Posts Tagged 'Daddy Salami'

Things go South

Sometimes, the best way to end things, is to initiate them.

~ V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledSo, the professor was in the lodge, surrounded by all these evil people with guns.

And Count Mastoid was there.

“Take off his mask,” Count Mastoid repeated.

He was talking about me, of course. This professor had an epic spy mask on.

But no one was making a move.

So, the professor, being the genial fellow he is (usually), I took it off.

“Who are you?” the count asked.

“I’m Professor VJ Duke, of course,” I said. Straight up. Honest. My goals in life.

That puzzled him right up the middle for a second or two.

“Why do you want to kill me?”

Time to epic obfuscate. I looked about at all the men with guns surrounding me. “Doesn’t seem like I’m the one trying to kill anyone, you know.”

He didn’t buy it. “You know what I mean.”

Now it was time to tell a few little lies.

Here’s the thing, see, a little lie plus another little lie, doesn’t really equal a big, fat lie. Rather, they equal two little lies. Don’t ask me why. It’s just how lies function in mathematics. #thisiskindatruebtw

Anyways and some, this professor said:

“I didn’t want to kill you, of many courses. I was just…” And I trailed off.

How do you explain the fact that you were walking around like this–

ffd918d6982efe5d55ed9aabbfe5187c

–in a vacationing destination.

“He’s lying,” the girl said. The girl who had tackled me. (The pink is not sexist of me. I’m running out of colors.)

“No, he’s not,” I answered her.

“Yes, he IS,” she repeated, a bit more slowly this time.

“Hush!” Count Mastoid said.

“Look here,” I said, taking charge of the situation, “if this professor was trying to kill you, it’d be dadblamery. Analysts say that not everyone is as focused on you as you are. Do you know what I’m trying to tell you? You think everything revolves around you, when, actually, it revolves around the sun.”

unknown

It made sense to me.

“Dad, I don’t believe him!” the girl said. “He was trying to kill you! Why else is he dressed like that?”

Dad? What an interest, the sudden…

And, of course, just when the professor thought I might be able to talk my way out of things, Daddy Salami and Ruber show up, banging through the front door, guns ready.

“Well, well, welly,” Salami said, looking from Count Mastoid to me. “Looks like our boy”–indicated me here, I fear–“found ya.”

Dadblameit.

PL Symbol

Holiday Cut Short

The beating of your heart reminds you you only have so long to beat.

~ V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledI woke up somewhat tired and somewhat sleepy.

Isn’t that an annoying thing?

It always annoys this professor.

I mean, why can’t I wake up somewhat not-tired and somewhat not-sleepy?

The land is against us, I fear.

Anyways and some, it was a cold day where the professor currently was messing about in the Punchy Lands.

Very much so like this.

This is where I was. Sorta looked like this. Look–a bird! I think it’s a Cardinal. Must be Catholic. #badjoke

I was at a ski resort, see. In truth, this is true: the lodge looked like a bunch of tinker toys.

The professor was spending the holiday at the resort, and it was a definite interest.

You see, that’s because the professor can’t ski.

Well, I’ve never skied before, I suppose.

I just like to go to ski resorts just to hang out and think about skiing. One of my fav pastimes, you know. #mostlytrue

Anyways, the professor had just woken up. I wrapped myself in a red Pats hoodie…

Like this.

Like this.

…and left my room to explore.

The lodge was pretty busy downstairs, and it wasn’t long until this professor ran into Daddy Salami and his son, Ruber. (I’ve known Salami and Ruber for a bit now. Always up to no good. I think they live in England. And I think Salami used to be a knight.)

They were sitting at a table, finishing breakfast.

Of course, this professor being the adventurer he is, joined them quicker than a tadpole popping out of a…

…well, you know what I mean.

“Gentlemen,” I said.

Salami’s green eyes flashed. “We ain’t, gentlemen, ya turtle. Now sit down. I have sumtin’ important ta tell ya.”

Was he expecting me? Nah…

Ruber chuckled as ripped two pieces of bacon up and plopped the pieces into his coffee. And, yes, he did drink the whole thing. In one gulp. #impressive

“What is it, not-gentlemen?”

“Shut-up!” Salami snapped. “And be quiet. It’s a secret.”

Then he leaned close: “We were one man down on our mission, but then ya showed up, and yure gonna help us.”

“Or we’ll pluck yo eyes out,” Ruber added, in his English accent.

“Come on,” Salami said.

They both stood.

“What are we…?” I ventured.

“Knocking somebody off,” Ruber said. “Get your skis.”

“Count Mastroid has ta die,” Salami added.

“He’ll be on the slopes soon,” Ruber said. “We’ll get him then.”

Salami laughed, obviously excited. “See ya in front of da lodge in twenty minutes, cur-face, or I’ll cut yure face out and use it as a wall decoration.”

A mission on the slopes sounded fun. But knocking someone off? Warriors don’t do that sort of thing.

Plus, the professor can’t ski…

PL Symbol

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

Decisions, Decisions

What makes something precious? The amount of people willing to die for it.

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledThe professor stopped right there and his jaw dropped a bit, bits, and little bits.

“You’re working for Mr. Magi?!” I asked.

After all, this professor wasn’t on good terms with Mr. Magi. He was of the school of thought that this professor was a thiever, because well, I took the Jeweled Katana to prevent further thieving.

Just goes to show you that they learn nothing in school, really.

Sweet Sue turned and looked at me, as if she was maddened she had to explain. She was always like that, see.

Direct.

And to the point.

I wear a shirt like this every other day.

I wear a shirt like this every other day.

Great spy characteristics is one of her strong suits, see.

“I said freelance, Noodle. No one owns me but myself. Don’t worry, I’m not going to turn you in. I was there when you and Mr. Magi threw down the gauntlet.”

“You were?” The professor may have been shocked. Not that I’ll admit it freely again, though, see.

Sweet Sue just looked at me. You know. That look.

“Well,” Clara Higgins huffed, looking at Sweet Sue. “I think you should turn him in! He’s the one that got me involved in this whole thing!”

“Did he really?” Schwarz Tauptinker said, shaking his from side to side and staring at me. “I don’t believe it…”

But he did.

“We better get a move on,” Sweet Sue said. “If you want to get out of Prince Beef’s palace alive.”

And that’s when the cat–who had attacked the guard–jumped back into the basket.

“Ahh, George,” Sweet Sue said. “Where would I be without you?” George looked at her with his eye lids at half-mast and purred loudly enough to scare a grizzly bear.

George and Sweet Sue are un-seperate-able. This is fact. The professor should get a cat.

This is another fact.

I’m full of facts today, I think.

Check it out! A list of cat fats. This just fits somehow...

Check it out! A list of cat facts. This just fits somehow…

Anyways and some, Sweet Sue and George led us through the caverns of the prison until we all popped out in a small forest near the palace.

forst
This professor could see the palace from the forest. Which was neatio. Keeping an eye on things, see. It’s always good to be able to see, double-see.

“Now,” Bud Parker said, folding his arms. “We’ve got to regroup and go back in.”

“What?!” Clara wasn’t happy–she was almost howling.

“We do,” Schwarz admitted. “We need the katana, oh yeah.”

“Schwarz, no,” Gertrude said. “Let’s just go.”

“No, baby sister,” Schwarz replied. “Must. Do. It. Do it NOW!”

“We’ve been trying for it for some time,” Parker said, casting me an ugly look. “PVJ got in the way, though.”

“Look here,” I said.

And everyone did.

I was surprised it worked. Must remember it works that way, see. #MentalNote

“This sort of thing is quite vexing. Let me be frank–“

“I thought you were PVJ,” Schwarz interrupted.

That was a thing.

“Well, then,” I continued, “just let me say this: Originally, this professor thieved the katana in order to stop Prince Beef from having Fats Henry thieve the Diamond of Drake. I thieved to stop thieving. Which sorta makes thieving okay.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Clara mumbled. “It was stupid.”

“Since then,” I continued undaunted by the mumbling, “things have happened. The marriage has been called off.”

Gertrude started to cry here. “There…there…there was going to be a party tonight to celebrate our marriage! But…but…but…then she came along!”

Clara looked away.

“But,” I said, continuing on my professorishly topic, “Prince Beef still wants the Diamond of Drake. Which means, we’re right back where we started at.”

“Bud,” Parker said, “Schwarz and I are moving in. Tonight. We want the sword.”

“Oh yeah, yeah, yeah,” Schwarz agreed. “The Prince is still going to have the party, I’m sure. You don’t have all that stuff prepared just to waste it, tell you what.”

The professor’s mind went like this:

The katana the prince had was fake; but they didn’t know that; they would make a great distraction if this professor needed to go back in tonight; did the professor need to go back in tonight?

I looked at Sweet Sue. Sue looked back at me. We both nodded. And then it became clear.

PL Symbol


TPL Schedule

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Monday: TPL Story

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Friday: OFF — All Day Sleep Does

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