Astro Sod

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Burt looked out the window. And gasped. He hammered on the glass.
“Get the hell off the grass!” He yelled, spit spotting the pane.
“What’s going on, Burt?” She called from the kitchen.
“There’s a damn thing on the damn lawn!” He said, eyes staring daggers through the glass.
“Well, didn’t it see the sign?”
“Of course it did!” He cried, “how could it not!” He pointed at the large placard that stood purposefully at the edge of the property upon which large, stern letters declared ‘STAY OFF THE LAWN. ASSHOLE.’
“What’re going to do?” She said, poking her head through the doorway.
Burt shook his head and didn’t look at her. He was studying the interloper.
“Son of a bitch,” he said.
A chubby, pink globule about the size and shape of a couple sacks of shit sat there in the middle of his freshly mowed, perfectly green patch of suburban pride. It casually raised its globby head.
“Blurmp,” it said and a sticky wad of red slime plopped out of the hole in the middle of what may possibly be somewhat accurately described as perhaps its face and splat onto the grass with a sizzle. Where it landed smoke rose and the blades of grass blackened to ash.
“SONOFABITCH!” Burt cried.
“What happened?” She said.
“He’s killing my boys! The squishy creep is killing my baby boys!!!” He turned to face his wife, “Violet, get my gun.”
To be continued…

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Danger Gang! Go for it!

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“Where the heck is the grappling hook?” Billy asked.

“In the duffel bag,” Judy answered.

“I’m looking in the duffel bag right now,” he said.

She looked up from polishing her magnifying glass, and said, “that’s not the duffel bag, that’s the rucksack. Gee whiz, Billy.”

“Aww shoot, Judy,” said Billy, “I sure can be dumb.”

“Don’t say that, Billy,” said Eddy, walking in through the garage door and leaning his bike against the wall, “you aren’t dumb. There’s a fine line between a duffel bag and a rucksack.”

“Gosh, Eddie, you’re right. I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. But then where’s the duffel bag with the grappling hook?”

“It’s right here,” said Mary as she walked into the garage. She put the duffel bag onto the work bench, “I took it home to polish it.”

Billy unzipped the bag and pulled the grapple from it. It shone like a chrome daisy in a gilded meadow.

“Holy moly, Mary, that sure is a sweet shine you gave it,” he exclaimed, “it’s going to look pretty swell if we have to climb anything on our adventure.”

“It sure is,” said Jimmy, rolling up on his skateboard into the garage, “great job polishing it up, Mary.”

“Thanks, Jimmy,” Mary said, “did you remember to put batteries in the flashlight?”

“I sure did,” Jimmy said, “I bought them at the hardware store.”

“Good work,” said Molly, walking her scooter into the garage, “the hardware store is a great place to get batteries.”

“It sure is,” said Timmy, cruising in on his roller blades, “I agree with Molly, great work on getting the batteries for the flashlight at the hardware store. We certainly may need it on our adventure. I brought the canteen. I filled it with water from the garden hose.”

“Gosh, Timmy, that’s a perfect way to fill up the canteen,” said Tommy, pulling up in his go-kart, “that way you don’t make a mess in the kitchen.”

“That’s right, and my parents didn’t have to scold me for making a mess because I didn’t,” said ¬†Timmy, “did you remember the hot dogs, Tommy?”

“I sure did,” Tommy said, “my mom and I got them at the grocery store.”

“Alright, Tommy, those hot dogs will certainly come in handy on our adventure,” said Shelly as she skipped into the garage, “especially if we get hungry.”

“If we get hungry, I’m certainly going to enjoy eating a hot dog,” Julie said, climbing out of her soapbox racer, “adventures give me an appetite. I also brought the microscope.”

“Good job, Julie, ” Donny said, as he clomped into the garage in his cowboy boots, “that microscope is sure going to come in handy on our adventure. Especially if we have to look at something very small. I brought the slingshot.”

“That’s great, Donny, we may need to use the slingshot on our adventure,” said Danny, jogging in and joining them, “So I’m glad you brought the slingshot. Great work. I brought the tent. My father and I set it up last night. It works great.”

“That’s good thinking making sure the tent works great, Donny,” said Milly and she tied her pony, Featherdancer, to the fence just outside the garage, “I got the machete sharpened at the sharpener.”

“Swell stuff, Milly,” Tilly said powering down her e-bike and putting her satchel on the workbench, “The sharpener must have done a great job sharpening the machete so it’s sharp enough for our adventure. I tested the compass. The needle points North.”

“Excellent,” said Mickey, “the needle of a compass should always point North otherwise we could get lost on our adventure. Good thing you tested it to make sure.”

“Thanks, Mickey, “Tilly said, “did you bring the crossbow?”

“I sure did,” Mickey said, “I also brought arrows to go with it.”

“Gee, Mickey, that’s super smart thinking,” said Nicky leaning his dirtbike on its kickstand and opening the saddlebags, “a crossbow needs arrows to do what it was made to do, shooting arrows.”

“It sure does, “said Mickey, “did you bring the scuba gear?”

“I did,” said Nicky, “I got the oxygen tanks filled at the oxygen store.”

“Smart thinking, Nicky,” Kelly said, moonwalking into the garage, “you can’t breathe underwater, so we’ll need oxygen to breathe if we have to go underwater on our adventure.”

“We sure will,” Kerry said, landing her mini-blimp, tethering it, and entering the garage, “did you bring the fanny pack, Kelly?”

“I sure did,” Kelly said, “did you bring the comb, Kerry?”

“Yes,” answered Kerry, pulling the comb from her pocket, “we can put it in the fanny pack.”

“We sure can,” said Wally, strutting into the garage, “and we can put the cigarettes in it, too.”

“Hey, that’s great, Wally, that you got the cigarettes,” said Kerry, “the fanny pack is a perfect place to put the cigarettes for our adventure.”

“It sure is, they’ll fit perfectly in the fanny pack,” said Sherry as she goose-stepped into the garage, “and those cigarettes are the brand we all smoke, so that’s great that you got that brand for our adventure.”

“I know,” Wally said, “that’s why I got that brand, because we all smoke it. Did you bring the ranch dressing, Sherry?”

“I sure did,” Sherry said, “I went to the grocery store and got some.”

“That was super smart of you to go to the grocery store to get the ranch dressing,” Wally said, “because that’s the kind of store that has ranch dressing. Great work.”

“And if we have to have a salad on our adventure that ranch dressing will come in super handy,” Lizzy said, hopping off her pogo stick, “because you put ranch dressing on salad.”

“You sure do, Lizzy,” said Petey, hanging his toboggan up from the hook on the wall inside the garage, “I hope you brought the pregnancy test for our adventure.”

“I definitely brought the pregnancy test, that way we can test to see if anyone gets pregnant on our adventure,” Lizzy said, “especially if we orgy gang bang it nasty style on our adventure.”

“You said it, Lizzy, “said Petey, “banging orgy nasty gang style on adventures is something we should definitely be prepared for. That’s why I brought the snakeskin rug.”

“What a great idea, Petey,” Billy said, “if the gang nasty bangs orgy style on our adventure then we will totally need that snakeskin rug. This is going to be one heck of an adventure.”

They all gathered in the centre of garage, joining hands in a circle of team power. They raised their heads and hearts to the heavens above, and sang, “PREPARATION!”

 

 

The Voyage of the USS Velvet Tomato

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“And the voices of the children, joined the worries of the elders–“

“Commander–”

“For those who’d risk their lives, to journey to the stars–“

“Commander–”

“And their hearts beat faster, and their eyes filled with tears–“

“Commander!”

He turned his chiselled face as much as the harness would allow, “whuh?”

The equally chiselled but more boyish face beside had maneuvered as much as it could in its seat to stare at him, “we’re deep into go time here, I don’t think the singing is appropriate.”

“Aww, c’mon, lieutenant, you know you love it. This is exciting. We’re blazin’ a trail here.¬†And the clouds, they all parted, and the sun was a shinin’, and the stars were a callinn-nn-ng–“

“Control, can you please remind Commander Davids that his sopranic croonings are not part of the program,” the lieutenant said into his headset.

“Roger that,” the speaker squawked, “Commander, please be advised that high-pitched vocals are not one of the mission parameters.”

“Copy that, control” Commander Davids said, “but I just want it noted for the record that you’re all art blind.”

“Copy that, commander,” control said, “you copy, lieutenant?”

“Copy that, art blind, check,” said the lieutenant.

“Control, just a final thought from all us here in the cosmo-craft Velvet Tomato, that thanks for all your hard work and that we are all looking forward to one helluva ride,” Davids said.

“Roger that, VT-one, a hell of a ride it is going to be. And now, VT-one, we are a go for launch,” control said, “final countdown, commencing, ignition in ten, nine–”

Across the ocean, athwart the fields–“

“–eight, seven–”

“Up, up the hillside, and through the trees–“

“–six, five–”

“Over the mountains!”

“–four, three–”

“Onto the launch pad!”

“–two, one. Ignition.”

“And FIRE AWAAA-AAA-AAYY!!!”

The united neighs of a billion flaming horses rumbled up through twenty-five stories of alloy and engineering and two entire generations worth of man hours into the tiny cage of heroism that sat atop it like a cherry on the most dangerous sundae in the universe and then slowly lifted itself into the sky, seeking the stratosphere, reaching for outer space, to take to the limit, and beyond–THE MEN WHO SHALL PUNCH THE SUN!

 

 

Capt. Lanny and the Adventure of the Hairless Banana

jesustruck4Capt. Lanny tightened his pony-tail and climbed up onto the bridge of the S.S. Spasm Jackson. He put the binoculars to his eyes and scanned the horizon.

“No sign of ’em, Fernie,” he said, “no goddamn sign.”

“When you think’ll seeum, Cap’n?” Fernie answered, then spit his huge wad of bubble gum overboard into the dirty brown river.

“When they goddamn well decide we oughta,” Lanny said, pulling a crumpled pack of Chomper’s Chew brand chewing gum from his fanny pack. He jammed three pieces into his maw and tossed the pack to Fernie. Lanny took a deep nasal breath, the electric odour of raw sewage burned his brain-bag.

This, he thought, is a chlamydia mission to the max. They do not pay me enough. But I always come floating back. I have mental problems. Maybe there’s some kinda prescription I could get for some kind of something that would turn off my stupid decision reflex. Or at least numb it a bit.

“Contact!” Fernie cried, “got some of them short-haired puss boils making their way down stream over yonder like.” He pointed. Lanny followed his stinky finger. Sure enough, a flotilla of paddle boats were slowly slurping their way towards them.

Nasty damn, he cursed inside, and I thought I could make through this morning without having to stab some goddamn puffy bag of curds in the face and browning my undies. C’est la vie.

“All hands on deck!” He yelled, and tightened his fanny pack. Time to earn my goddamn paycheck. And have a little of the old bad fun.

Bring it on, you squishy goofs…

Felinious Goshdoggery

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Like a tiger in the night. She’s got leopard skin shadows. Like a lion in the light. She smells like a jaguar. Run run run. She’s a panther lady. Her fur is waxed fantastic. Beige and black and gold and mottled. She licks it clean, smooths her emotions, purrs as she sips a glass of sparkling wine. What’s the verdict, lady? She gives it 7 lives outta 9. She’s a wondercat feline fanged being beyond simple meow meow. Where did she go? Where did she get to? Nobody knows. She’s on her own in the big, big city.