned Blue Falcon over licensing issues and was borrowing equipment from Inspector Gadget and Inch High Private Eye to remove dye from pies, which is why Dick Dastardly fainted and fell into the latrine and probably what Fred intended all along.

    But, then a strong wind came along causing everyone to move upwind of Pigpen who came to get Snoopy's ball from Fred while the stormy knight offered free pony rides on his elephant.

    Next door, the gardener was busily planting seeds of doubt among the neighbors about that dark and stormy knight.

    Meanwhile, Penelope was tied to a huge mountain of debt thanks to Dudley Do-Right who pranced off into the sunset in the stormy knight's tutu because Nell and Horse had no reason to suspect that DVD collection of Mad Men could be used as a doorstop in Tennessee Tuxedo's house beside the one legged lamp that absconded with the five o'clock shadow of a doubt straight into the dawning of the age of Aquarius, which arrived immediately after the dusk causing the angry mermaids to pluck off all their scales and give them to Libra so he could use them for making weighty decisions concerning the Blue Falcon's latest book on barbecuing snail shells in vinegar.

    Meanwhile, in the lair of the Pussy Willow dragon flea, a horrific itching has commenced for which RogueTech would recommend bacon grease be liberally applied all over the storm window using a brisk circular motion. "You scoundrel!" shouted Captain Airy.

    Meanwhile, down on the farm, Old McDonald still can't spell which is why we are doomed to forever repeat burps that can be heard all over the TV Land prairie, including all the little houses that Shaggy and Scooby had painted in psychodelic colors with peppermint, tapioca, sardine [and] jalapeno pizza, then sat back to admire their artwork, which they promptly ate, then got into the Scoobymobile, which everyone else called the Mystery Machine which Fred had souped up with some Campbell's, hated by Scots everywhere, but used by meddling kids everywhere.

    At that moment the old bucket belonging to Daffy Duck kicked itself in the head, which is odd since buckets only use their hands when someone calls them a buckethead and they go into Jackie Chan mode, striking anything that even attempts to tip them or the cows they were hiding under.

    But, wait! What's the dark and stormy knight doing back on the beach? The descaled mermaids probably know. But they aren't snitching on him or Baney and Betty Boop. Along the way, though, Fred decided that he needed to hide his toes in the world of too many words which makes absolutely no sense!

    Waking from the weird dream, Shaggy looked at Scooby and poked him in the belly and giggled, "Grits and bacon," then thought, Hold the grits. "I'm tired of bacon!" he said in patently obvious jest -- whereupon an entire plate of dark chocolate with almonds appeared but got trampled by Fred's elephant.

    The pony rides were better, thanks to Bugs Bunny who volunteered Porky to replace the incandescent bulbs with CFLs. "That's... that's... that's... wrong," said Bob the Builder, laughing heartily.

    But Bob didn't see Bugs take a left turn at Milwaukee because the old turnpike used to be in Albequerque. But, there was a harepin to compile the first post.
    ~ Russell ("MelMak")

    "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b


  • #2
    Continuing on with posts #141-259...

    "Never!" shouted Captain Airy's parrot!

    "Always!" shouted his peg leg.

    So, being sneaky, Wiley Coyote decided to run for political office, promising a roadrunner in every pot.

    "Yeah, right," said George. "Dino smoked all my pot. And nobody can catch a elephant in a butterfly net with catfish for bait."

    But, coyotes are faster than roadrunners so the elephant will likely lose to the Road Runner just like Marcel always does. Whenever they bet on tiddlywinks, they lose all the winks which is as good as a maple leaf drifting lazily down during a category five hurricane on the west coast of Kukamunga.

    Meanwhile, the Rescue Rangers zipped over to Monterrey's largest nuthouse, disappointing Chip and Dale when they didn't bring back the dark and stormy knight. They would have but Goofy accidentally knocked Skipper into a large vat of chocolate and then yelled "Fire!"

    Suddenly, his brother asked him, "Why would you give Bam-Bam a colander to sift out Skipper after I used it for Garfield's litter box strainer which makes a lousy lasagna pan?"

    However, what happened next dwarfed the neighboring Frost Giant's expectations in a rather teensy, weensy yellow polka-dot bikini. Fred traded his unicycle for a new carpet (with) which Wilma could begin her new plan for world domination, which she would need knitting needles for since Mossy "borrowed" her pin.

    (But) mossy said, "I did not!"

    But everyone else loudly shouted, "That's right, mossy! As always!"

    High-divers in the desert nibbled on sandwiches and desert which was a bit sandy, because Sandy cut her finger while she was knitting a scarf with pins rather than needles and needed that wool from the Meloi Khryseoi as they fell off the tree and hit Newton on the head causing Leibniz to laugh and pontificate the philosophy that Newton was a big poopiehead, and golden sheep and/or apples aren't exactly a good diet as detoxicating in painful.

    Meanwhile, the dark and stormy knight carried a candle to his peddle-powered speedboat so quickly the candle went out. So, he lit a blowtorch and scared his noble Friesen into pooping on his elephant who screeched and ran away. This caused the horse to gather his mane and gallantly cook up some crispy bacon, which was consumed faster than that Friesen can gallop away from a cello playing weasel.

    Finished playing weasel, the cello decided to get a new mulberry bush. Around that time, Conrad ate an entire bowl of porridge from the table, wishing it was nine days old and not too hot, filled with light green mold.

    Carry on with the story now that the knight had sold, because the wimpy Sliver Surfer bought roller skates for the buffalo herd visit while whistling, "Can too rollerskate in here!" whereupon he tripped over an itsy bitsy polka-dot bikini, causing Wonder Woman to grab Fred's club which was laying underneath the aforementioned bikini.

    Batman found the secret entrance to the He-Man Women Haters Club, which was weird because She-Ra was yelling like Tarzan and bothering Archie Goodwin, which was strange since he wasn't there, which was why the case never got solved after all.

    Therefore, the Rainbow Fish was waiting at the bus stop sharing some gal's umbrella. The bus left, she stayed, love caused them to give each other love. Meanwhile, back on Planet Kebob, men were beginning to wonder what umbrellas had to do with dark chocolate and love at a bus stop.

    Meanwhile, back at the circus, the elephants greeted their long-lost trainer, who always fed them dark chocolate, bacon and umbrellas.
    ~ Russell ("MelMak")

    "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



    • #3
      Carrying on with posts #260-397...

      "How fair, thou yonder horse!" shouted the strange little man with the umbrella and the cat litter stored together in his matchbox ambulance and clown car combo, that the Matron Sisters traded for a shoebox full of IRS receipts from Donald Trump along with with hair styling tips that Fred had bought when he still had hair.

      While all this was happening, Marcia and Jan went to the windmill bazaar to shoot some groovy chicks for Greg, named Breezy and Windy, who shared a brain, if any. Both were a couple of airheads but not dumb enough to tilt at the windmills although they tilted the pinball machines, which made the silver ball crash right through the plexiglass hamster cage releasing all of Hamtaro's buddies, who scrambled, screaming "Banzai Buckaroo!" as they crossed the Eighth Dimension.

      But, suddenly the Matron Sisters snatched their wimple off and shook their gilded rulers at all the little Katzenjammer truants who were sledding downhill in mid-August in Canada. But, south of the North Pole where Rudoloph the Red knows rain, dear, along with his new friend Frosty the Snowman's wife, (nicknamed) Freezy, a volcano erupted! Running for the backdoor, Fred hollered to Shaggy and Scooby to grab the dark chocolate and bacon which they had already eaten when Crystal, Frosty's wife, was baking ice cubes in the dishwasher.

      The elephant wanted to wear Silver Surfer's roller skates right through the buffalo herd. Proving that a recurring theme is only funny until someone but Crystal, Frosty's sweetheart, said "Where is the bacon and chocolate," which was not very funny meanwhile, down on the farm Old McDonald told Young McDonald, "Learn how to spell 'cow,' dag-nabbit, or else Deputy Dawg will have one and that silly wabbit who's hiding in the briar patch will get all tarred out, which is silly, considering that Trix are overrated and icky to eat!"

      About this time Dynomutt returned for baby goats which prefer crosspost and disparaging Trix to wander the mountains of Colorado, the lair of the dreaded Stony Grassman of Weeds, the teetotaler who once said, "Life is like... uh, what?"

      Meanwhile, Fred decided to be more stormy, because women like Aqua Velva men and Wilma had a stormy nature herself, why Fred loved her so, aside from their mutual passion for dinosaur racing, which is pretty rare these days because of the decline of jockeys due to their eating losing dinosaurs -- or dinosaurs eating them, maybe.

      At this point Charlie Chan was as inscrutable as ever, until Number Two Son brought the elephant back into the Jacuzzi while Pixie and Dixie went to the car wash for a bubble brush to alleviate the bubble shortage in the Jacuzzi. But they forgot the ultra-extra-strength new-and-improved better-than-before scientifically-proven-and-Mother-approved RogueTech(TM) Deluxe Bubble Bath -- and industrial solvent, which makes absolutely no bubbles at all; just one enormous bubble that floated into the sixth dimension -- one more than intended.

      But it didn't matter to the elephant when the mice arrived because he was already out of his mind wanting peanuts.

      Meanwhile, on the flip side, Pixie and Dixie returned and the Bedrock Drive-In was packed with terrified elephants and mammoths dancing on the head of a bowling pin made out of Feta cheese which was quite mixed with elephant toe jam, because Rogue dared CP to prod some bovines with a tuning fork, which Toro the living lawnmower uses to recalibrate his microwave cellular set of electric bongo drums that Scooby-Doo gave Velma on her birthday because Shaggy was too shy.

      Meanwhile, at WKRP, there was plenty of pachyderm pandemonium pertaining to Les' ill-fated attempt to remove his bow tie and his Band-Aid until Johnny get his fever down and Jennifer got it back up until the Big Guy got Venus in a flytrap.

      Then, Dynomutt lifted his leg, watering with his new watering can the fire-breathing snapdragonflies that Venus flytrap had hoped to grow on the dark side, but were instead growing in liquid sunshine and moonbeams which had disastrous effects on immature, genetically challenged, belted frogs wearing knee socks and sandals.
      ~ Russell ("MelMak")

      "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



      • #4
        Posts #398-553...

        Raising her umbrella skyward, Jackie said, "Sun is bad for bushbabies! Didn't you know that?!"

        "Yes!" said Mandarin the delicious orange. "But the elephant forgot!"

        Luckily, Pepperidge Farms remembers and reminded Mandarin that horses should only speak when spoken to regardless of how Strong Bad impotently stomped his little foot and angrily brayed in protest.

        "Shall we hunt poachers?" queried Egghead on a scrambled frequency. "Let's find bacon and chocolate and party like it's 1999 until tomorrow. Then we might be hung over until next week."

        Amidst watching animations of cows, Clara had a brilliant revelation. So she got a glass menagerie of mechanized happiness that managed a miniature motorcycle.

        Meanwhile, Melody sang in harmony with Marcie who mixed muffin batter instead of making gingerbread men for Christmas. In the background, Cynthia went to visit Tess Trueheart and Gravel Gertie via flying car.

        "Horrors!" cried the Moon Maids in unison.

        "Zoinks!" shrieked the porridge maiden, as Scooby-Doo and Dyno-Mutt were sneaking contrary to Smeagol's wishes. "Sneaking?!"

        As the Dark Lord ate Oreos and drank cold milk, Saint Nicholas rolled over in his footed pajamas because he got poked by Rudolf's cold ruthless moneygrubbing foul smelling greedy Aunt Mabel, whose nose was longer than Pinocchio's left foot.

        Running to the rescue, Ivan stopped to smooch with Tess but his hesitation cost dearly. Aunt Mabel didn't care, though, allowing Scooby-Do and Dyno-Mutt to race through Marcie's kitchen unhindered hence successfully carting off all Cynthia's teal hair bows.

        Suddenly a giant lava wave approached! Frankie grabbed his asbestos surf board and made a mad dash that made Dash really mad, but someone shouted "Surf's up!" But the ocean was a sea of lava so it frightened Miss Muffet away. Spiders of the "Lavalantua" variety can do that to a person.

        In other news, Indiana Jones drank some Jones Soda and prompty threw up, gagging and drinking from Minnesota Fats' pool table. Digesting it was hard.

        Marcie was quite offended by how Shaggy and Scooby-Doo refused to wear kitchen hats in lieu of dining on bacon bits in the Ninth Circle K convenience store north of the kitchen.

        Once in stock, lock and barrel the cactus until you can make jelly. But jelly don't jam so well in the radar, thus rock and roll was invented to destroy the souls of the soulless stones and bread which had no souls anyway -- which brings us to realize that the Kaiser was on a roll.

        Sandwiches being a past thing, the wicked vizier lopped off all their heads with his vorpal butter knife, which he then used to butter his vorpal. However, the vorpal was sliced to fine quality, as no sound was made when the tree fell right where the bear pooped.

        Meanwhile, Velma lost her glasses in the aforementioned lava wave, confounding Hitler's plot to bomb the beach where the knight who said "Ni!" made lava which no one really needed.

        Because the lava lamp industry was suffering, Alex invented a disco mirror ball for pet dogs to entertain themselves with as Fred and Barney drank Fred's latest soda pop "invention" with reduced burpicity and increased iridescent flatulence (they fart rainbows) -- which is why... um... never mind.

        In other news, Betty Boop and Ally-Oop decided to get their hair braided, so they called the Catbus for a trip to the justice of the Unicorns concert down at city hall. There Betty became wrestler of the year after drinking the Incredible Hulk's protein shake when suddenly Barney burst in and said, "Wrong Betty."

        "Wrong about what?!" she replied. Barney pulled out a list. Meanwhile, Dino, having eaten chili, turned on Netflix to chill said chili. The chilly chili from Chile and Chili's Restaurant, that is.

        But -- an epiphany! "Pineapples aren't apples or pine," retorted Charlie Brown as he listened to Schroeder play Brahms on the xylophone his aunt played in the Russian army with Pavlov's dog who rang the Salvation Army kettle bell the day of Schoeder's birth.

        Suddenly a wild Chrawnus appeared, his blue hair flowing in the wind of winter around his left armpit which was sprouting orange colored hair and smelling oddly of lightly toasted Lekkerbrot.

        "Needs butter!" he cried, but got cream cheese instead and immediately launched into a diatribe on why Papa Smurf held his breath until he passed out and Gumby painted him mint green and yellow, causing severe depression amongst the shrinks.

        Having shrunken Gumby, they decided to enlarge Pokey who thought it was hokey and stuck his left hoof out the window to check if the ground was still salted caramel and dark chocolate, until someone wiped their nose with some poison ivy leaves. Then Betty Boop married Ally-Oop.
        ~ Russell ("MelMak")

        "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



        • #5
          Carrying merrily along with #554-731...

          Now Betty Boop-Oop, she lived with Daisy Duck's sister Maureen God.

          "Is not a chessplayer in our midst?!" questioned Fred, who had recently decided to applaud Chrawnus for joining in the quadrennial clam bake and baby burping contest sponsored by Rouge Tech Industries.

          Alex announced, "The flying car is ready!"

          But then, George crashed it right through Marcie's kitchen window that Sherlock Holmes cracked earlier to Cynthia's dismay. She declared a food fight with the home care nurse looking after the Blue Falcon's Maltese, Millennium. "Where's the Maltese Falcon?" asked Millenium, the Blue Falcon's Maltese.

          "Deja vu!" exclaimed Han Solo to Mr. Sulu and Gandalf, while Malcom Reynolds wrestled the creature from the Black Puddle.

          "Great Grated Groot!" grunted Grant, greatly grating Gruyère's goat cheese.

          "Golly Gee," giggled Gragarious Gail.

          "You fellows are totally loopy!" Toucan Sam said after he ate the entire box of Captain Crunch's Frosted Flakes cereal, including the box. Indigestion resulted, severely disrupting his plans for ingesting a box of Quisp and leaving him wide open to Wayne Gretzky's body check. "Why do I keep falling in love with food I am allergic to? It never occurs to me that I should just eat more bacon, crispy like before the war."

          Cooking with bacon soda, he got to bacon a lot, but not enough according to the hitchhikers' guide to the Galaxy 500 and other cars like a '65 Mustang GT, which, Alex noted, didn't fly. "Can fix that!" he shouted, and immediately called RogueTech.

          To send the flying squirrels to ride hover dogs into the sunset where birds will soar over the rainbow into the outer limits, where strange zones of twilight can be difficult to tell from the cheap seats up in the balcony, he fixed that. However, his nosebleeds would not cease! None of this went unobserved by those who bothered to cook their bacon until it gets crispy like before the war of the worlds of Wells, Lewis, Tolkein and Chesterton.

          Long grass covered the hole, so Melody fell right in! Landing on Alice's foot causing severe chafing and an inflamed larynx, Melody apologized profusely. "Forgive me, for I know not why Cynthia flew away in such a huff, yelling out 'LET ME DOWN!'"

          Years later, she got her frequent flyer miles rescinded because she tried detective work and failed. When the background check came in it was revealed that she failed her pilot's license test because of that little incident involving the large jar of apple pie flavored cookies. But she got to keep the left landing gear which was stuck in the down position, in much better condition than the black knight waiting on the shovel knight's demise.

          With whipped cream and a cherry flavored snow cone meant for Marcie, Alex ate it himself. Marcie cried herself to sleep, snoring so loudly that neighbors figured that the black helicopters needed an oil change.

          "Dragons provide the oil by being grouchy old fossils with highly compressable bones," mused Alex as he licked his lips and tried to whistle but only ended up spitting out his one good tooth along with the giant wad of tobakkie he got from Chewbacca last week at the picture show. Around this time Snow White Sands Missile Range and Kindergarten was acquired by RogueTech, which need no other explanation as often happens.

          However, we try to explain it anyways, as Rouge Tech acquired RogueTech to stop unwanted confusion over which cheek colour is best on a cheeky cheetah named Chuck Chip "Choo-Choo" Chang, Chester Cheetah's attention-seeking brother, who asks, "This is about CP, the prodder of bovines?", as the Cheap Sheep Cheese belted out that old melody Three Blind Mice, sung with knives at the ready to slice the bacon into too, too many pieces before realizing they had bacon bits and bytes.

          With a flourish, Elvis grated the nearest tiger which caused the tiger to try to change his spots, but they were grated off like cheese through a hot tin roof. Ivan Clawed growled at Claud's only surviving divan because it was possessed by a posse of possessive possums pausing purposefully, preparing piles of porpoise paws as Tennessee Tuxedo tracked Tess tirelessly!

          Running for Grand Poobah of the local Polar Bear Club since he received his new speedo from the itsy bitsy teeny weeny microdot that revealed the location of the bacon, Prelarius insisted on a polka-dotted Prius as per the preamble to the constitution of the Secret Order of French Fries.

          "And, um -- do you want fries in the shape of a Maltese Cross, which we usually only make for members who have served in the TWeb staff?" he asked. "Therefore! Let's play patty cake with Peppermint Patty." So they did.

          Unfortunately, Prelarius discovered his allergy and performed some nasal flatulations that came out sounding like a flock of wereplatypuses playing Bohemian Rhapsody on nose flutes led by Dorkie Tearsweat, with twenty unicorns playing their horns upon a gentle summer morn.

          Right before the kazoo playing commenced, Dorkie laced her shoes with limp spaghetti, sans meatballs. Her favorite word was uttered: "Sesquipedalian? Me? Loquaciousness ennobles conventional --" And the room fell silent as a horse. The horse, of course, was Mr. Ed, she said, and went to bed. Then her alarm went off!
          ~ Russell ("MelMak")

          "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



          • #6
            I've been neglecting this for a while, and it took me all morning to put together, but here be posts #732-1080...

            "It was all a dream!" Bob told Emily his wife, before falling out of bed onto a passing zamboni that recently escaped from the zamboni petting zoo in Canookistan where pygmies are always freezing since they can't acclimatize to the walk-in freezers where the bodies of former zambonis are kept chilled until it's time for the feast of Steven when King Wenceslas wears the golden tuque of Tutankhamen, after washing out the socks and underwear after going three months without a shower.

            Meanwhile, back at the ranch of a thousand islands, Caesar cried, "Seize her!" Hordes amassed as she she had a seizure of assets from the IRS, otherwise known as the Horde.

            "Hoarding hoarding is a serious business," decried Dr. Kildare as he dared to kill there.

            Meanwhile in Canada, the mounties donned their red serge and surged toward Red Deer, Alberta -- although Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan was an option they hadn't considered due to maple syrup flooding the Winnipeg flood overflow around the wall of zambonis built on the Plains of Abraham!

            Disproving the long-held theory that Tim Horton's serves tacos, Abraham ordered coffee. The plains ran away with the spoon. Leaving a distraught plate of bacon, he pondered his actions while wolfing down the bacon and directing wolf whistles towards the seemingly shy girl who brought her milkshake to the coffee maker to add rum instead of milk so that the guy ogling her would get the royal flush.

            Meanwhile, Black Jack ran straight towards the cribbage table where the bassinet was cradled by a ladle, since the spade'll never have the heart to club a diamond in the sky, and thus "ended this story. Now get back to work!" -- or some fools thought. It turns out they're right to be wrong since they bork chicky in the pot which the lazy pirates smoked the end of over the plank.

            But there was no way to predict how far a Canuckistani would chase the puck after they spotted a baby seal that ordered coffee and Timbits from a tuque wearing polar bear arms. Yet someone did. She clubbed the seal and ate its pilfered Timbits, along with the tray they came on, and washed it all down with gallons of Molson Gold and went home with a tummy ache.

            Sick in bed -- with new seal fur slippers (at least that's what they were until they started moving!) -- in horror he jumped back into line to get tickets for the musical group Lottery. Unfortunately, they'd sold out, so tickets for the Cheap Sheep Cheese were counterfeited so that he could sneak past the watchful watch watchers watching paint dry-cleaned out of their waistcoats. "They're wasting time," shouted the stormy knight, long forgotten. "Therefore!"

            Forever forswearing four word swearing for wearing "Force Awakens" noseplugs and other paraphernalia, Fanny fainted into the stormy knight's arms as he was trying to pour maple syrup onto his bacon.

            The nearby colony of ants called their pal Bullwinkle to task because he forgot to pull Rocky out of his hat where Rocky had been storing his collection of Playsquirrel magazines. "Who left those in there?" Bullwinkle queried. "Musta been Boris. He's always been jealous of my chewed gum collection, lightly toasted tractor tyre flavor, and the way I spell."

            "A likely tale!" scoffs Sherlock while boarding the Hindenburg II, setting sail for the Florida, before the Titanic flew off and exploded over the Keys, leaving the door's lock unopenable and the door in pieces.

            "Oh, the huge manatee!" he observed, as it floated by with its hair on fire. "Wait, that's not hair! It's Donald Trump's toupee smoking a kipper! He'll be back for the red herrings who snorted at his lack of class."

            As the stormy knight sighed, his foot fell asleep. Prickly heat which Boudreaux's Butt Paste makes far worse, he found, began to enter said foot, shouting "Olly olly oxen free!" Newly freed, the oxen began tiptoeing through the tulips together with Tiny Tim and his seventy-six trombones and electric ukelele, but the tulips were plastic, annoying the swarm of bees, already late to their honeymoon.

            The honeymooners opened Pandora's Box Cracker Jacks to see if Jack could crack them back before Ralph and Norton's back door flew open, revealing a moon. "To Alice!" it cried, cracking a vertical smile full of black Tic-Tacs and lacking lackeys Ralph and Norton called the Hack Attack Track Pack.

            To crack backs, they jacked a Yak Snack Shack back, which caused the wimmenfolk to sack the quarterback with lots of pink slips and termination, causing consternation across the nation. We have got the information at the Haitian taxation station.

            As this was going on, multiple sharknados approached the coast just after the baboonami struck, annoying the godzilla piranha swarms that the lavantulas gobbled up immediately. Then all was calm.

            Just before Fred burst into tears, he lamented the condition of his prize leeks, grown in dragon poop provided by Rogue Tech Confectionery and Wedding, paid for with Confederate money stolen from CP's piggy bank, made from bacon.

            Chocolate rained on everyone's parade of tin soldiers, evoking lots of "told ya's" sung to beautiful music played by a one-man submarine pond-skimming amphibious green hippopotamus impersonator band.

            While balancing deftly on the diving board, the hysterical hypothetical hypenated hydra hurled helpless howling hostages high and dry up on to the next level to face the Alabamastani crazy cat lady and her fifty Bengali tigers which is what she called Cuddle Munchkin Sub-Pack 00000000001A, used to detonate run-on sentences.

            Throughout all this, Fred continued to wonder why the Black Hole hadn't spaghettified him yet, which made him increasingly hungry from his beloved lasagna-making wife of 20 ice ages. (That's what they called their infrequent spats over leaving the fridge door open.) Now hungry, Fred stopped at Tequila Mockingbird for some tacos made by Paco from Taos, washed down with sour milk instead of the sour cream as planned.

            Having a fit, the dress was too large. Because the Brit wit slit the knit bit, it split, like appeasing peace peas do. "I'm for whirled peas!" shouted Doctor Array, while performing surgery with her Red Ryder BB on a wounded mosquito with surrounding life-sucking Metroids!

            "Hark!" Harold the angel bleated as Herc turned, thinking he had heard of third herd of bored boorish Boer boar aboard a dinghy with an outboard, carrying a cache of cash to his flash moustache stash that rued the rude slight of homonyms ad hominin.

            "Curses! I'll sue the pseudo-Sioux sewing pro show banjo crossbows glowing," quoth the pickle o'er the door, while trimming its dreadlocks with scissors, zithers -- whate'er they be -- even a sore soaring sword from the Boar Boring Board.

            Sheik shakes it off awefully, adores the door lawfully, and says, "When did this become an excercise in rhyme?" But Fred, the martial marshal (knight) marshalled the marred shell of mighty mites which might bite bright white tights tonight. "Not my tighty whities!" squealed the luddite with stage fright.

            In response, Fred ordered the bacon, bacon, bacon and bacon, that's topped with bacon bits with a side order of dark chocolate on the side of bacon, crispy like before it gets overcooked and burned in a wave of lava cake issuing from the kitchen where Ma is unpacking bacon wrapped in dark, dark chocolate.

            Suitably enticed, Loki emerges from the Tunnel of Love, thoroughly soaked from falling out of a clogged shower head without a parachute made out of fairy wings and dandelion fluff stitched together with unicorn hair and magical happy thoughts. Predictably, mainly maneless unicorns were miffed and made Moriarty their mayor, who said he sure lucked out ever since Holmes lost the ball game.

            Two runners means more strawberry plants for Watson II, Ida Know III's steam-powered vegetable patch launcher, made from a modified trebuchet pilfered from the walls of the well-mannered minor miner's manor -- meaning Manfred "Manly" Mann moaned, "How now brown cow," causing an Apache cattle stampede through the Manhattan skyline, only stopping at a rooftop swimming pool where some Buffalo, New York bisons sipped daintily from crystal decanters while whining about the wine and sharing scandalous prairie gossip.

            Before the police raided their little soiree to congratulate them, Ms. Soirée repented of her evil ways and turned Melody loose to spread the gospel. "Christ is risen today!" she proclaimed far and wide to all who would listen (plus-sized men and wimmenfolk included).

            Then an airship crashed through the Mushroom Kingdom's castle! "Help! My insurance forms aren't signed!" Causing the vultures to smirk and sing their favourite song, Princess Toadstool changed her name to "That's What Friends Are For," to escape the burning shame of being ninja'd by MelMak and get back on track running on the front tract, because this isn't an act that a good axe couldn't crack, so don't look back as you hit the road with a snarky Toad.

            But the sick sheik shakes his half-baked cake, takes a rake to chase Jake the Snake who's no flake or fake as Super Chicken will attest. "Let me talk about spam," the Vikings in the diner sang deep from the diaphragm of the local stage tram with a battering ram, covered with raspberry marmalade. (Maybe jam.)

            While ordering spam with spam and gobs of dark chocolate which mossy promptly confiscated, so they then had to cram more spam into their spam with a side of lamb with some fava beans and stressed electrocardiogram.

            "Yam jam's a session with Will-i-am and Fergie, up bright and early with a fully functional keyboard!" exclaimed the dark and stormy knight and his sidekick, Weather Girl, who kicked his backside for sidling up to her back -- after which, without much delay, Martin the Martian asked for a markedly Martian martini maker named Marcia, known for shaking and baking, not stirring and stringing Martin along on a wild goose chase for snipe hunts, red herring fishing and radioactive bait and switching worms on the hooks retroactively causing multiple time paradoxes and the Tardis to appear with an array of bewildering gadgets, some of which looked remarkably like they were designed by Vogon poets and Klingon pacifists while drunk and distracted by Jedi hoola-hoop acrobats wearing tutus and swarms of angry wasps wafting about awaiting the big crunch at the restaurant at the end of the universe.
            ~ Russell ("MelMak")

            "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



            • #7
              Continuing the lunacy with posts #1081-1457...

              "Too much information!" cried Melody, wishing she hadn't delayed compiling a list of her least favorite foods -- starting with aardvark tongue casserole with sautéed snail shells simmering so slightly over cheese. Silently suffering, she sauntered salaciously. Seeking solace so subtle, she seldom senses it, having raided the local bookshelf.

              So, she threw the throne as far as its books painstakingly proscribed to five decimal systems, including -- but not limited to -- the end of the "99 Bottles of Beer" song in seven-part harmony with a quartet of stray alley cats as the throne crashed, singing "Rock This Town" and strutting like a blind drunk rooster at Mardi Gras in Rio Lobo.

              Elsewhere, the purple irises bloomed into dazzling explosions of winks and blinks as eye teeth were pulled without anaesthetic causing toes to curl -- but Cynthia's magnifying glass proved otherwise. Hence, Harold the herald ran the hungry hungry hippo hustler mincing the mints, as a mink in the sink blinked, instead of winked, at the pink-ink-drinking sphinx, linking lynx to LYNX computers via Amazon Whispersync. When sinking, think a lip-syncing Pink Panther a rinky-dink panther.

              Have you any wool? Yes, sir! Three ounces makes a big shawl. Though a bit scratchy, unless it's cashmere mixed with angora and served with pistachios and coffee beans, wool is abrasive. Especially steel wool, which is fun to burn and swing in the eyes of an overfed maniacal Mesopotamian rust monster escaped from a D&D game along with a horde of endless sentences.

              The monster lives in an adorable little apartment overlooking Central Park with his fluffy poodle called Wrathful Devourer. "Thy punctuation stinketh!" he barked, before howling at the moon and turning into a goblin -- at which point Spiderman arrived with Legolas to vanquish it using a moldering leg of lamb (or possibly egg and jam). This, of course, upset the cabbage cart that the poor singing damsel lugged along the pro-bending stadium's lower concourse, after those meddlesome kids and mangy mutt foiled her plans.

              All of this prompted the actor to remember his lines but forget to show up to rehearse them. Giant warthogs pulling sleds full of possums ran over Melody, depleting her chilly chili from Chile stash causing serious jalapeno-withdrawl cold turkey across Turkey. This in turn caused the blue shovel to pick a fight with the pick axe pickers of Pickwick who, oddly enough, were armed with pink flourescent swizzle sticks.

              The battle was fierce but the devastating air strike from RogueTech Hover Dog Air Corp couldn't prevail against the shovels that had dug deeply into the pile of leaves outside, which provided camouflage for the 500-megaton thermonuclear dishwasher (for those really hard-to-clean dishes). Assault hamsters began a barrage of limp noodle powered badminton Horse Trials leftovers, upsetting the apple cart that cartwheeled crazily through buckets of muppet puppets, causing Marianne's marionettes to march to a different drum, inspiring songs of woe.

              "Whoa!" cried Bill and Ted.

              "Neigh," retorted the ostentatious horse, eating his honey for his hoarse throat.

              "No sir, I don't like green eggs and spam," said Mossy, as she viewed banned bawling bald bands who banded Band-Aids into bandicoot bandanas, overshadowing Melody's headband. The skunks raised their tails and hightailed over hill and over dale, leaving comatose "combed-toe" sloths in Cynthia's dresser, leaving her unamused. But, Melody kept giggling while Tess made funny faces at her reflection in the mirror. After the mirror shattered, all sense of proportion vanished, causing Alice to tumble out but leave her left arm behind.

              Being replaced with a Cheshire champion chimpanzee anti-chainmail chainsaw along with a cool "boomstick", for those extra stubborn stains? Give me some sugar, baby! Cockroaches are surprisingly fussy eaters. So shop smart. Shop S-mart for your interdimensional insurance needs.

              Long lines began to form of tourists visiting Mount Doom, causing Sauron to start selling glittering Ring Pops of power, causing much indigestion upon consumption as colons were now bound with silmarilly string to the entertaining dancing trees goblin down lembas chops with Minto sauce, causing Sauron stomachs and orcward conversations. Luckily, they Hobbiton know breakfast before elven o'clock is Shire to cure indigestion upon being swallowed whole by a Capistrano seagull named Smeagol.

              "There's Moria than I expected since they're supposedly all Aragon extinct. I Saruman catch one in a Pokémon ball until it escaped." Mandos things are maudlin, especially on mandalore mandolins -- until Mandy found a minister, a man daring Mandarin to compose a camaraderie of common critters contaminating common creature comforts by living in a shoe.

              Which the Heel evicted the poor old lady living there since she could no longer foot the bill or toe of Which the Heel's itinerant cobbler fixed, while gobbling a ginormous gobsmacker generously given by giggling great Georgian goat grabbers giddily gorging on great gobs of neighborhoods.

              "Who are the baskets of kumquats for?" asked Norm, from his bar stool. "And I distinctly remember asking Woody for beer, not kumquats."

              "Sorry, Mr. Peterson. Kumquats confuse the poor oranges," replied Wilson to Tim, Dennis the Menace's Maniacal Marxist millionaire manservant, making Scooby and the gang suspicious.

              "Those meddling kids are always getting mettle medals of metal from me telling them my exponentially expended ice didn't expand!" Explaining why we can't have nice things or Canadian bacon, Doc Brown went back to 1885 to stop Buford Tannen from eating all the bacon that Mossy was cooking for Melody for her twentieth birthday. It was a long explanation.

              Involving wombats, reinforced concrete and Owly McOwlface's Tootsie Roll Pop, Cynthia put the clues together and laughed in Velma's face. Removing the Velma mask, Cynthia discovered that danger-prone Daphne only smelled like a zombie, when she dated a White Walker and forgot to shower afterwards. Even the Mystery Machine refused a shower. The car washes, in the promises of politicians, went out of business due of minding their own business and not greasing enough palms, instead of greasing the elbows.

              Leprechauns started fighting faeries over who could eat more more marshmallows, causing the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man to notice his missing toenail clippings he saved in a paroxysm of orderliness, frightening all of the Seven Dwarves, and Snow White fainted into the Sikh sheik's satin sheets, causing the Cheap Sheep Cheese to prepare the laundry for the nearby nudist colony's residents. This greatly alarmed the girls, who paddled away as quickly, using elephant ears as oars, as Superman chasing a runaway trained tiger wearing a train.

              "But, they dropped the oars!" gasped the ever-watchful Fleegle, as the waterfall loomed closer.

              "Ain't that pretty!" whispered Phoebe, as she plunged three thousand spears into some guy's fragile inflatable raft made out of water balloons and blu-tack, so even duct tape wouldn't help.

              "My post-modern life non-preserver!" squealed Mae West about her inflated popularity ratings, due to lacklustre earrings from the fires of Mordor after Sam tossed Gollum a delicious Smeagol salad with a steaming baked potato covered with bacon and dark chocolate! Everyone agreed to a lunch at Elrond's place, since he served troll soup.

              "Yummy!" declared everybody but the trolls and orcs, who all wanted bacon -- proving they have good taste. Or, maybe they taste good! (And are possibly less filling.) "Earrings to rule them all!" And onion rings just rule. Bath rings not so much, espeically when Snorky and Drooper started a gnarly jamming session.

              "But I prefer jelly," complained Alice, munching on dried mouse jammed in a jelly jar filled with tweetle beetles, on a wall where an egg battles bottles on a poodle eating noodles.

              "My son John is long gone, over hills of dust and gloom. However, where my dog comes from Trump makes America great again. A land of Milk-Bones and retrograde video gaming," declared FM.

              "No politics, FM!" proclaimed Mossy.

              "Not politics -- sense," said FM.

              "Nonsense only allowed in here!"

              "Okay then," FM shrugged. "Yxboom detonated the Cartesian Coordinate Bomb." And thus, sent Trout flying halfway to Hamtranck, Michigan, where five little monkeys jumped on the bow of a ship until the field mice activated the Omega Thirteen device, changing the ship into a bed which Deep Thought napped on as it solved the complex fluctuating compound interest rates that greatly compound a run-on sentence.

              During this time dozens of woodchucks chucked wood into a furnace, increasing its productivity levels for all time. "The end is near!" cried the strange woodchuck, as he doused the dual duel do-overs in Dover and dove into the diva's dire dryer to doze despairingly until the timer went off.

              Suitably refreshed, he grated twelve drummers drumming. Eleven pipers piping gasped in horror and called the local radio station to order a large pepperoni pizza. Unfortunately, they sent a vegan delivery boy, who burst into the room and loudly proclaimed: "All my pizzas are tofu!"

              "Bacon," declared Rogue, winning the war but losing the battle of the bulge. While this is happening, Cher hides in the shade of a horse of a different color's pigmentation. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the shadow of Mr. Hyde hid in the hide, hunting butterflies using spider webs and fairy droppings for bait.

              With baited breath, Hyde waited tables in the haunted restaurant at the end of the year. The Christmas rush was illusionary -- doubly so at lunchtime buffet tables. The tofu salad, being declared a toxic WMD, was detonated by the vegan Suicide Squad of the Judean chapter of the Judas Priest Kazoo and Vuvuzela Tribute Band. The racket awoke the sleeping tennis ball, while the birdie was par for the course of painful injections into the conversations of those not interested in auto racing.

              "Flat tires don't make for good spare room decorations," Father used to mumble as he buried the elephant in the room behind the molehill in the yard while the marching band paraded pandas playing piccolos and percussion, and not knowing that they were becoming crazy cat ladies, their thoughts turned to gnomes.

              The pixies, naturally, were furious and opened a portal to the basement of Willy Wonka's Vermicious Knid Farm and Bait Shoppe for Snipes of all Ages, Sizes and and Toenail Lengths. The smallest become Oompa Loompas surviving on dark chocolate alone, with their thoughts in Mossy's Tuesday afternoon shipping container of special baby seal clubs for sport and home protection against Mossy brooding and glaring at the two of us whistling innocently.

              As giant peaches began rolling, Melody ran for her life from the swarm of seagulls arrogantly rollerskating on the peach, frustrating the sharks to no end. The Lorax propped up the eco-terrorists of Earth First! by duct-taping rolled-up magazines to their microbusses after drawing moustaches on their statues of Captain Planet.

              "Expelliarmus!" The spell rebounded off Rorschach's journal from October twelfth, 1985, resulting in a gasp from the comedian as he plummets adown Koshtra Pivrarcha, unequalled mountain, obviously, except for Koshtra Belorn.

              Mutually insulted, the mountains duelled via cutting insults and nasty reviews of each other's poetry. Naturally, this resulted in artificial insemination fees skyrocketing, due to inflated egos along with deflating bouncy castles slowly sinking into a morass of self-recriminations and apologetically served maple syrup popped per proper papal proclamation with whimsical white walnut whip cream. All of the caused severe indigeston and acid reflux in the compilation post's editor.
              ~ Russell ("MelMak")

              "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



              • #8
                The insanity ensues with posts #1458-1899!

                Meanwhile, back at the beach, Moondoggie asked Gidget if she would like to join in surfing the worldwide web for the ultimate tsunami of memes. Instead they found Toonami's animes, and were horrified by the gaping plot holes that threatened to become a different net, assaulting a census of senses that incensed the sensei's ents who formed a committee about 20 years ago, and elected that the run-on sentences cease.

                Great was the cessation thereof! That is, until the cesspool decided to process a recess. And off the sentence went, down to the Camptown races. Doo dah, doo dah. All the king's horses and all to Jesus I surrender, all of my days.

                "Great bacon is crispy back like we -- gah, even Speedwagon is afraid!" Easily distracted, Phoebe changed subjects. Then, something shiny came along. "Look, a squirrel!" she shouted, and the shiny squirrel would shimmy shakily to her shanty, causing strange looks from those who look really strange to the staid strangers straggling and stuttering stupid sonnets of sympathetic shellackery.

                Meanwhile, the heir apparent apparently appeared peerless peering alone along the awful offal, disgustedly discussed among discus dissers cussing in protest over dual duelling discus distances, cruel yule mule fuel rules, and other nonsense -- all of which led the inescapable conclusion that vacuum cleaners suck.

                Grumbled the disgruntled housekeeper to the gruntled custodial engineer who used ewes among the yews, "Starting with past-tense verbs, we will educate lemurs, possums, and bacon!" Nodding in agreement, the fake faker's faux foe feebly fretted for fear of the feted fetid feet's feat (fouling fowl wing fuelling fountains).

                At this point, the Knights Who Say "Ni!" demanded a ransom. In protest, the shrubbery went and got a larch from Lurch. Wednesday wasn't pleased. "Thursday was distressed, and Friday just 'wanted the facts, ma'am' (but never actually said that)," replied the raven.

                Having no bananas, Scotty beamed him up, perilously wearing unparalled purloined pearls purposefully purring, "Five per person!"

                Apparently completely unrelated to this, but inexplicably still mentioned by Trump as being a "yuuuuge" card player, the wallpaper grew wallflowers who all lined up to show what appeared to be a borg cube fleet of foot fleeing flea circuses and bearded birds breaking bread. So, they mustered the mustard, mastered the Faster Plaster-Cast Blaster™, and used it to obliterate Baron Barry's barren berry stash, and they ate Barry instead.

                A swarm of killer tomatoes came today from New Braunfuls, and started heading east toward Rio de Jinero, Brazil. Gasp. But Henrietta Hippo intercepted them, and now we have gazpacho -- if you want to scrape it using a mix of seagulls, duct tape and plastic fencing. All of this caused Cher's plastic components to start melting, leaving nothing but a shrill parrot with a wooden wing containing Kirby's bottomless stomach. Inhaling a Russian bug, the parrot cried "Abandon ship!" as Kirby inhaled the ship.

                Not amused, Commander Ramius launched torpedoes at the great white shark named Das Boot, causing Canukistanis to apologize profusely simply because they thought it was "aboot maple syrup prices, eh, bub?" causing Mounties to mount a tempermental team of Clydesdale horses from Clyde's Mount Temple ranch.

                They looked majestic riding away in an old Ford Fairlane with dual exhaust and huge spinning rims within spinning rims like the proverbial wheel within a wheel, and the cherubim flashed a flaming sword to impress all of the ladies and gentlemen nearby, to stop wearing their hair so long and teach them to cook, thus explaining why Chef quit to persue his dream of becoming a Muppet. Not amused, Statler and Waldorf booed from pretending to be ghosts of neanderthal cave-painting critics.

                "Ug! Mammoth milk tastes awful!" complained Fred. Manny scowled since Ellie began a raging charge against the over-charging of service charges and refused to tip the waitress. This led to cow tipping, which caused the bull to grab Fred by the horns.

                The crowd roared its approval as Juan Sanchez MCMCLXXXVII flourished horrid florid floral figurines figuring thicker wicker sticker picker figures, causing MelMak to sigh, exasperated with the clogged print head jammed with homonyms and rhymes and ectoplasmic slmes left there. One thing led to another, and America dropped two nuclear families into Disney World to measure how small the world is compared to the huge, I mean "yuuuge" Donald Trump card.

                "What's a 'politics?'" queried the extremely blond moderator of questionable intelligence who wasn't moderate (or a good orator either), associated with the founding of the Boogie Woogie Bugle Boys (a Beagle Boys subsidiary).

                Scrooge McDuck ducked all questions involving Ducky the medical examiner on who really was the uncle (or "U.N.C.L.E.") and named so by Gibbs who often fibs and calls dibs much to the chagrin of the affordably, adorable yet deplorable basket of fish and chips full of blue bug's blood money that he got by calling dibs. All of this happened according to the schemes of Lex Luthor's substitute Bob Smith, devouring bacon at the moment.

                A monumental and momentous moment later, Hannah triumphed over the sisters while in Montana with Havanna Banana Bandana Banner banter. This naturally forced Hanna-Barbera to invoke the Americana Act, section three, confidential footnote four (just beside the juice stain), reading (translated from the Sumerian):

                "No parking your pyramid in spots designated for camels to avoid passing chariots and swarms of street sweepers riding unicycles, unless accosted by a uniformed milk man carrying gallons of tea and crumpets for crummy dummies who don't appreciate a cruddy, crumbly, curmudgeonly crumbum cuddling while mumbling, tumbling and bumbling."

                Meanwhile, MelMak pulled out his combination dinner set and genuine authentic artificial leather napkins, causing video games to be created where no man has gone to Costco on Labor Day, which is inappropriately named because there are just as many women in labor at any other time of the year, which is why birthdays are celebrated on a monthly basis, but only one birthday per person, so as not to make greeting card companies richer.

                Fortunately, nobody makes unbirthday cards because everyone's too busy celebrating the hookah-smoking caterpillar's unbirthday to even notice the large mushroom on which it sat, and on which you munched on lembas for second breakfast.

                "You know what would improve this?" the debonair rogue asked.

                "Let me guess. Bacon bits?" the caterpillar sighed while he thought of whole strips instead.

                "And crispy, like before the stinkin' pirates started stealing and getting their peg legs stuck in the hole meant for ninjas to see through at the appointed hour for Waldo to finally find himself through self-hypnosis!"

                But he got sidetracked, and found his keys down the storm drain where Killer Croc and his cronies battle The Lizard for control of the dreaded Bacon Despoiler, a slack slacked sad sack backtracking hack lacking the knack to sing "My Sharona" in G minor while being gently lost in your rock and roll parody of Beethoven's radical drum solo during chopsticks roasting on an open fire.

                While chess nuts boasted in open foyers, Jack's frosty attitude could be seen in the way he grated the great gate of Heaven State Park with his mate, the great spaghetti ninja lord, "Cannelloninjitsu" Ozamataz Buckshank MCMXVII (Mrs.) -- whose friends call her "Marge" -- using the self-controlling u&iSkate device (including exploding battery while stocks of huuuuge bamboo-based snacks and coffee-flavoured limpet mines last!)

                While this was happening, the Royal Frog Trampling Institute conspired to contemplate constipating Congressional complacency, coming to conservative conclusions, consequently summoning no less than nine cubic miles of gelatinous hedgehogs in order to persuade the trifle sharks to ally with tiddlywink-playing periwinkle-colored petunias, heirs to the legacy of Harry "Hairy" Harrison's Hare-Brained Heirlooms Incorporated, whose share price recently spiked after its CEO announced it would no longer donate donuts to diligently demure debutantes, discouraging their daily dietary discipline of determined, detrimental denial.

                Then we move to the letter E, encompassing each and every Easter to enter Eastern Europe's epiphanies exciting every ethnic Ethiopian entrant and forcing fraudulent fakirs from fooling French foundry foremen for following fallacious ferrymen feasting flawlessly garnished Georgian goulash, gaining gastronomic heights with hellish hounds howling.

                At this point MelMak cried in horror as his thread burned the roof of the rough alliteration asylum! "Horrors!" he cried. As horrid, hoary old prostitutes prostrated themselves for posterity, cherries chosen from cheerfully chubby cherubs cheekily chastising churlish Czech chaplains chewed a Studebaker rudely.

                "Therefore! (I think!)" declared the stoned lone drone in a monotone phone near God's throne zone and moaned, "My bones! Postpone the pheremones!" The wasps went away, leaving the hornets, African bees and a few horseflies hovering hoovering, moving new things along with old vacuum cleaners which tended to suck greatly.

                Much like all these jokes often find themselves echoing aimlessly, neglecting the deep philosophical truth, hidden in squirrels's biting patterns as described by bipedal mooses, the beginning of their wisdom is knowing their own strength. In numbers is an illusion illustriously alluded to in illustrations, such as "Bob's your uncle." In their tails lies might untapped that could destroy the fine china that grandma collected from the mobsters she terrorized with her Devastating Doilies of Doom™.

                Dick Dastardly didn't drive Muttley to PetSmart because he forgot his store card, missing the sale on Scooby Snacks. Mutley muttered about Russian fashion and how preposterous a tree house made out of cheese would look like if painted using pimentos, plums and pistachios and some polar bear tears. Distracted, Disk Dastardly delightfully decided dodos don't dissolve down to dinosaur DNA, deeming dead dialects definitively destroyed.

                Even elephants empathised with energy entrepreneurs' emphatic eulogy following Fred Flintstone's fumbling failure to fuel ferrous furnaces flatulently gushing gross gasses with gusto gurning grotesquely and grinning, helped by the fascinating, enthralling gaze of Ozymandias to be broken, freeing Rorschach to go play some checkers. Then he decided to paint abstract art others confused for undercooked pizza.

                After procrastination, Sweet Polly Purebred pondered why hippos aren't hip, concluding that the bark of dogwoods are enough to snuff a gruff and split in two a mountain of surplus kibble, engulfing all nine oceans of Mitsubishi in a tidal wave of Gravy Train induced panic attacks, derailing the 9:05 from Paddington Bear's suitcase's marmalade-filled secret compartment which houses no less than Yogi's stolen pic-a-nic baskets that transform into slavering xenomorphs when Boo-Boo- Bear mentions Ranger Smith.

                Distancing himself from the impending Facehuggers as Smith is mentioned, the treehuggers face planted ficus free from frail furry foxes flailing fitfully for fake fakirs following Frodo's fearsome financial fate.

                At this point, danger-prone Daphne dumbly decided to double down her claims regarding Volkswagen poetry which gave the Vogons a chaste faux foe to chase down a pseudo rabbit hole that led to the realm of vampire lawyers and zombie bureaucrats, which is rather redundant when you consider how much worse zombie lawyers and vampire bureaucrats can be under the moonlight when not wearing their standard holy water resistant lime green My Little Pony ties, which were carved from the hides of Swamp Thing's pet alligators.

                All of this forced the Ruminati to stroke their beards with gilded fish bone combs, while the Ruminati chewed over half-baked ketchup-laced aluminum-sauced Neomorph meat served on antique fine china, also used by the Inebriati when intoxicated on plum pudding left to ferment for twenty fortnights in a Jiffy Pop pan, in the process fumigating the tree house of the queen bee's blue bonnet that blew Baloo into the loo, breaking the china in the shop.

                Of course, China immediately retaliated with a sternly-worded letter to Finnish fortune cookie factories to insert passive-aggressive put-downs into their repertoire of passé regressive reports on posse egression resorts, inevitably leading fillies in lead-filled filigree pedigree decrees, fulfilling in degrees which lent lint during Lent loosened lunar lumber load limits on double byte characters sets.

                This in turn scarred scared werebears repairing their lair where six-year-old apple juice kept in new wine skins had caused no end of endless temporary short-lasting eternities to contradict themselves and disappear in mystical mist missed by Miss Mississippi, Missy Mistletoe, mistaking it for Misty Missip's Missouri missiles missing Mr. Miskall's miserly mission to Miskatonic Muggles (AKA "no-majs"), mislabeled as Mystics, misleading Mrs. M into firing off 007, causing giraffes to start necking.

                The hippos took offence, breaking up with their rhino suitors and donned power armour, expecting the rabid rascally rabbits to drop from orbit onto their Tyrannosaurus rex battle steeds armed with Roguetech thermonuclear butter slicers for sale, at the low low price of twenty-nine billion Zimbabwean dollars, and a used napkin painting machine's middle bolt. "Deal," said the Ferengi bartender, forgetting that he didn't have any busted pirate's treasure to negotiate with, since he lost the map he pirated off Fred.

                "Wilma, where my map?!" roared the Ferengi bartender, confused by the sudden appearance of the Rubbles with the Jetsons on the mist hologram that had Rosie O'Donnell as Betty Boop cosplayer Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson as Bimbo, her boyfriend, juggling geese while yodeling The Star-Spangled Banner in Cantonese, then whistling it in French-Canadian, which differs from standard Canadian in that it owns fifty varieties of white flags tasting of maple syrup and disturbingly runny cheese. "My condolences, about the new compiled post."
                ~ Russell ("MelMak")

                "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



                • #9
                  Yet more craziness with posts #1900-2648!

                  Thus ended the start of interpreted posts, which ran slower. Causing faster fasters to feast over the yellow brick road, Dorothy queried the questionable quacking from behind the nearby bushes which turned out to be George and Jeb's duck calls which got Jed's turkeys to gooble the famous search engine Dogpile, which failed to compile the punctuation into any given sentence.

                  Meanwhile, back at the cabin fever anonymous intervention, overcrowding was crowded out by the in-crowd. Under the cover of darkness, undercover dark ops nestle Nestlé but caused the melting of wayward hearts just looking for dark chocolate Easter bunnies, although some nefarious white chocolate lovers chewed off their ears before looking around to find the way to Narnia blocked by two dozen jelly doughnut commandos commanding common comrades complying with a quantity of queries.

                  Qualitatively, questioning Quincy Quaid's Quiche quota while in other news, the Scooby and Shaggy swore it was secretly storing sassy Sasquatches in Sacramento. "Zoinks!" cried Shaggy, as Thelma removed her Sasquatch detector earrings (with optional grenade sniffing piglets upon request), causing an allergic reaction, that then blossomed into a head cold and cold feet which normally Velma but the rather large Sasquatch was really old man Wilkins who dressed up as Billy Miner.

                  "Spooooon!" bellowed The Tick, crashing through the minor mirror mixing my Nerf gun-wielding miniature minotaur mincing mints and leaching leeches, oiling owls and pinching peaches -- causing poor MelMak to implode at all the ludicrosity involved in invoking countless contrived homonyms. "Those meddling kids!" he bellowed. "My plans have been ruined!" The police are still persuing Sweet Polly Purebred's purloined petunias packed with whirled peas, and a super energy vitamin pill produces panic aplenty when it gets stuck in your throat and Underdog does rescue breathing -- or panting, if you prefer.

                  Meanwhile, down on the farm, Arnold the Pig swapped bacon with Felix and his new chainsaw yoga instructor, Tinkerbell the awfully awful offal juggler offloading off-road officials off-campus without withholding wherewithal while wishing exceedingly exciting exploits, except for zippy zebra zephyr zigzagging zenith. "Y'all have gone bonkers," exclaimed Buckbeak the wyvern, preening himself in front of the mold-encrusted entrance to what used to be a giant hot dog.

                  In other news, the Apricot Immolators' Union held their annual banned band and barred band under the auspicious of Barry the barren baron, buried beneath Barry's berry barrow burrow, unlikely to resurface. Silently wailing, Wally the Whale waled on the Wailing Whale's wheel wall past passing the Passenger Pigeon Appreciation Society's Annual Cage Match. Therefore, one must fall greatly!

                  "Are you quoting Yoda?" asked Speedy Gonzales, who had run Yosemite Sam out of town. Forgetting the armed Slow-Poke Rodriguez who held up three gas-filled balloons with his tail, the operating room's toaster suddenly produced flying, flatulent ice cubes who begged her ladyship's pardon. Meanwhile, in Central City, the Mirror Master reflexively reflected upon the referee's reflexes, re-flexing his corduroy corded corrugated corpulent corpuscle, cordially cornered coordinating corded cords, correspondingly corny crafting corroded corms during dunking Dunkin' Donuts' doughnuts with the nuts around him.

                  "I resemble that remark," grumbled Nutty McNutface, nuclear-powered squirrel trainer who can't count to five due to his lacking thumbs and relying on technicalities as his ninja lawyer brain training. "I must have a shrubbery!"

                  "But shrubbers are going extinct," interjected the interrupting intruder, inadvertantly.

                  "Then preserve them in formaldehyde!" Bob, the hedgerow cutter, ignored the Knights Who Say "Ni!" Preferring to indulge in his video game preference of the merry married Mario sister, Mary, then the music got louder when the DJ got down off his high horse and started horsing around with his stallion stampede synthesizer station, stirring Wyld Stallyns to perform most excellently in his chocolate milk. It objected.

                  Meanwhile, back on the farm, Porky Pig wooed Petunia with Shubert's Ardaggio on a Ukelele accompanied by nose flutes and world-famous kazoo soprano Antonio Banderas along with his all girl electric oboe orchestra with Neon Genesis Evangelion-styled wardrobe plus tiger-striped kazoos which were played by leopard skin wearing seals who juggled geese while riding on six white horses while horsing around the mulberry bush above the Bush's shrubbery sought by Rubber Shrubber Scrubber Brothers Inc.

                  Personable personal personnel personage's personailty persuades suede shade braiders to sway away the day and pray they're here to stay. The gnu knew new news unglues blue shrew shoes through the sound of moos. Sick freaks chuckle knowingly when the dreaded undead thread is revived by using potent thread necromancy.

                  "Begone, foul and unnatural revenant!" cried Gandalf, brandishing the light sabre wondering why it's not switching on, then finding that a mile long extension cord had been chewed through by Chewbacca's nephew Chewbackatya, known for his impressive dental gymnastic feats including balancing five chainsaws on his 426 Hemi-powered unicycle with a pitchfork in his teeth holding a sumo wrestler's mawashi daintily, sprinkled with crushed Carolina Reaper -- which explains the look on the hippo's face as he hyped his herculean hypnotic handshake.

                  "Hark! Hungry hordes hurry hither!" harped Harold Hardrada, holding Helsinki Hannah's huge hairy hound Hellen hostage.

                  "Help, he's hurting her!" hollered Henry Higgins, hurriedly hanging hastily wasted paste at face recognition sensors, releasing the Kraken From Outer Space that comes but once a year, on Intergalactic Pancake Day, celebrated throughout the Pancake Galaxy since the Titan attacked the wall of Jericho, but while in Toledo everything seemed calm, until Jaltus divided by zero and the unicorn navy swept up from their magical fortress deep within the dreaded Undefined Chasm where they encountered a vicious killer rabbit near Caerbannog with a death scythe owned by Hugh U. Ewe the Huge Hued Manatee, hewing human hubris he humbly helped hundreds have.

                  Revolted yet fascinated, Prospero couldn't open the jar of galactic space worms that chewed on Chewbacca's chewing tobacco that turned them into enormous spine-chilling jellied-filled killer donuts who say "Ni" simply because they can. Girding his loins, and lining his girdle, Bad Vlad Putin broke into a rousing rendition of Van Halen's "Jump" while playing air mandolin and his galactic fans leaped toward him on steam-powered pogo sticks, juggling depleted uranium chainsaws with pink polka-dots and poison dripping from their pointiest protrusions.

                  "Party on," moderators moderately moderating moderations proclaimed over the clamour of clam clique's clicking chilly chili castanets dancing down the daring deserted desert streets sans dessert and desperately dehydrated. Dick Dastardly decided to take two titanic torpedoes to trash the Turbo Terrific into a thousand pieces of productive produce purportedly prolifically produced per Paragraph One of Ordinance Six.

                  You have to carry ads for four adze, adding additional adder-based additives to taste for toasted tasteless Taoists tickling ten tense tenderloin tenders tenderly taxed tachs tacked to the tachometers of tachyons tackled by teeming Thai teams tying tense tennis shoes twice, to taunt terrified tarantulas trying to tell twenty bars of Amway soap to rather lather another brother with interpretation into Arachno-American Sign Language.

                  Triggering Bill to build billets billing Sybil "Duck-billed" Vanderbilt's Bilateral bailing, bawling bald bailiff's bailey, "Below the belt!" bellyached Belinda aloud as she allowed Art Blart to park his cart by the Art Part Mart resulting in the world's biggest consignment of permitted Romulan ale in the ailing isle's aisles causing multiple smiles for miles for Miles Forman's forty-fourth foreward to Forewarned Forewards Ford Waters which is about fording fjords waving swords for adored rewards for enduring Harry Kim's interminable first date horror stories.

                  Meanwhile Scooby-Doo was still wondering where Shaggy had found all those bored Boer boars boorishly boring burrows beneath the brewers' sewer, so sewers named Sue sued so soothingly, Sioux soothsayers soon terribly tired, thrummed tinnily to undulating ukeleles under Uruguayan umbrellas causing Sparko to scream "Arrrrrrrrr!"

                  While Sparko's ears were covered, by ear muffins (he never was afeared of mossy), the cromulent Cardassian colonial changeling corvettes destroyed his distillery, disappointing the dozens of dedicated drunken devotees who dispersed at daybreak, darkening every deck of the Enterprise with their rowdy presence. Kirk told Bones to prepare hydrosprays to sober them up, which, of course, was something he did for Scotty every day. He gotta case of Scotch tape laced with whisky stuck in traffic on Rigel VII horrifying drunk DIY enthusiasts everywhere.

                  Misguided Imperial Storm Troopers lost their blasters, quadrupling their deadliness in playing canasta with Gandalf who only won by 3,000 percent increase in the cost of rocket-propelled chainsaw pacifiers, available from roguetech™ labs and bait-shop alongside such infant-friendly products as Junior Scientist Atomic Energy Lab™, My Baby's Anthrax Cultivation Kit, My First Rusty Razor Pacifier, thermite birthday candles, and depleted uranium going back in time.

                  Suddenly, the dark and stormy knight sat and told a tale of a fateful trip, that was a lot less interesting after rum supplies dried up causing him to turn to fermented Scooby snacks drenched in a nice chianti with lima Peru grown limes brought in by Wesley Crusher's mother, who while drunk on Elverquisst, bumbled about the holodeck, demanding grated great grilles grilled by greasy green grunts guarding gargantuan gorrillas from Greece.

                  All of this made Kryten almost annoyed, leading C3PO to become speechless as R2D2's profanity-laced tirade was bleeped by Gloop and Gleep for the sake of the children mixing up Molotov cocktails in roguetech's new flamethrower testing shed and barbecue which required three thousand gallons of gasoline per chicken wing for extra crispy.

                  Meanwhile, back on the farm, pitchforks mysteriously began to disappear as word of roguetech's latest model of rocket-propelled chainsaws have crashed into the barn and reduced it to toothpick-sized splinters which, of course, caught fire when doused with gasoline and breathed on after consuming roguetech's brandy and paint stripper, "Frobscottle", which unfortunately resulted in the price of Maalox rising higher than the flying trains! Expectantly, Dirk Gently noted the inter-connectivity of Chuck Norris' eyebrows, which struck fear in the hearts of Captain Janeway's Kazon foes.

                  And yet Fred and Barney read the Blarney Stone with Moondoggie and Gidget dancing to "Walk the Dinosaur," which was just Jed and mossy strolling through the remains of roguetech's lab and bait shop which has now released its toxic waste oozed out from Alabamastan until cutting the Georgia pipeline designed to return the sludge to roguetech's new baby formula, "Radium Rocket's Boffo Baby Chow: Extra Glow in the Dark, Fortified with Uranium 238!" which earned a Nobel Prize since it's back in Georgia where Alabamistanis won't be chugging it, being smarter than roguetech's Georgians -- although Cardassians on the Enterprise corralled enterprising Kardashian coral.

                  Having shot all the punsters dirty looks after downing shots of bootlegged Romulan ale, earning yet another Pepto-Bismol award warning that was tersely worded scaring mossy into revealing her secret addiction to beer pong, a vice she shared with Viceroy and Vice President Vice Versa, both of whom decided to voice voluptuous Vera Vivaldi's vehement all things Canuckistani after Trudeau embarrassed himself in public again, which wasn't news, Bob then abdicated his soybean throne to the Knights Who Say Ni.

                  In the Delta Quadrant, Janeway's mental health was deteriorating faster than a speeding bullet after sampling Neelix's improved recipe for Scooby Snacks and popcorn -- which was why letting Dynamutt assist him was the best for KAOS to Get Smart a new shoe phone after he sold the resoled one to a little old lady who only wore them on the hunt for Red October during May Day parades in Siberia, causing a chain reaction resulting in the macarena.

                  Meanwhile, daisy chain wearing dazing cosplayers were horrified to hear that Pinky and the Brain had taken over the world! "Narf," chanted the Justice League enchanted by possessed Cabbage Patch Dolls that the stork strike stuck them with.

                  The only way the Guardians of the Galaxy could eat was to program Nemo's Nautilus to pop popcorn while singing the macarena backwards and line dancing with gerbils atop a unicycling elephant seal wearing a polka dot mawashi that was rather ripe after being worn for three weeks while riding bareback on a three-legged Stegosaurus called Cow Poke after the notorious bovine prodder Slim Pickens picked slim pickets from a grim thicket in Billy and Mandy's Grim Adventures and Grim retaliated by disintegrating Bert's unibrow, causing Ernie to dual wield chainsaws while bellowing Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" in harmony with the cyborg pixie playing a Peruvian Nose Flute designed by Jean-Luc Picard's twin doppelgangers Doug and Donnie "Rhino Wrestler" Robinson, kindergarten supervisors.

                  And yet, in spite of the vampire tech support desk getting garlic on the pizza, they managed to deliver it in 30 minutes or less before the sun came up and turned them into fertilizer used to grow mushrooms for Bowser's great plan of revenge of putting them on his pizza with pepperoni and pineapple hand grenades (hand tossed, naturally) with thermonuclear salad on the floor since nobody wanted it apart from Thirsty, who used it to fashion a radioactive, glowing shoe lining for him to piddle around and away with NSA operatives on a mission to stop insidious Alabamistani plots to disguise cats as squirrels -- an abomination that must be thwarted at all costs!

                  Therefore, Mississippivites were allowed to invade and apply copious duct tape to Garfield's lasagna tray. This annoyed the cat so much, he mewled pitifully until Teal tragically let him in the Huntsville's Marshall Space Flight Center where he commandeered a nuclear powered roller skate that unfortunately disintegrated at mach 3 when Garfield tweaked it by twerking, gravely disappointing John, and crashed the market in jellybeans.

                  In response, the candy mafia bombed Bonn with bombastic bonbons resulting in 96-hour sugar rushes throughout the 7-day vegan chainsaw juggling convention in Bombay, Bangkok and Boise with several attendees found in the peanut gallery in Peoria though tragically, allergies prevented them from pelting people with the legumes. So, they hurled bowling balls instead of elephants.

                  During this meme-infested time, colorful metaphors plagued MelMak with never-ending run-on sentences, a veritable Gordian knot of homonyms, alliterations and out-right gobbledygook and blathering blatherskite, which Gizmoduck foretold in a lucid moment before turning back into Fenton Crackshell and fired by Scrooge McDuck. "Now Gandra will dump me!" proclaimed Polly the Portuguese Parrot, perturbing Petunia the Polynesian Porpoise, and purposely so.

                  Meanwhile, the Arc Welding Machine of Doom, revealed by Scooby and the Harbingers of Awesome™ to be Old Man Smither's housekeeper in a radioactive trash can, left by Captain Cutler's "ghost" (a coat rack covered with marshmallows, cotton balls and mothballs giving him away). "I would have gotten away with free stuff if it wasn't for you metal detectors at the doors. I deserve this 485-inch TV!" Judge Judy shook her head case defendant by the throat after he tried to blame his clumsy lies, woeful stupidity and poor dental hygiene on Elmer Fudd and Yosemite Sam's choice of headwear.

                  "Hat priviledge!" declared the March Hare before diving into a vat of roiling royal jelly mistaking it for carrot juice, ending up weighing carats for Jews in the house where parrots choose piqued patriarchs peeking at peaks while Pikachu pecks at piquant-flavored peanuts while playing Pinochle with a sentient pin-cushion, pinata pimp previously picked by Petunia Pipidopolous, picky pink potato pincher -- causing the Alliteration Abuse Squad Advanced Attack Airship Armada to catastrophically crash into the thread callously causing countless casualties, culminating in a cash cache cascading into carpenter caste castanet caskets causing cries of "ENOUGH!" from all and sundry present.

                  Taking a break from adventuring, Sinbad started a radioactive ant farm disappointing Spider-Man but pleasing Ant-Man who threw a party to celebrate Wasp's decision to become a backing singer for Sting and summon a summer Sumner ceiling seal to seize siege engines from Sergeant Serge Surgeon rather than turning to roguetech Pyrohydra hire and barbecue sauce (act today and get free case of aloe vera ointment!) Ruing his missed opportunity, Galactus pantsed Thanos in consolation for leaving the oven on in the Human Torch's bungalow, ruining his bacon stash and five alarm chili in a conflagration of Biblical proportions.

                  Mourning the roasting of their roasted roster, Fred had a plan! Gathering dwarves and a Hobbit to raid the Misty Molehill while Arrowroot, son of Arrowshirt opposed them, chaos ensued within Goodgulf Greyteeth's 3-wheel Winnebago convertible careening off the highway to the Wheel of Time's crossroads guitar duel, disappointing Mr. Miyagi. This naturally sent shock waves through the Cobra Kai community, resulting in asps getting kicked and punched by passing McNinjas and dojo ballerinas who merrily glided through the melee dispensing cookies and cakes to all and sundry celebrating the festivities.

                  Then someone brought a gun cotton firelighter from roguetech and created an indoors fireworks display. That only burned down half of Goodgulf Greyteeth's gin-soaked beard when he got too close to the Roadrunner's high-octane bird feed and lit a roguetech exploding cigar using a leaky blowtorch, causing the antimattre sparklers to ignite the dorsal biaxial hyperwave-reaction generator.

                  Launching perfectly browned toast into the nebulous Nebulon nebula's nebulizer nibbled no bulls, but nobbled its neighbor's niblick and blinked as mashers with mashies mashed, masseurs and Banshees clashed, trashing The Clash's reunion tour at the bottom of the Marianas Market's bargain aisle Thousand Island dressing bottle pyramid.

                  Tragically, Shaggy scarfed the salad before it was ripe, causing his stomach to rumble, making Scooby growl, setting off the motion detectors in Sparko's deepest, darkest bacon vaults and awakening the Kraken's cousin, the Incredible Mr. Limpet, who could stick to the couch -- or rather, conch -- which minded its own business until Moby playing techno and breakbeat tunes so loud they woke Galactus who shouted, "Turn down that racket or so help me, I'll turn this Galaxy around!"

                  Suitably chastened, the Jackson Five asked the Osmond Brothers whether they knew the way to Santa Jose. "Dionne Warwick keeps burning our pizzas." Moved by their plight, Elvis' ghost was all shook up, dislodging his thorny crown so Dylan the Impaler could retrieve it.

                  Hence, the courtroom was adjourned unti more bacon could be liberated from Sparko's "secret" vaults 50 miles below the dragon-infested levees by all the Chevys that weren't quite as dry, because the good ol' boys poured whisky, wine and gasoline since Sparko hoarded the rum for medicinebriational purposes, and pickling himself in since he never bathed, like all Southern Piratists practicing pilates and prancing precariously on pillars of purest pyrite (only fitting for faux pirates).

                  Pirate foes demanding pie rights, pertaining to precariously plotted plans for purloining Prussian potted plants ponderously pondering potential perplexing problems per Plato's philosophical processing path painfully provoking Portuguese pepper pickers to pick Peter Piper's pickles peppering Peloponnesian puppies with pips, prompted Pip to pipe up: "Paper poppies perplex pimply paupers."

                  Screaming incoherently, MelMak PINned™ both -- then meekly gave it back to the Ancient of Afternoons riding the Moose of Manitoba, while Canadian geese and beavers bowed and curtsied in respect to the Lollipop Guild's obvious superiority at rock-paper-scissors-lizard-Spock, as well as 4-dimensional and 3-player chess, astrodynamic Tiddlywinks champions for the last three galactic years.

                  "These modern fancy video games like Pong are too complex for us Munchkin Village rowdy rough guys. We prefer simple pleasures like chainsaw juggling on square-wheeled unicycles, or jousting on T-Rexes along steep and narrow mountain paths above lava-filled ravines while dodging burnt-out Biker Mce from Mars!" Having crashed after 255 pages, MelMak's insurance premium skyrocketed in response to this latest insult to the Archduke of Slovenlyvania's fluffy bunny brigade.

                  "This means war," shouted Yosemite Sam as he drew his pistols, tripping the light fantastic, when he shot himself in the foot when Elmer Fudd bumped into his elbow while dodging a wascally wabbit's attempt to kiss his nose.

                  "You too?" gasped Daffy and Donald in unison, before criticizing each other's speech -- causing Scooby to say "Ruh-roh", as the Swedish chef brandished Hodor's Groot collectible action figure and eloquently philosophized about the Snoopy v. Maggie Simpson debate before the Red Baron intervened with root beer, which Snoopy was allergic to, swelling to parade balloon sized proportions. Macy's immediately launched a blimp swarm while playing Led Zeppelin's "Heartbreaker" on the ukulele and kazoo.

                  The nose flute players were understandably the artistic purists, glowering over being left out since missing Ben Zwycky's birthday bash featuring all three of his chainsaw juggling, unicycle riding buddies from the harshest Patagonian deserts who made a wrong turn at Albuquerque like their hero Roger Ramjet, also known as Rocket Sprocket Docket Pocket Jockey, causing Penelope Pitstop to swoon -- and Peter Perfect swerved to avoid catching her without consent. She awoke with a fractured ego and a bruised bum.

                  "Maybe patriarchy wasn't so bad if it meant being treated like a lady. I declare and decree," intoned Judge Judy, "that bacon is good for me is good for me." Stunned by this glorious insight, Porky Pig went into hiding. Unfortunately, he chose an oven which Bugs Bunny recommended as safe, warm and surprisingly well lit by a red glowing romantic fireplace in the back.

                  The singular naughty swine warned his comrade-in-arms not to trust anyone over 30 years old since pigs don't live that long without roguetech hibernation pods that can double as grills, making Porky extra nervous. "Are y-y-y-you sure it's safe?" he stammered.

                  "Don't be a maroon!" Bugs sneered, as he looked through the spice rack. "Just hand me the cookbook and pour this... lotion... on your skin or else you get a repeat of last week's Scrappy-Doo's recital of Vogon poetry -- but this time in lederhosen!"

                  This produced catcalls from Sylvester, before he slammed into a barn door left open by Tweetie Pie: "Bad Putty Tat!" -- unfortunately, not noticing that Heathcliff was already pouncing at him.

                  Then suddenly, Veggie Tales started -- and Larry's silly song captivated Garfield who wanted the oven reconstructed for additional lasagna capacity after Pinky and the Brain accidentally shrunk it with a thorough scrubbing in boiling water to remove what Pinky thought was the Kraken's Black Spot which was just some Russian microfilm of Groucho and Karl Marx swapping brains for a decade with John Lennon and Lenin, explaining their decision to replace 8-track cassettes with mimes playing "escaping from invisible bear traps while frantically swinging clapperless bells to warn of onrushing trains returning from orbit after they were punched by Popeye for being used by Brutus/Bluto to run over Olive."

                  "No fair!" cried Dudley Do-Right. "I never meant to nuke the city when Snidely Whiplash tied Nell to a new compilation post!"
                  ~ Russell ("MelMak")

                  "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



                  • #10
                    Still continuing the insanity with posts #2649-3410...

                    "It's about time!" squalled the squirrelly Squirrel Square squires, skewing what wanton one-ton wontons wanted despite the despot's deep spite for sprites spitting from spitfires at spirits splitting spit-roasted spiteful spittoons doing spit takes at Pitstop Pete's Pit Stakes and Steak and Shake.

                    "Zoinks!" oinked Owen the Oily Boil, as the oil boiled over the hills and far away. Canuckistan trembled at the thought of the Great Maple Syrup Flood of 1919 recurring once again without engulfing Justin Trudeau in yet more allegations of overly saccharine policies and betraying dancing instructors by dancing around the important issues of the optics of carbon fiber optic espionage of Canadian geese suspected of being stool pigeons singing Christmas carols without a permit or paying the proper taxes.

                    Outraged, Santa girded his loins with lion-shaped girders chaffing against the reindeers' battle armor knitted from vibranium threads by Wakandan ninja squirrel grandmas as mangy pirates tried to steal their depleted uranium knitting needles taken from Darkseid by Brainiac during the Christmas lunch incident at Richochet Rabbit's jamboree and mutating the mince pies into minced word salads causing Cher's implants to melt in sunlight faster than Frosty the Snowman in a sauna.

                    Suitably horrified, Boris Badenov allowed Moose and Squirrel to read his secret recipe for Badenov Stroganoff Surprise (with yellowcake uranium for added flavoring -- taste-tested by Flavor Flav).

                    "It explodes on my tongue!" exclaimed the previously two-headed Ettin.

                    "Perfect for Hydra infestations" claimed S.H.I.E.L.D.'s one-eyed Nick Fury to Roger Rabbit, his new consultant on permeating previously impervious pusses with new eyewear! (Discounts apply.)

                    "I'm Batman," groused Batman under threat of cuddles from Catgirl.

                    "You assumed gender!" screamed Dreamer, as a gander pecked his speckled spritzer sprinkler, spilling special sales asplay.

                    Away and across the sea, Cecil seethed, seemingly seamless as he sewed his sewer suit suing Sue so smoothly, she thought he was cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs since they were stuck to his face in the shape of a shrubbery that the Knights of Ni dragged him through during the Lilliputian sponsored rave on the head of a PIN™ graciously provided by mossy after squishing Rogue with it for being too suave and debonair in his own mind. Miraculously, the wimmenfolk agreed with him after he drugged them with truth serum.

                    Meanwhile, Mother Goose was cooked in Porky's apartment at Angel Beach shake shack as she mistook a barbecue for a hot tub minus the water, bubbles and bathing beauties meaning her goose was cooked and all of Fairyland mourned and gathered the Dragon Balls to reignite the flame of desire for Duck A L'Orange at Fawlty Towers.

                    Indignantly, Basil seasoned with oregano rather than complain about the lack of rosemary and chives after Manuel set fire to the kitchen mistaking vodka for water and sticks of dynamite for candles making a perfect roguetech quality control officer, hence the burned-off eyebrows and artificial skin grafts, peg leg and eyepatch.

                    "Hey, I think he's Sparko!" said Pinky, guarding his rum with a toy poodle named Mr. McFluffins, scourge of the field mice in the meadow of Shadow (and Ludo dojos, where the Foot clan were afraid to stand on Legos unless they're in high heels) in which case metal grilles are their nemeses.

                    Ramses cackled, as Derrick's derelict dirigible failed to avoid crashing into the dangling participials left unintentionally unattended by the Grammar Nazi Luftwaffe Generaloberst Waldo Stroopwafel, known for guillotining grunters of garbled gerunds for making deliberate illiterate alliterations and literally littering linguistics with Limburger and linguine landmarks which stunk like a skunk.

                    Hunky punk "Uncle" Duncan McGunk clunked junked trunk on his bunk banking on the clanking tankards masking the stealthy approach of the tap-dancing elephant herd for Hellen Keller's birthday party aboard the S.S. Minnow as the Purple People Eaters invaded Pepperland with the Blue Meanies, Green Grouches, White Whiners, Mauve Four-Headed Bulldogs and Storm Bloopers who tripped over their own sentence fragments and misplaced commas headfirst into an angry crowd with a thick German accent: "Vatch your schtepp you dumkopf!"

                    This caused studdles to strut proudly from the rafters to the foundation footings and through a can-do attitude, and plenty of moxie and Pepsi, stayed awake all night playing Spin the Bottle with the friendly facehuggers from planet X-4036G and not those clingy face-huggers from planet X-4036F, who just loathe their kin from A6-454 for being too soft and publicity hounds seeking fame and fortune for their comedic talents of imitating jack-in-the-boxes and yodeling through recently ventilated chest cavities with toothy grins and giggles that could charm an eldritch witch into watching which of her car's scritches of itches amused the mewling mobs of malodorous meercats meandering more morosely over Melody's marvelous music.

                    Mellowly, Mossrose made musical maps, meaning very verbose violinists vindictively vied for first fiddle fame and the timpani tuners tediously tried to fiddle with the fiddle of Styx.

                    Melody groaned. But unfortuantely, the run-on sentences continued unabated, and without a hint of Charon at the three crossings of the Delaware (they forgot the tippy canoe at Tippecanoe and got their sandwiches wet), Melody groaned further.

                    "Alas! She turned me into a newt!" Sparko paused. "I got better," before slithering off into the fire swamp gift shop run by rodents of unusual sartorial tastes: a black eyepatch which was soaked by Thirsty the Possum in his personal stash of rum substitute (otherwise old lao boot wetter '99 and favourite "flavor enhancer" of highly questionable ingredients and preparation H - ghost pepper edition, causing "pucker factor" to take on a new depth of meaning making it a WMD without roguetech's patented Pirate Pant Protector and deluxe fly fishing reel of caesium thread for those casting through holes in ice for extra warmth and explosions roguetech style™.

                    Needless to say, the depleted uranium fishing weights were often mistaken for extremely loud popping candy by hungry hungry hippos grimly determined to get to their soft centres in just one bite.

                    Thereafter missing a few teeth, the aforementioned hungry, hungry hippos opted for pureed apple at the annual family reunion cookout held at the roguetech kindergarten and artillery range, formerly used by Sparko for his chainsaw dentistry clinic masquerading as a home for abandoned velociraptors, T-rexes and vermicious vermin that infest his armpits to get rid of the lice that grew to enormous size and threaten to spill the beans as to where his 4000 emergency rum supply and bacon vaults were located.

                    An NSA brigade was deployed to make a video record of the battle between the vermin and Sparko's unnatural "musk" known as Penetrating Pure Pirate Pong, banned by the Geneva Convention for melting a million skunks with his breath and millions more with gaseous emissions from his "pits of doom" under his arms, encrusted with ancient barnacle-like crustaceans capable of surviving in that noxious atmosphere, using grotesque techniques better left unimagined and not repeatedly reenacted by hand puppets and masticating marionettes of the Uwe Boll theatrical micro-budget movies and micro-breweries featuring Tim the Enchanter's Flea Circus doing silly walks while eating egg, bacon, baked beans, spam, spam, spam, and spam with sauteed shallots and live lobster -- but no bacon for you after the incident with the blind tambourine and ukelele playing velociraptor dance troupe and rocket-propelled hand operated egg beaters and wisdom tooth extractor chainsaws.

                    Typically, Melody faints at such things.

                    Preferring jack hammer tooth extraction methods, Tess declared, "Bring it on!" providing evidence that she was actually a Transformer masquerading as Go-Bot guardian command center all-you-can-eat contest participation trophy.

                    Clearly Scooby and Shaggy would've won if it wasn't for the entry fee being stolen by a wascally wabbit disguised as as dastardly duck with a humungus hump and a limp, and is called Quackymodo by Dr. Fronkensteen III, revenge of Eye-gor Jr. because he can lick his own elbow without either dislocating his arm or his spine, but instead simply removed his prosthetic arm.

                    Meanwhile, neanderthals linked their pinkies in unity with the Denisovans to summon their pet Balrog, Jim, who was ironically afraid of Caption Janeway's throne of skulls. "Macramé scares me," Jim shuddered. "Strings shouldn't touch! It's unnatural!" the Balrog muttered to himself. "Let's play something relaxing, like Motley Crue's 'Louder Than Hell' on the seven-bladed electric kazoo with glass harmonica and musical RPGs and Project Thor as percussion to accompany the velociraptor jugglers over by the refreshments table laden with caramelized pigs' feet, baseball bat-sized turkey drumsticks and a mountain of bacon-wrapped shrimp that, coincidentally, never actually made it to The Blue Shovel™."

                    A "buck a scoopful" menu graced the table of Mister J. Wellington Wimpy, hamburger aficionado who'll gladly pay them Tuesday for hamburger today, enraging the local fast food establishment.

                    Summoning his allies with the Lollipop Guild and organized morons of the "shoot them politely" philosophy and credo, having abandoned sternly worded letters as ineffective invectives, he moved on to throughtful and well-mannered light maiming with only a wee bit of thermonuclear toasting. Luckily for the rats and roaches, levels of radiation dropped to Chernobyl Nursery School certified acceptable by Lowest Bidder Safety Checks, Inc. -- a subsidiary of Roguetech Safety which has nothing to do.

                    Therefore, it opted for chocolate igloos for the Canuckistani market with central flamethrower heating, causing indoor marshmallow toasting to become the hot new trend for all the cool Canuckistani kids who want to save time so they can get back to gnawing on hockey sticks used to club baby seals with frozen maple syrup pucks melted to celebrate the culling of 3D models.

                    Graphically speaking, I'm nothing without you. You need the best display driver! Or, any driver will do. Slow ones need the fast ones and the living need more bacon. This is just further proof that everybody needs somebody sometime. Even when the Gods of the Copybook Headings can't smile without you, the peanut gallery laughs at you.

                    Now the end is near to the beginning of the time when the fat lady warms up her mighty voice before letting a copious amount of gastric gasses erupt forth allowing her produce notes so low even whales can't fathom their meaning or even dance to, thoroughly disappointing the mariachi mollusks who came solely to watch waltzing whales wipe out the bad words written on the floor in ketchup and secret sauce (for encryption), intriguing the Swedish Chef who couldn't deactivate his encoding algorithm, having left the password in a bacon-scented adamantium vault, which was secured with a cheap and rusty padlock from the roguetech discount bin.

                    It is trapped in the vice-like grip of OBP's steely tusks (which are available with a wide selection of scents and colors since the supplier was acquired by Thirsty Possum's cousin Starvin' Marvin who was busy carving out a name for hisself as a hip hop lyricist in the Cool Jazz market and the Hot Polka Scene known for beer barrel frivolity and barbecue bacon frugality when people are watching), but when hippos burst in as planned then all bets are off since gambling is a sin.

                    Meanwhile, in the hot pot foxtrot bot plot, otherwise known as Melvin by all but Bruno, MacDonald Hall was bustling the wall behind the garden over a black away from the Roguetech thermonuclear diaper incinerator and S'more machine™ designed by Venkman, Spengler, Stanz and Zeddemore while under the influence of high voltage plasma arc ozone infused rum and gasoline cocktails and lysergic acid diethylamide. Soaked olives with 56-ounce steaks marinated in boiling Dom Pérignon seasoned with nitro and vodka were greedily consumed by the hordes hungrily hurrying hither.

                    "Hastily help!" he helpless hiccuped. Hyperventilating "Hairy", horrendously heaving heaping helpings hurriedly over to the snack bar where purloined pandas pinched putrid quinces quickly quipping quite queer questions reflecting ruminations regarding rudimentary readings of "Wreckless Alliterations" by Sir Steven Simon Simmons, Esquire, known now for no-nonsense knowledge, had joined the infamously brash Buckaroo Banzai as he traveled across the 8th dimension to Milliways for Aldebaran liqueur with Han Solo who had just paired off with a trio of people who couldn't count on the tallyman to properly prepare puppy poop bag poppers for prominent placement on porches -- and so, the Galactic Empire withdrew into an obscure corner calling "Her, kitty, kitty, kitty..." into his left shoe which was two sizes too small.

                    This was when Dr. Zoidberg answered the question of why kitty foot odor is a cure for unwanted nasal hair among the didgeridoo wielders of the Coalition Against Vuvuzelas, a.k.a. The CAVemen of Castle Cacophonia, who keep a pet banshee to scream relaxing Vogon poetry at Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council members on their way to Sussex's Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings coronation as the Unspeakable Queen of Hearts revealed her new spiked golf club for that, so nobody notices the guillotine in the clubhouse doorway.

                    Unfortunately, it was Pinocchio who stuck the hairpin into the socket after Wilma Flintstone told him he was the love child of Groot and Elastigirl.

                    Shocked, since the Cookie Monster always calls in an air strike when Quacula pilfers the absconded chocolate chip grenades and crunchy peanut butter flavored laxatives favored by ferengi pranksters everywhere, "Nog!" shouted Greedo, hoisting his eggnog a little too high, spilling the contents on a Tribble lobbying for more snuggle time.

                    The resultant Tribble baby boom was not an unforseen consequence of the "It's so Fluffy!" movement which started in the "Summer of Liking Someone Enough to Not Steal Their Coat" which came too late for the launching of Major Tom who was floating in his ethersphere waiting for the phlogiston from Captain Janeway's skull-throne, where she met the Heterodyne she got on sale from Wal-Mart, 50 for only $10 which was half off the usual price of your firstborn yak's first haircut at "Chainsaw Clip 'N' Curl" which is a subsidiary of roguetech although far too focused on safety, like the wimps they are.

                    In order to regain respect, they gargled razor blades while juggling radioactive porpupines and riding turtles all the way down the giant mine train from Hogwarts.

                    All of this commotion gave Cthulu a headache, and that lead to the evacuation of the velociraptor pen in from the nursery school's basement into the piranha petting zoo which proved fortuitous when the 86th OSHA inspector got eaten by the 87th OSHA inspector who was, in actuality, a T-rex in a squirrel suit, which was a tight fit -- but he pulled it off, thanks to his chiseled abs which were made with real chisels.

                    His stomach turning, the result of smelling tofu nearby, Ivan fainted. Still standing, Tess wondered why she'd been forgotten in the race to the combination septic truck taco stand and pet wash emporium owned by Sparkco as a tax dodge that the IRS wouldn't acknowledge. Her inattention cost her a coupon for a free surgery at her mother's hands.

                    Unexpectantly, Fred and Daphne dropped the Scooby snack that Shaggy had bronzed causing it to weigh more than fifty of Saturn's moon, pulling them all into a conga line led by the sombrero wearing socialite J. Edgar Hoover, who arrested the puppet Lambchop for unlawful cuteness which Sherri was forced to admit was more than he could handle while driving N Cryin's tour bus past roguetech's latest theme park and rabid animal petting zoo while the cages were upgraded to balsa wood from tissue paper while the resident safety officer was busy escorting the few, the proud, the brave, the maimed for life and the roguetech clients that mutated into interdimensional AI paint which covered Sparko's pirate ship (The Guppy) which roguetech hacked into and replaced most of the crew of the starship Voyager with squirrels in "human suits" drastically improving crew performance.

                    Suspicious, Hans Solo abandoned the Nostromo taking its "awesome omelet ingredients" -- a.k.a. illicit Romulan Ale spiked with xenomorph yolk sacs and metahuman glandular fluid as a chaser.

                    Suitably intrigued, Gordon Ramsay challenged Emeril Lagasse to tiddiwinks, with the winner being declared the annual Heifong Space Race Pineapple Pepper Pop Prince for the Super Bowl Halftime show, and the loser getting fed pineapple pepper pop.

                    "Disgusting!" exclaimed Helen Lovejoy. "Won't someone please think of the children!" in the most annoying shriek imaginable, except when Bill the Cat got his tail caught in the door of Miley Cyrus' treehouse / depleted uranium storage facility, that was really a front for a gang of nefarious unsanctioned badminton aficionados known for stepping on the cracks in sidewalks hence rupturing space-time continuums across the multiverse, which annoyed Melody.

                    "Pride factor begone!" she said, dressed as Sailor Moon's werewolf ninja cousin. "Humility is highly underrated!" Then, she proceeded to manipulate time, space and the price of Egg McMuffins in Eritrea.

                    "Zimbabwe dollars only!" shouted Fred, needing toilet paper for his pet gru, Gwendoline, who pined for her twin Guinevere and spent her days drinking cheap liquor at fancy restaurants in the hope that she would be discovered by talent scouts from Galactic Cluster XQ47B, looking for the next nose-flute playing albino sumo wrestler pin-up of the month, since Cuddles, the man-eating half bear needed regular snacks to avoid sugar withdrawl induced hallucinations of being nibbled by cyborg ducks and robotic geese with lisps and wisps of golden hair stuck between their rotting teeth after failed attempts at flossing with feathers from cyborg ducks leading to the infamous Plucking far from the Alpha Quadrant of the universe's largest pizza parlor and shoe repair consortium Papa Gepetto's Pizza Pump Parlor where you wear your food, and shoe leather crusts are stuffed with the cheesiest fungus (stuffed portabella mushroom caps) found between the toes of giant pygmy elephants native to Balnibarbi and Ken's Oversize Emporium, which just opened an office there.

                    The opening ceremony also featured 76 trombones leading a big sentient doughnut that evolved from the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man's faithful sidekick and occasional snack Little Debbie. This led to the Office of Unfair Trading Trick or Treaty territorial treaties tasking the Tenatious Tactical Teutonic Twins, Tauberbischofsheim's Teo and Theo Twiddle to turn the train towards the Timbuktoo-Tallahassee Turnpike taking thousands of tone-deaf tourists to treat themselves to the Tallassee to Tennessee talent tour training tenacious terriers to track Tiny Tim tiptoeing through tulips with Two Lips Toulouse, the Titan of Toledo's turkey trot tournament, tasting terrible tuna tortellini tacos.

                    This troubled Tina tremendously trudging tenaciously through tepid tapioca to Timid Tom, the torrid toddler tarantula trainer, taking tea time trips to the toilet to tape tentacled teamsters to twerking Transylvanian tragic travesties to temper their terrible tantrums, though trying toasted turkey tempora tended to trigger terrible tonsilitis, turning terrifying telemarketers into timid tardigrades.

                    Slamming her fist down, Aunt Cora belched the national anthem of Ruritania in honor of the Snark's upcoming wedding to the Snipe. Invitations were sent via carrier pterodactyl, which doubled as darts for the Cyclops twins, Hazel and Amber, as they had their eye on the upcoming Abominations Cup final against spandex-wearing Bill and Hillary who would horrify the crowd simply by appearing.

                    Now disqualified, they decided to hire themselves scary clowns until somebody noted the unusually high suicide rate among the Oompa Loompa's hated opponents, vermicious new knids on the block who issued a blanket challenge to Linus Van Pelt.

                    Courageously, Linus leapt through the flames of coloured paper on the one condition that the Great Stupendo stop hitting himself with a fresh mackerel wearing diamante earrings and a delightful cubic zirconia and rhinestone necklace, which got in the way of the crushed velvet jogging suit that got tangled in the thorns of other optional opioid on the Golden Graham of Daventry!

                    At another anthill, an aspect ratio was decimated. Sullenly, Alex Trebek got choked up after everyone eating Easter eggs expelled a McDonald's Happy Meal including his favourite toy of all: a miniature Vorlon Planet Killer that could only destroy cities on flame with rock & roll.

                    The Nation of Jazz invaded the Earth Nation during tea, so Uncle Iroh was forced, except egregiously emitting enough ethanol to exfoliate every ent encountered along the way to the famous Fréjus, France Ferris Wheel fabulously festooned with frolicking frogs that betrayed no inclination to consume French peasant legs or croak out "La Marseillaise" after being infiltrated by frogmen who were actually SEALs looking for Canadian seal clubbers on holiday at the nearby club, the Sea-Lake Ceiling C Lounge outside Cut And Shoot, Texas.

                    They exchanged the customary greetings of exfoliating the dead skin off their hunting trophies with miniscule Brillo Pads in the shape of their least favourite member of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, Elmer Fudd's twin brother Elmo, and sang Springsteen's song "Fire" while triggering bizarre plasma discharges by rubbing Bugs and Daffy up the wrong way with the Golden Graham of Daventry!

                    Suitably sated with nutritious nuclear suppositories, Mogo, sentient planet and moon, granted three wishes to the Queen of Hearts, which she used to find the tart-jacker who stole her limited edition gooseberry flan with goose-stepping geese gingerly goosing gals who guessed which goose passed grandma Gertie's garters and glasses hurling her hat heavenwards.

                    "Help!" Penelope Pitstop pitifully plead. "Please rescue Rufus Ruffcut's raccoon-ravaging roomie Quirky Queen Quin Quisling, quickly sizzling sirloin steaks since Simon met a pieman going to jump off a bridge to the troubled waters below your belt." Belching out a tune, the pieman serenaded the manatee singing "Que Sera, Sera" accompanied by the National Armpit Orchestra of San Lorenzo who had showered just last decade for no good reason, thus upsetting the ecosystem harmonics of their flatulent friends.

                    The Oompa Loompas, trumpeting command performance, tragically asphyxiated the dwarves of Moria before they could call off their foosball competition with the Balrog whose skin rash flared up due to an allergic reaction to the secret ingredient in Ma Beagle's Strawberry Grenade Cobbler which she filched from Mother Goose when she was distracted by the ugly duckling's swan dive into the crowd at the mocha mosh pit in the Starbucks Star Search Season of Dancing With the Stars with Trixie the top-dancing hippo and her famous tantrum about Rhetta Rhino horning in on beloved gentleman hero and adventurer Horton the Elephant's egg babysitting business (since her commission was peanuts -- delivered in trunks).

                    "Why didn't Tweety Bird warn me?" mused Heckle and Jeckle as they interviewed Dr. Jekyll about Woody Woodpecker and Tennessee Tuxedo's suspiciously scented songbook, entitled "Things Best Left Unsmelled" by Sniffy McStink, poet laureate of the Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings Memoriam Society and Lead Alto Screecher extraordinaire, as well as hydrolauphone therapist and rocket surgeon at Buckaroo Banzai's Hong Kong Cavalier's Global Liberation Battery, in orbit in an old spice smuggling station, roller disco, ostrich farm and wicked cool Calvinball Stadium which was unfortunately vulnerable to Susie Derkin's cooties, causing a seer to run for the Mines of Moria, having forgotten to compile the latest entries in the Book of Love.

                    And then he finally remembered.
                    ~ Russell ("MelMak")

                    "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



                    • #11
                      I've fallen behind with the compilation posts for well over a year, so I've got my work cut out for me attempting to catch up. That said, I'm going to split up everything new into more than one post and put them up as I have time.

                      This time around, here's the contents of posts #3411-3618 including the longest lament in history over a toilet paper outage.

                      That he left the oven-baked artillery shells on roast in the double-barreled broiler and freezer was a travesty. Fragments of fractals were used to frag Fraggle School of Rock which Fred Flintstone found flagrantly lacking in barbecued brontosaurus ribs, cactus juice and Fruity Pebbles -- so upsetting Bam-Bam that he changed his name to Boom-Boom and began using a Roguetech-designed thermonuclear club that evolved from a frozen canteloupe stored in a secure shoebox stashed in Roguetech's Special Chemicals Locker, otherwise known as the Girl's Sock Drawer and Reptile Hatchery stashed deep down in the xenomorph hive's broom closet on a Yautja Prime blood-pig farm run by Shelob's twin sister Ungoliant, wielder of the pastries of Melkor's Mount Doom Bakery and Muffler Shop.

                      Suddenly a Nazgul dropped his sun screen when a bikini-clad Baba Yaga escorted by Imhotep's faithful servant Onibaba, the Demon Hag, after the Medusa's optometrist lost a Cyclops' reading glasses when she was playing poker with a fireplace. Trogdor was mighty pleased. The burninated villagers less so.

                      "Alas! Poor Trogdor!" cried Yorrick. "I knew him newly made of vibranium thread toilet paper with eyes wide shut because they saw what cannot be unseen without having roguetech eye bleach injected into your brain stem."

                      "That's what mind bleach is for," said Rogue, dunking another delightful glazed donut into the mercury from the missing thermometer that MelMak had mistaken for the T-1000 nursery and funhouse (putting the fun into funerals and the laughter into slaughter).

                      Fred and Daphne especially enjoyed Niles' consternation over the short ingredient list of muffin bottoms while Frasier rolled his eyes when Eddie buried Norm's stool softener pills.

                      "Alas!" he cried. "Someone stole the toilet paper and we'll have to remortgage Hillary's 'Scooby van' for salsa and hot sauce to replace nitroglycerin-loaded suppositories dispensed by rocket-assisted trebuchet (far more user-friendly than spleen-fueled catapults, whip-powered ballista nose hair clippers or horse-drawn and quartered paint-by-numbers whirligigs and swirling figs for curing pigs forcing the Green Lantern Corps to talk to their therapists, the brain-devouring Illithids vacationing on a raft on Tidbury Creek where the Balrogs danced merrily, singing a death metal lullaby accompanied by vuvuzela-playing banshees to add some delicate artistry to the intergalactic pie-eating contest that sparked civil war (that was anything but civil) among the Smurf overlords of New Snork City, Snorkland Province, Connecticut (right next to Podunk Hollow, famous for their rocket-propelled chainsaw rickshaw taxis and snipe-flavored chow mein with curry-enhanced leaf blowers to generate sufficient wind velocity to wind-up Wendy's clockwork squirrel launcher, to enable the hover dog air corp."

                      To liberate Krasnovia from Pinelandian despots determinedly disposing deposited descendants, Daily Dairy Doily Diary dowries essential expecting early extra effort for foxy ferrets to further gather garnets for gruff goats hauling huge heavy hemp harnesses into ignoble igloos intermittently irrigated with jerrycans of juicy jelly.

                      Klondike Kat's Kentucky kin's kerfluffle lost Lucy "Lightning" Lane loads mangling my marmalade motown mixer now nefarious newsmen never need obvious obscure obits on Orville preferring to preach pretentious piffle instead.

                      While grating a lemon, Lemony Snicket graded Sourpuss' surplus sarsparilla station stash as smashingly simple steam-driven synchronized scroll saws sent Steven Strange skywards, somersaulting through Tropospheric turbulence toward twin terrifying towering tornadoes teetering to-and-fro under undulating depleted uranium umbrellas the double-dealing Dick Dastardly denied, dusting down with dental detergent underneath umbrage unbalanced urchins unknowingly vehementing vexing viscious Venusian voles which wound up worrying Wendy who wearily wrapped wanton Willie Wonka Wurlitzer Wagon Wheels with xenophobic Xiaolin Xavier's Xanaduvian xylophone's X-rated Yellowstone Yak yarn yearbook.

                      Yodeling "Yikes!" Yolanda Youngblood yearned zealously, for zero zebra-zoned zambonis were all actively and anxiously attended by Bavarian barbarians bearing Rhababerbarbarabarbarbarenbartbarbierbier with their rhubarb. Snoopy sighed, slinking sullenly southwards since Samwise refused to share his potatoes, and Gollum's reaction to lembas and hummus with a cup of vegmite ice cream was summarily upended when the delegation of tea leaves got steamed.

                      The dark and stormy knight threw yet another tantrum after Penelope Pitstop snubbed his proposal to open an Arby's in Frostbite Falls, Minnesota where Ethel the Aardvark goes quantity equation economics while pricing Q-Tips at two strips of latinum-plated gold (redeemable for two holosuite bookings) per metric tonne.

                      Using her head, Valanice solved Doofenshmirtz's First and Last Theorem the first and last time he opened a portal to the Twilight Zone's Outer Limits. But unwittingly, Valanice lost her way shortly after leaving Kolyma to persue a career in adventure game design, along with applied military poetry and dance along with underwater basket weaving.

                      Prideful perverts perishing painfully proceed to alliterate themselves to death mercilessly, mainly on the plain in Spain in the rain with Shane "Insane Gains" Crane, bane of Jane Lane's train crane.

                      "Lame, Shane. Arcane Chains," exclaimed Blaine, blaming famed gamester Wayne "Campaign" Defontaine for detaining the pain of power outages. "Outrageous wages for salacious sages and mages aged in cages with enraged pages engaged in staged gauges to upstage Paige Greengage's Sage Bacteriophage Rage Page!" causing MelMak's head to explode.

                      "Categorically catalog the catastrophic catastrophies of cantering antelopes with canteloupes," caterwauled antagonistic anteaters anticipating antipasti antes in pantry poker games. "Poking games is forbidden," scolded Pokey Pokestein for obvious reasons.

                      Anchovy-infested pizza rolls are multiplying thanks to pineapples on pizza attracting man-eating anchovy swarms that caused the Lancastrian Singing Ringing Tree to rethink its existential philosophy and take up miming instead.

                      This outraged MIME (the Minstry of Mediocre Elephants), whose inferiority complexes were deemed too simple by Simple Simon's pieman the Pied Orthodonist and Gastrointestinal Psychoanalyst, who, oblivious to obvious observations, obfuscates e-mail addresses as useless to overly odious overtures of ontological visitors vexing vacationing Venusian vermin vying very viciously for verified vivacious vixens vaulting vaunting voles via vibranium velocipedes veering vastly away from MelMak's useless e-mail.

                      "Install a honeypot!" he cried to Honey Potts, the Russian honeypot from the Hun Knee Plot to corner the round market in hypoallergenic angling equipment.

                      "Keep on Truckin'," he archaically intoned, as did the great philosopher Jerry Garcia while tripping on psychedelic venom from the Hypnotoad that Frye thought was a fruit smoothie that Leela had mixed up in the Bender-style blender that sent her on a mystical journey through a long tutorial of Blender.

                      Still more to come!
                      ~ Russell ("MelMak")

                      "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



                      • #12
                        Posts #3619-3770...

                        They then went to Narnia. Mr. Tumnus didn't appreciate the smoothies since they contained bits of talking ants that had become antithetical to Aunt Teefa's Antifungal Antifreeze and antidote to the Antarctican antagonist, Anthony Antacid, antler alterer to the stars. Suddenly scores of samurai swarmed the shimmering shawarma showroom, swinging into George of the Jungle.

                        "Watch out for that tree!" Shaggy warned Scooby, before he fell off the cliff into the perilous Pits of Perfidy piled with plush pillows of purple parakeet plumage pitilessly plucked prior to parboiling potential primadonnas predictably practicing prancing past poodles pilfering pearlescent parodies of Precious Pup's priceless, precocious sniggering snicker snack symphony, synchronizing sullen strings stolen by that copycat Muttley after gorging himself on inflatable Dick Dastardly decoy dirigibles designed to infiltrate the deepest, darkest chocolate made -- no -- even imagined.

                        The virtual machine disagreed, crashing headlong into Willy Wonka's Chocolate Memory Chip. The resulting cookies caught Cookie Monster's ravenous attention causing Mr. Rogers to blindside him with a slice of Humble Pie's "Stone Cold Fever" on the electric bagpipes and skateboard-powered mandolins backpacked in by ambidextrous pygmy elephant impersonators from Brobdingnagian stowaways aboard the Spindrift Spanish Inquisition that no one expected.

                        With comfy chairs cozier than William "Cuddles" McCosy, President of "Cuddle McCosy's Curious Comfy Chair Consortium" commenced in commercial commerce of Queenie's quintessential quixotic questions querying questionably quixotic quorum quotas to quintessentially quarrelsome quadricentennial quartermasters who quickly quashed Quebecois Quiche quail quesadilla quarantined since February for exposure to Xenomorph Banjo strumming secretaries secretly secreted so subtly that Superman's super senses obviating obvious observations obfuscating oblivion perceived a painfully perplexing paucity of marshmallows in Lucky Charms and marshy shallows on Kentucky Blue Grass during the Derby Day Ostentatious Oriental Ocelot Parade prepared by primpling pregnant poodles. "Prepare the purple pippette popper!"

                        Mount Cardassia's peak glistened. Dazzled, their eyes tangled together in an ocular wrestling match that blinded the participants to the ludicrosity of the narrator's description -- causing Uncle Jed and Granny to discombobulate Rogue's pet T-Rex, Elvis, enraged over mandatory push-ups, really got his teeth into the cement pond's rubber ducky -- and Bert and Ernie vowed vigorously, via venal villains, to motivate their answers. "Go, answers!"

                        Coaxing coquettish commas to cheer their conquering compatriot colon's colonoscopy carefully conducted by coke-crazed Coelacenths caused catastrophic containment collapse of caterwauling coconuts who constantly complain about Manuel's manual on manual manipulation near Janeway's throne of skulls, most of which came from copious clones of Harry Kim through successful subspace spatial scission of said subordinate's suffering synapses jamming Janeway's Jersey Shore signal to the relief of all the catgirls held hostage by Tuvix on Cardassia who were unharmed due to R2D2's voodoo which witty witches from Wichita watched on pay-per-view crystal ball casts the coven constantly coveted due to dubiously diligent dodo directors deviously delaying devote devotees doing detestable dances.

                        Data liked Denobulan lullabies over Vogon poetry since their rhymes didn't always make suicide rates to skyrocket to become mass extinction events.

                        Fortunately, the Swinetrek's crew sacrificed themselves to provide endless crispy bacon to Bene Gesserit Reverend Mothers, a subsidiary of Roguetech Daycare and Cheap Labor Rental Service, who were hired to officiate the Quidditch and Roller Derby events of the Arcane Pentathlon and Chili Cook-off sponsored by BLZ Bubba and Associates, specialists in infernal redneck deviled ham concoctions.

                        Saruman was disqualified for fielding Hobbit pastry puffs without actual taters in them, causing Samwise and Samdumb (the "Tater Tots") to sing a rousing chorus of "One Potato, Two Potato" in almost two-part harmony.

                        Frodo, flirting with Bellatrix Lestrange, caused an international incident with Latveria after the Thor Corps mistook Dr. von Doom's castle courtyard for a Marriot Courtyard in which their nemesis was partying at like it was 1999 and spilled coffee all over Moonbase Alpha's Superman action figures shorting out the hidden microphone in Gomez Addams' moustache when he danced a passionate flamenco accompanied by the Pevensie siblings which Reepicheep mistook for a bag of Cheetos after imbibing too much mead.

                        "En guard!" cried Puss in Boots, raising a frozen asparagus instead of a light saber he borrowed to cook the bacon before Mickey Mouse gave it all to Cow Poke because he was donating it to Charity Churchmouse.

                        "Eww, bacon!" she cried, when Miss Piggy and Babe's spaceship crash-landed into the Death Star orbiting Arrakis while picking up hitchhikers carrying guide books and towels and a line of Vogon conga dancers wearing Godzilla-themed underwear while reciting their favorite zingers from Harry Potter movie outtakes, accidentally summoning a patronus shaped like Patron Silver Tequila bottles, luring Rogue from his favorite pastime of heckling mossy.

                        More coming yet; will take a while.
                        ~ Russell ("MelMak")

                        "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



                        • #13
                          Posts #3771-4000...

                          Then an explosion came from the underside of bacon vault PKS 2014-55 after Sparko discovered it emptied and licked clean by NSA agent "Harold the Herald" when he thought no one was looking since everyone else was searching through for a horse with no name, but after nine days he still didn't know where Hotel California could be since he left his map in Babylon 5's stolen holodeck that Bester used to train tribbles to form conga lines that would around the block of cheese that Flash Gordon left for the giant rodents that Westley and Buttercup fought Vizzini for in a rhyming game that involved copious amounts of rum and bacon which naturally pair together like fine Finnish fingers finished finding financial fins flapping flippantly for forty theives known as Day Winkers.

                          As they gyrated surreptitiously towards Thieves' World's Sanctuary, Shadowspawn lost his shadowboxing bout with Peewee Herman who kept yelling "I meant to do that," while sticking his tongue out to get pierced by a hail of cocktail sticks that were hidden under the garbage left from Han Solo's bachelor party held high in the Nightosphere where the sick freaks were frying floppy bacon and ignoring the deliciosity of crispiness which, since the war, has just not been the same.

                          As Jed often pointed out, when Elly May's critters snatched his flock of prototype spiderpigs by the cement pond and dragged them down into the Hobbit Hole, that Carrot Ironfoundersson had tried to reconstruct it out of scraps from the USS Palomino after its "mostly peaceful" jaunt along the Klingon-Wookie border to pick up some doughnuts from that little Dalek bakery in Betelgeuse's lovely Latin Quarter known for its Romulan Ale smugglers and hula hoop assassins working for Tleilaxian Face Dancers and morale saboteurs.

                          Taking up knitting after World War Z, Heinz Doofenshmirtz developed the Knitinator fueled with Mordorian Scooby Snacks inscribed with beautiful calligraphy: "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest."

                          One laid her eggs there until Samwise Gamgee made omelets and fried up some crispy pre-war bacon, attracting hordes of Hungry, Hungry Hippos banned by the Geneva Convention for their uttering "The Delporable Word" in Esperanto instead of Klingon, losing the parcheesi tournament to mice dressed as squirrels, who ruled the third branching on Yggdrasil with an iron twig.

                          Rebelling against Ratatoskr, Rama granted Mikew his dire bear form again after issuing a dire warning to never dye his hair orange, especially neon orange which to the Ferengi means that you're clumsy with sacred paint-by-numbers kits that Spider-Man personally autographed when he stole Goku's senzu beans so triggering World War 3.11, 32-bit which melted the dual-quad-hyperthreaded-overclocked-water-cooled-gold-contact-superconductive-flatulated-processor, causing a brownout across the tri-state run triangle overseen by Renfield's Natural Gas and Feed Store, open 24/7 except at night with FREE BEER tomorrow, and YESTERDAY but never TODAY or ANY day ending in "day."

                          Causing Danger Mouse to abandon all hope, he turned to intense curling matches that could curl the lip of a marble cake loving vampiric Lost Boy with type 2 diabetes and space herpes from ice, pirating Dilithium crystals available only at Starvin' Marvin's Five and Dime Barber Shop and Oil Change, roguetech's labs and bait shop's most brilliant idea executed flawflessly.

                          The dark knight, Stormy Daniels, showed up once again soliciting, or being solicited, for teeth-whitening commercials, to be sold to various other predators indicted for their run-on sentences that never seemed to end going on and on forever until the end of the "Infinity and Beyond" Neverland Tour which, oddly, has a sequel called The NeverEnding Story starring Keith Richards and Betty White, while making the Kessel Run look like a turtle race.

                          In other news, Flash Gordon interrupted Ming the Merciless' wedding to Penelope Pitstop's nephew's niece and stopped.

                          Beating up strangers is bad PR, but Great Danes began channel surfing but drowned when an unexpected Cartoon Network Toonami combined with an avalanche of apple pies, Syfy Channel's Zombie Tidal Wave and the typical seasonal sharknado seasoning.

                          Henceforth, Hans Forth IV hands four thorium ham forks to Handy Force's Fourth Formation For Formidable Forititude (and snack packs) for Thurston Thursday III The Thirstiest Thimble Thrower in thirty miles from Thurgood's Thermos Thaumaturgy Thrift Store and thoracic thermometers.

                          This in turn triggered the startup of the thermonuclear barbecue lighter, developed by roguetech, to grill whole herds of tasty meat on the hoof while simultaneously charring some wonderful Texas sage.

                          Brush and grasslands are the worst possible asymptotic analogous analysis, annually annulled in Andalusian articulated awning audits after Bugs Bunny swindled Captain Nemo out of his favorite gummy bear sculpture "Ooey Gooey Godzilla Meets Molasses Mothra's Mother."

                          Confused, Mr. T pitied the fool who didn't drink milk straight from the bottle/container but instead used a paper straw which then got soggy after the bottle was half empty, leaving the bacon to get crispy, but not as much as Biden's E.O.s have burned America, hopefully fueling an uprising in the hairs on his legs which he was shaving because they were getting in the intake manifolds causing uneven pyrolysis, resulting in a catastrophic fouling of the experimental supercharger disrupting integrated phased voltage-controlled-attenuator arrays and overheating the coffee by insisting on "shaken, not stirred" because the blender was, unfortunately, being used for nefarious purposes involving frogs spinning at high altitudes and low velocity resulting in extreme dizziness and incredibly painful re-entry impacts resulting in "toadly" bogus frogskins, which the IRS only found out later that Hollywood executives had been using Munchkin hobnailed wooden shoes for door stops, preventing the closing their mouths when they should.

                          But "Silence is Golden," sayeth the gold-laying goose, which the IRS taxed at silver dollar pancake rates. This caused a spike in eggnog spiking with the rum tum turn of the Christmas drum by RumTumTugger, annoying the Little Drummer Boy who stuck his thumb and it got bit off by the Cheshire Cat, mistaking it for a hot dog.

                          Note I didn't say "weiner," because THAT could be construed as conservatively constructing consequential conspiracy theories to divert attention from the giant booger forming in space as Frank Zappa blew his nose on the Star Fleet Charter and started a war with the Blue Meanies and Oompa Loompas backed up by previously undefeated Hobbit All Blacks rugby team whose kicking tactics thoroughly confused the Nazgul goalie playing for Barad-dur Buccaneers C team.

                          When Scooby-Doo and Dynomutt suddenly switched positions and broke through the Vulcan ambassador's icy demeanor by baking chocolate chip cookies in scores of Easy-Bake Ovens with upgraded wattage causing the Eastern Seaboard to experience blackouts, 9 months later it resulted in a spike in crib sales and diaper futures grew exponentially.

                          After the news got out that pinstripes were in again, yellow polka dot bikini manufacturers realized the agonizing sorry they felt after breaking itsy bitsy spiders climbing up water spouts.

                          Still more to come yet when I get to it.
                          ~ Russell ("MelMak")

                          "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



                          • #14
                            Posts #4001-4244...

                            Naturally, Charlotte was devastated becoming a boy named Sue, who married a girl named Fred, and lived confusedly ever after somewhere over the rainbow near Angband.

                            It was a very dark and stormy night, with hail hailing the knight's nightly arrival of his rival to spar with rubber baby buggy bumpers in lumpy jumpers with sumptious gravy soaked mashed potato fillings in Smaug's teeth.

                            His dentist, Jeremy Hillary Boob, Ph. D., told him to eat more greens -- so he added food coloring and lots of Skittles to his moldy PBJ sandwiches and threw them out after smelling fresh hot bacon sizzling on the frying pan rogue uses to conk people on the noggin after they mention the Pin™ since it summons it to smite mightily the enemies of the Ancient of Afternoons, which number less than one million spammers and other advertisers laser focused on redirecting people.

                            Chinese data miners and tofu, neither of which are fit to tie the shoelaces of ballerinas with tiny feet which dance on tight ropes over troubled waters, when tears are hard to come by, since the drought of 1899 when men had to stop showering, Sparko still uses it as an excuse to remain unbathed, unwashed and generally filthy enough to house 1200 pigs in straw, sticks and brick outhouses right next to Wal-Mart as an emergency bacon source for homeless urchins and other people he pretends to be helping become the next Madonna so he can secretly film the Viking Vixens at Vic Van Vonnegut's Victorian Vineyard vilifying whatever witnesses were watching what x-rays of xylophone-playing xenopus' xysts yielding yesterday's yearnings yonder, yet MelMak wailed "no more run-ons!"

                            And the entire narrative instantly shifted into ludicrous speed and vanished into the cold night -- when Felix the Cat pulled yet another trick out of the bag you're left holding when my brudder runs out of Scooby Snacks meant for the children assembling in the school cafeteria to listen to the principal announce that now school's out forever.

                            The kids had to henceforth use Zoom, with which they soon grew accustomed to playing video games to the point that they had muscular thumbs and spindly necks.

                            Soon they organized to defeat the main boss in Stock Market, Phineas Fogg VII who never expected the Spanish Inquisition nor the Butlerian Jihad replacing the Steward Supremacy Syndicate's seasonal filings for bankruptcy jamborees and Concession Repossession Profression Depression Sessions held in Wal-Mart parking lots next to the "free dog" pens (but no paper or pencils).

                            To prevent grammar Nazis from korecting speeling misteaks yoo maid inn yore harry too bee edumakated, sum kornurs wur kut.

                            Distressed beyond measure, and grabbing at straws to snort antidepressants to offset the current round of edicts by the HOA for Moonbase Alpha's duplexes and the maximum permitted regolith depth for Tecciztecatl's zen rock gardens that the rock biter kept using as a swimming pool for his pet racing snail, he named Speedy S-car Go after the famous Polish inventor Grzegorz Speedski, famous for creating pre-blessed frozen microwave dinners for pressure cookers which famously or infamously get used for tofu disseminating devices, which ought to be banned under the Geneva Convention's rules concerning weapons of mass distastefulness, along with another abomination, turkey bacon.

                            Naturally raised hogs provide the very besterest taste, in contrast to those fed on the works of fallen angels and other inhabitants of Portland.

                            Suitably enraged, Oregonians and Mainers argued which of them was least mainstream resulting in the Hipster v. Oregano Spice Girls Tuba Hoedown and Jamboree.

                            After the dust was vacuumed by Mr. Monk, while wearing a HAZMAT suit he identified the murderer from among a murder of crows by the way he held said dust buster, busting felonious dust devils back to the Dustin, Oklahoma's busy bus station where buzzards buzz busts of busty debutants made of unobtainium that were wired to explode in a well-ordered manner to spell out "Unity" and distribute ice cream equally among all the court reporters present to partake in the First Frozen Food Festival for French Toast Jambalaya Jamboree at the Jamaican Jungle Jumble Sale, otherwise known as Monday.

                            The Pirates of Baconopolis, the most feared buccaneers (or is that baconeers?) on the gravy seas of Seasoning (a.k.a the Delicious Deep), plundered the Crabstickean Islands of Hy-Brasil seeking the Colossal Shrimp Cocktail of Doom, prepared by insane chef-bartenders intent on wreaking havoc on AOC's self-esteem by declaring Angela Merkle is cuter and can mix a better Highball than any barista/Congressperson could.

                            Determined to prove them wrong, Pelosi drank them as fast as her new teeth allowed and Botox permitted movement. Alas, she was outperformed by Vladmir Putin who could swallow "wodka" like it's free and clear of any hidden costs.

                            Unfortunately for him, it cost several dachas he brazenly stole from Bernie Sanders during his "mittens" episode last month at millions of locations simultaneously by leaving hammer and sickle lollipops at places he had never even dreamed of visiting before.

                            Biden mistakenly signed executive orders mandating wedgies for anyone spotted wearing a red cap and hoodie and aviator shades, causing The Flash to do a double-take cap to rethink his disguises, causing even the Wet Bandits to reconsider their life choices and consider underwater basket weaving for catching all the wild snipes necessary for the MacGuffin to phlebotinize the unobtanium into phlebotomized strands of pure Chroniton spaghetti, which goes best with dilithium-enhanced spicy meatballs and a soylent green ranch dressing.

                            Hungrily, the Hungarian Hippos leapt forth to monopolize the watermelon stockpile Darkwing Duck had stashed in the Thunderquack's internal bay for future generations to ponder when they mind-melded with the Vulcans, causing Spock to observe calmly that it's time to PAAAAAAARTY!!!!

                            This caused McCoy to seriously consider getting R2D2 to administer daily lessons on the necessity of keeping the flow of melange/spice going while intergalactic warheads closed the Perkins deal, profiting all except the hedge funds, who invested in shrubberies, banking on selling them short as bonzai to the Knights Who Say Ni in exchange for coconut halves on their knees needing needles to doodle poodles with noodles grown on Swiss spaghetti trees.

                            A favourite of Piltdown Man, as well as uptown girls whose musical ambitions were scuppered, the Minnow got stuck on C above high C while drinking High-C at sea heading for the Holy See to seal the deal between Cecil and Cedrick, the entertainer who spells his name "Cedric" so as to confuse an unidentified flying object seen hovering over a certain prodder of bovines as he poked cows so as to stop them napping on the clock, given that clock hasn't run since Forrest Gump's cross-country marathon.

                            Suddenly, without warning, Balrogs erupted from the earth forming a conga line stretching from Cape Town to Vladivostok with a layover in Albuquerque for snacks and to mingle with succubi señoritas offering molten margaritas that tasted quite acetous with the devil's food cake that someone pinched from Satan's baker, the non-existent one, who definitely isn't a stack of flapjacks, eagerly awaited by starving members of the NSA in pecan-flavored batter and walnut syrup and REAL butter with Mrs. Butterworth's secret supply of authentic pieces of the true crossword puzzle lover's Holy Grail, the keys to Dictionaryland itself where everybody says, "Lookitup," as the ultimate insult to those who actually research the issue.

                            That's enough work on that today; will work on the last just under 50 pages' worth another day (when I get my energy back).
                            Last edited by The Melody Maker; 08-10-2021, 05:16 PM.
                            ~ Russell ("MelMak")

                            "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



                            • #15
                              Posts #4245-4432...

                              "Curses!" cried Cyrano. "Foiled again! I knew something smelled fishy trying to tuna piano."

                              Naturally, the man in the iron N95 respirator mask worried that it did nothing for his ventriloquism act, so he changed to alligator juggling, which only served to incense Wally Gator who called in an air of mystery to befuddle all the watchers out of their watches, which the watches were keeping track of with assiduity.

                              Although foretold in prophecy nobody bothered to read it, since it was too long, being over 3 pages, which is FAR too close to the centerfold photo of an A-10 warthog displaying a remarkable spread of flares, projectiles, missiles, and cannon fire that shocked and awed all who were expecting a floral muumuu designed by Jerry Garcia to go with the shrubberies the Knights Who Say Ni had commissioned from the Ever After cemetary and golf course whose hole-in-one deals are a dead giveaway that only a brainless zombie would be dying to take advantage of such an earthy investment.

                              Getting into the spirit, Igor rang the bells to summon the Tatooine Sarlacc to dinner for the next thousand-year celebration of getting gas from Chipotles bathrooms to fill fart guns, violating the Great Convention's unwritten rule against ridiculously overpowered weapons, putting a crimp into roguetech's primary research area and revenue stream that isn't bacon related or involves horrific genetic modification or swapping the big toes on velociraptors with those of squirrels, an experiment roguetech quickly halted due to too many volunteers getting simultaneously scheduled for experiments, provoking many duels to the pain, provoking Buttercup to call for Westley to talk them about Picard's My Little Pony obession.

                              "It is Plato's Republic all over again," Snoopy thought, after another dark and stormy absconding with Captain America's shield to help him with his school project involving vibranium-infused antiquated dishware for dining in the officer's club with Horatio Hornblower, well known by Hamlet for being between believable Mr. Bean Mini Changing Rooms, Inc. and Red Green's handy duct tape launchers for wrapping those awkward moments when the kids burst out of the box you made using chicken wire rather than the recommended adamantium blend bailing wire favored by Aquaman for keeping out those pesky Gungan conga lines from dissolving into square dancing or even line dancing doing the Watusi in a grass skirt and itching powder-laced hula hoops to encourage the fleas to abandon 10,000 camels to infest Sparko's left armpit to combat the lice's self-declared autonomous zone.

                              "Which makes my head itch!" grumbled Popeye, after Princess Leia used a lightsaber to light the spinach-filled blunt meant for scratching that itch in his discombobulated psyche resulting from Zeus' "enhancement" of his spinach crop which Huey, Dewey and Louie thought tasted great until everyone saw MIB's Worms.

                              Reminding him of Aunt Louise, the pet shoggoth Mr. Fluffkins, who won the blue ribbon at the most adorable reality-defying abomination contest short of toddlers getting tiaras to tout tickets to the SUNDAY MAIN EVENT next Thursday.

                              When Thursday came, the crowds stayed six feet apart because of a global deodorant shortage occuring shortly after Sparko heard that it could be used to reduce his odiferous presence and catch more bacon without alerting the neighborhood he's nearby 'cause he still owes Guido fifteen hundred dubloons for the tuna Charlie was delivering to the fishmongers throwing fish at Asterix's wedding to Cleopatra where Tintin punched Dr. Jekyll for interrupting his slow dance with Minnie Mouse while Mickey was getting a drink that Inspector Clouseau concocted back when Cato was ambushing him from armoires rarely linked to Narnia but that on occasion have.

                              Chestnuts roast over an open sewer from the magical land of Id where Sir Rodney Digglesworth McChing! makes his millions in the no holds barred greased pig relay in which OBP took home the bacon after CP only locked it in a poke with a set of 20,000 different padlocks opened by Houdini with only a pack of cards and a bag of chips with a gallon of ranch dressing and duct tape.

                              "Duct tape?" asked MacGyver. "How uncreative. I'd use paperclips and a used stick of gum to bypass the popsicle stick-based security system around the velociraptor pen where holograms dance brilliantly on the side of the cliff, drawing gawkers from far and near, men, women, children of all the foreign leaders who arrived expecting a riveting display of thumb-wrestling and ear wax sculpture, culminating in the highly suspect inclusion of a Borg queen to inspect the ears of Ferengi Quadrotriticale-like corn sold for a suspiciously low price of three farthings and a lock of hair from bald Medusa while whistling Dixie through a garden hose attached to a septic truck that had just come from Rogue's Party Supplies causing concerned looks among the NSA and penguin uber eats driver, since they had just come from there."

                              As the pink elephants arrived, they deposited their treasures into ponderous packets of pachyderm poop precariously piled on old oak pickle barrels now full of side products of a process of elimination which reduced secondary radiation to only mutagenic levels only affecting female platpuses named Wilhelmina, which was of course was just Fred in disguise to nab some brontosaurus steaks from Barney. But not Barney Rubble, since Bam-Bam would then go cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs on Fred's new car, leaving it in rubble.

                              Fortunately, at that very instant, the whistle blew on the Chattanooga Choo Choo which carried the Chinese flu through Timbuctoo to Room 222 from which it flew to and over the cuckoo nest for True Blue Katmandu Stew in a can.

                              And that concludes Chapter 1. Chapter 2 begins with the next post (and page, I see).
                              ~ Russell ("MelMak")

                              "[Sing] and [make] melody in your heart to the Lord." -- Ephesians 5:19b



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