Posts Tagged 'action'

Lodge Fight

If you wonder about the origin of everything, you may come to the conclusion that there was no origin of anything.

~ V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledSo, the professor ran back into the lodge like a bat from the depths of heaven, running from an angel who’d had a bad day, and was carrying a torch that was glowing purple, which made it very freaky.

If you think that was a run-on sentence, or that something was wrong in the preceding paragraph, please think again–at some other time, just not now.

Anyways, the decision was before the professor.

Should I help Salami and Ruber knock off Count Mastroid…or, should I do the just thing and stop them?

Of course, the professor, being a righteous and just soul, full of the iniquity of many different nations and tongues, I decided to let things just ‘roll’.

But first, I changed into an epic spy uniform.

ffd918d6982efe5d55ed9aabbfe5187c

Yups. That’s kinda what I looked like. Complete with the boom-boom as well. #evil

Anyways and a sum that would boggle the mind of an accountant, once dressed, I went downstairs.

That was a mistake, I fear.

“Oh my!” one lady screamed. “We’re all going to die!”

At first, this professor just chuckled. I mean, after all, if I looked that scary, then… #success.

But things got worse. Everyone started screaming. Chaos. That’s what it was. Babies were bleating, too.

Then, this professor noticed movement out of the right side of my right eye on the right side of the lodge.

I thought nothing of it, for this professor was heading towards the door. I had to meet two fellows outside, after all.

But that moving thingy rammed right into this professor, and knocked me clean off my feet, like a potato that’s slipped down a peeler’s sharp blade and into the moist sink. (Yes, ‘moist’ is a disgusting word, I fear. I’ve outlawed it, the sudden.)

I went tumbling and landed on my back. The moving thingy–which was a human–was straddling me.

The boom-boom was knocked from my hands.

The human, who was dressed very similar to me–so I couldn’t see the face–began to try to choke the poor, dull professor out.

Now, the professor has jitsed in his day, and–

bjj-program

–it’s very easy to discern between the sexes, you know. It becomes readily apparent for a few different reasons.

The professor could tell that the human was, in fact, a girl.

#timetowar&riot

I pulled her close, executed a flip (I was on top now, see) and pulled a knife from my boot.

She grunted as she hit the floor.

Not too much like this, tho...

Not too much like this, tho…

And that’s when the professor felt a muzzle press against his head.

No, it wasn’t the pooch kinda of muzzle either.

“Well, well,” a voice rang out.

The professor was hauled to his feet, off the girl, who stood. She was #cranky.

I was surrounded by at least ten men, all armed to the teeth–and even eyes. The lodge had cleared out. All the vacationers were gone. Quite gone.

A fellow with a gray goatee was standing close by.

“I knew the assassination attempt was coming. I just didn’t think the assassin would walk through the lodge and announce himself like an idiot. This was too easy.”

Then, to his men: “Take off his mask!”

Almost Crushed

Our greatest triumphs usually take place during our weakest moments.

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledSo, I’d been tranquilized slightly.

I say slightly ’cause this professor could feel everything but my legs and feet. Some feeling was coming back, though. But I was selfish, and wanted it all back.

The whole thing was demeaning, you know.

Anyways and some, Manly-Man and Daddy Salami had rescued me from the back of a van. (Remember, we’re stranded on Honi Planet, capital of the Honi Galaxy. That’s a no brainer, gee.)

Anyways and sums (I had to change it this time, see) Manly-Man and Daddy Salami were carrying me between them, down the busy city streets, dodging people here, there, and even some vehicles.

I swear I was almost crushed at a few points.

And this professor hardly swears when in trouble. Dadblameit.

We stopped in an alleyway.

alleyway__stock__by_adin_jenks

“I need me a breather, curs,” Salami said, huffing and puffing.

“Okay,” Manly-Man said. “I could keep going, though, ’cause I’s so fancy.”

Salami looked at him. “Shut-up.”

“Look here, fellows,” I broke in, “can someone tell me what’s going on? Why was my intergalactic flight shot down?”

“I’ll tell yer why,” Salami wheezed. “You stole this”–he held up my can of cherries–“and the Honi government wants it back!”

“Give me my cherries, the sudden,” I said. And I said ‘the sudden’ part quickly, ’cause I hoped he’d give them fastly fast.

He didn’t.

“That’s why’s we’s leavin’, dude,” Manly-Man said. “I’s going to rocket outta here. Does you wanna come?”

No, of course not, I said, I must stay here and figure out things. I’m an epic spy slash super villain, after all. I shall get to the bottom of this! 

That’s what I thought would be cool to say.

What I actually said: “You got it, get me outta here.”

Let’s be real: I couldn’t feel my legs and I was in a foreign city. What was I going to actually figure out? Nothing, I tell you. Adventure had to wait.

I was like this dog: couldn't feel my legs.

I was like this dog: couldn’t feel my legs.

But that’s when things went south.

Salami went to throw my cherries onto the busy street…

…and I hollered…

…and I let out after them…

(Which, by the way, is a wonder, since I couldn’t feel my legs. Have I mentioned that yet? But I was able to propel myself.)

I fell right into the busy street.

A car stopped right in front of me.

Its breaks squealed.

I missed death by this much…

Ladies and gentlemen and Walt, that is my spirit animal.

Ladies and gentlemen and Walt, that is my spirit animal.

Now, I just laid there. And played dead. Maybe they’d go away. After all, I had the cherries.

Safe and sound.

The car doors opened.

And a VERY tall woman got out. She was in high heels, too, so she was epically tall.

A guy her same height got out of the passenger side.

He had blonde curls floating about his head. Like worms.

Something like this. This is actually a mossy slug, or something like that..

Something like this. This is actually a mossy slug, or something like that..

“Oh, look,” the woman said, in some sort of scary accent, “we almost crushed his life out.”

That was a thing. Thanks for not doing that.

I said nothing, though. Still playing dead.

869701-Dog-playing-dead-1

She turned towards the fellow and hissed:

“Put him in the back. Quick.”

I was in trouble.

A glance about told me Manly-Man and Salami had deserted me.

I was in trouble.

But the cherries were nestled safely under my arm.

PL Symbol

Rescued (Somewhat)

Silence is only agreement if you agree to be silent.

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledSo, yes, here it is in a nut:

I was tranquilized and carried away by Honi security guards.

Yes, it’s awful. Yes, it could get worst. No, there was nothing I could do about it.

And then I was escorted roughly from the building and thrown into the back of a van.

Sorta like this. Only no free candy. Let that be a lesson to you: Kidnappers never give out free candy.

Sorta like this. Only no free candy. Let that be a lesson to you: Kidnappers never give out free candy.

Two of the guards sat with me.

I looked at them each, in turn.

They both looked away.

I looked again.

“Hey,” I said.

“We can’t talk with you,” one answered shortly.

“You’re in big trouble,” the other said. “Just wait till we get you to the capital.”

“Quiet!” his partner yelled at him.

The professor was undaunted, of course. “How come and why so? Why am I in trouble?”

“Because you had this,” and the one guard held up my jar of cherries.

MY cherries. The brute. The beast. The inhuman dirt-face!

But I remained calm.

Because that’s what real professors do.

The sudden, the van stopped.

There was some sort of commotion up front, then we lurched forward again.

“When do you fellows suppose I’ll be able to feel my feet again?” I asked.

A just question.

After all, tranquilizers can’t last forever, can they?

I felt like this monkey, only I wasn’t eating:

stock-up

I was cranky like him, see.

Dadblameit.

Then, the van stopped.

We waited.

5 minutes passed.

The one guard looked at the other guard.

“Hank,” he said. “What’s taking so long?”

“I don’t know.”

Sounded nervous.

I began to whistle.

“Shut-it!” Hank said.

5 more minutes passed.

I began to feel my feet.

Oh goody.

200_s

“That’s it,” Hank said, and he threw the doors open.

Daddy Salami was standing there.

His orange hair was a mess, and his green eyes were bright.

#Trouble

“What the–!”

A fight ensued.

Salami won.

It was bloody. There were screams.

“The turtle curs,” he said. “Hahaha.”

That’s when Manly-Man peeked into the van.

“Hey, honey.”

“Well,” I said. “About time I was rescued.”

“Strange things are afoot,” Salami said. “And it has to do with yer cherries.”

“How’d you know?” I was surprised, after all.

Salami’s mouth dropped into a frown.

“He told me.”

A thumb in Manly-Man’s direction.

Manly-Man tilted his head and gave me a tight-lipped smile.

Then he said: “It’s deeper than you know, dude.”

PL Symbol

Fighting But Not Fighting

So, yes, I know: I’m horribly off schedule, but mind: Schedules exist to be broken, that’s what makes them schedules.

Whoa. That was deep.

Consider that the proverb for this episode.

***

This professor was with Manly-Man, who had just knocked senseless the Honi officer fellow.

You know, the one who had done something to Starlet–I mean, Starling.

At least, I think he had something to do with something that had maybe happened to her.

We were in this room:

This was it. Blah, right?

…with the Honi Officer unconscious on the floor.

I was carrying my jar of cherries, though, so all good on the professorish front.

“Time to go,” I repeated.

“Let’s do it, honey,” Manly-Man replied.

Then quicker than a winking noodle, we opened the door.

It was unlocked, see.

Now, being the exceptional thinker that I am, it was around this time that it dawned on me:

“Yo. I bet someone saw you knock that fellow senseless. I bet they’re onto us.”

Manly-Man ignored me.

He was like that, see.

We were in a hallway.

And there was nobody about.

Nobody at all.

Strange.

I looked twice, thrice–still nobody.

(That’s the key, see. Always look thrice. Things pop up on the thrice look.)

And sure enough, things popped up. #LawofThrice-s

Lots of things, actually.

The hallway was crowded with figures in yellow space-looking suits. More lithe than a spacesuit, but still.

They were carrying some sort of evil-looking device.

“We better run,” Manly-Man said.

And he took off, without so much as an answer from me.

Just left me to die, in other words.

I caught up with him, of course.

Manly-Man rounded a corner and threw open a door.

It thudded shut behind us.

#thud

“We’s safe.”

“I think for the min–“

I stopped.

See, that’s when this professor saw Starling. You know, the harried lady from the international flight, the one with the big bag.

She was doing great.

Well, I lie, just a bit.

It wasn’t the whole Starling I saw.

Just her head. #NotRad

And it was looking pale.

I suppose headless heads look pale. #ProfessorishTheory

Notice how pale the head is. Then again, the body is, too. Hmm...my theory isn't holding up too well.

Notice how pale this fellow’s head is. Then again, the body is, too. Hmm…my theory isn’t holding up too well.

But we didn’t have time to think on things.

The door blasted open.

Yes, blasted.

tumblr_mhkqrcyVUL1s51zjyo1_500

Only Strider didn’t come in.

All those space suited fellows did.

They raised their guns.

This professor, of course, instinctively reached for his katana. Gone. It was gone! I nearly cried on the spot. I didn’t have it with me. All I had were the cherries, see.

Manly-Man’s suit came up.

(Yes, MM has a suit…sorta like IronMan. It’s part of what makes him so manly. Manly-Man’s suit is more bulky, though, and blue and dark gray. Now you know. Very powerful, is the manly one.)

Unknown

*sigh* Love IronMan. But Spiderman would beat him. No arguing with me, children.

So, I was weaponless and everyone else had weapons. I felt sorta…sorta…like this:

giphy-46

One of the mean space dudes raised his weapon and shot me.

 

I was paralyzed on the spot, from the shoulders down.

The jar of cherries hit the floor. But the jar didn’t break! Dadblame plastic. Why is everything made out of plastic these days? Plastic that looks like glass, and even feels like glass. Double-dadblameit.

Manly-Man fought and blasted and fought, killing bunches, I think.

Then again, since I was laying prostate–ahem, prostrate on the floor, I can’t be sure. (My face was puppy-wards, tho. So not really prostrate.)

The floor view, see, wasn’t exciting.

A couple suddens later, I was picked up and moved by the evil space-fighting-crazy-mean-yellow-Honi dudes.

Not rad. Rats and a Heifer. Dadblameit. Maburnit. *cussing vocab exhausted*

PL Symbol

In Trouble

A lie is a clever way to tell the truth—subjectively.

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledHoni Planet.

Where do I start?

Isn’t that awful? When people say that?

They get to these epically great places that need a description and all they say is, “Where do I start?”

See, that’s just so they don’t have to explain or describe anything. Lazy, I tell you.

Then again, I’m feeling that way right now.

But I’ll fight it (since I’m such a warrior) and explain, because I’m a goodly professor.

Okay, so the planet was something. It’s basically one big city. Everywhere. Tall buildings here, short little squat buildings there; pushcarts selling everything imaginable (except beetles) lined the busy streets; there were fancy restaurants, and restaurants only fit for beetles; and every sort of store imaginable; there were also bikes, motorcycles, cars, and all sorts of different transportation devices.

It stank a bit. And it wasn’t too dirty. #ProfessorAppraisal 

In fact, it looked a bit like this–

01nyskyline1536

–had mated with this:

Senate_District_ROTS

Anyways, the streets seemed treacherous to navigate, but all the passengers were driven away from the sorta-crash in authority vehicles. It was stuffy in the authority vehicles; it stank in the authority vehicles–never ride in authority vehicles.

Now, once we got to where we were going (after about a thousand years), we were all abused and pushed around. They even took my pack.

I ended up in an ugly, plain room, sitting at an ugly, plain desk.

With Manly-Man.

This was it. Blah, right?

This was it. Blah, right?

Was hoping these would show up.

Was hoping these two would show up.

“Hey, dude,” Manly-Man said.

He was going to say something else, but I interrupted.

“I just want to say, what you did back there, landing the ship and all…good stuff. Well done. You have my approval.”

Manly-Man smiled a tight-lipped smile and craned his head one way. Almost treating me like a little kid. Like it didn’t matter he’d gotten my approval.

Rats and a Heifer.

“So, what happened? I was sleeping, see.”

“I doesn’t know. Someone fired a missile at us.”

That’s when the door opened and a respectable looking chap entered. He looked pregnant the way his belly bulged around, but rest assured, I know he wasn’t. He had a gray mustache  and he was balding. He was dressed in the Honi Empire’s colors: Yellow. Just yellow.

I think he was a sheriff.

He sat down across from us.

“Okay,” he began, but I cut him off.

See, I was cranky. After all, being taken into custody right after surviving a near fatal crash was wrong. Especially since they told us nothing. Not much of a kind reception. (Goes to show you how much the Honi Empire dislikes people from TPL.)

“Look here,” I said, but then he interrupted me.

“Don’t you DARE talk over me,” he said, wagging a finger in my general direction. “I give the order–“

But I cut him off.

“Double look here, you beast,” I said, “I’m the professor–“

He took over here, with a vicious slam to the table.

“If I have to tell you one more time–“

Manly-Man broke in.

“Quiet both of you. I’s leaving. I’s done playin’ games with you. I’s gettin’ cranky.”

And he stood.

That’s when the that chap put my can of sweet cherries on the table.

They’d searched my pack. The blackhearts.

I was even crankier then.

“You’re going nowhere,” he said. “We found this can of cherries in this one’s pack”–a thumb in my general direction here–“and you were the pilot. How’d you get that can? Did you run into Starling on the flight? What’d she tell you?”

Then, quicker than a lightning bolt, I grasped the cherries.

Yes, my bolts are blue.

Yes, my bolts are blue.

“Mine,” I said, like a caveman.

Not the professor.

Not the professor.

He stood.

“If you don’t answer my questions, you’ll end up just like Starling!”

Was that the lady with the briefcase?

Then everything happened too quickly.

The fellow pulled some sort of evil looking instrument from his belt and Manly-Man took him out–with one blow.

Dadblameit!

And then, Manly-Man said, as if to explain his actions: “I’s said I was getting cranky.”

Of course, that explained everything perfectly.

“Time to go,” I said.

PL Symbol


TPL Schedule

Sunday: OFF — Day of Shalt Nots

Monday: TPL Story

Tuesday: OFF — Because I'm Gone

Wednesday: Professor Speaks

Thursday: OFF — Because Yes

Friday: OFF — All Day Sleep Does

Saturday: OFF — Blue-Footed Boobies Need Fed

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Depends on the day, see.

Punchy Argot:

1. Dadblameit.
2. Humdinger
3. Chickit
4. Chicky-woot-woot
5. Malediction
6. Rapscallion
7. Gardoobled
8. Congratulilolations
9. Togoggin
10. Gargonic
11. Two and Five Gurgles
12. Rats and a Heifer
13. Two nods, a wink, and an astroid
14. A bit, bits, and little bits
15. Huff-Hum and a Roar
16. So many thanks, I can't begin to thank you
17. Ri-do-diculous


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