Posts Tagged 'Death'

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

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Sweet or Dill Pickles? (Off the Grid)

OfftheGridPicSo, this professor went into a food store this past week.

Do you like dill or sweet pickles…or neither? That’s my question to you, I must admit.

See, while I was in the store, I picked up a jar of pickles and went to pay for them like any respectable thingy might do.

But now, the fellow at the register, said: “Sir…I just want to make sure…you know, right, that you are holding sweet pickles? I mean, you’re going to be buying sweet pickles!”

He said it as if he was shocked.

“I had no idea,” I said. “I picked up the first jar I saw. See, between me and you, they all taste the same anyway.”

“Uhh…” and he trailed off a bit. “You’re wrong. The sweet pickles…” And he paused here, ’cause he couldn’t find the word he was looking for. Or rather his tongue couldn’t.

“…Sweet pickles…”

I let him flounder for a bit, just because I’m a wicked professor, don’t you know.

1310199457_SweetPickles1_xlarge

Sweet, waterlogged pickles.

© 2012 Cie Stroud

Dill pickles.

Then he found himself.

“Sweet pickles,” he said, “are worse for you. They’ve got…preservatives.”

“Do they? A wonder,” I said. “Now how much is this?”

The line was building, too, I should say.

“Sir,” he said, “I’m really suggesting that you get dill pickles right now.”

And that’s when the woman behind me said, “Could we move it along?”

I turned around. “We’re having a giant pickle discussion. Please hold on for a few.”

She huffed.

“No,” I said, “this professor will get these.”

“Sir, you will die in a few years if you continue to eat like this.”

And I got them.

And…this professor still hasn’t touched them.

Kirk’s Funeral

The professor strongly recommends before reading this post, to visit each of the following profiles for a quick review: The Punchies, Kirk, Arnold, Mitchum, Humphrey, Sylvester, and Punchy Murdoch. You may want to look at Schwarz as well.

Kirk—leader of the Punchies—was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing Punchyish can come of this tale.

The events surrounding Kirk’s death were shrouded in mystery. Here are the known facts, in bullet statements. Easier to understand that way, I think.

• Kirk left the Punchy Cave to visit his father, Punchy Murdoch.
• Punchy Murdoch later returned to the Punchy Cave with a coffin.
• Punchy Murdoch claimed that Kirk had died while he was visiting him, and that his son was now in the coffin, awaiting burial.
• The other Punchies accepted what Punchy Murdoch told them without reservation.
• The Punchies prepared Kirk’s funeral.

That was about all that was known. The Punchies scheduled the funeral, and were somewhat excited about Punchy Murdoch taking over his son’s post as the leader. At least, that’s what they were expecting to happen.

What they weren’t expecting, however, was for Schwarz Tauptinker to show up at the funeral…

The Punchies sat around an oak table; Kirk’s coffin was close by.

“My dears,” Punchy Murdoch began as he addressed the Punchies, “I know that Kirk’s sudden and unexpected death has left us all a bit uneasy.”

“Not me!” Arnold, the orange Punchy, thundered. “Kirk had it coming to him. He was always so mean.”

Punchy Murdoch glared angrily at Arnold for a moment, until Mitchum got his attention.

“Punchy Murdoch,” the blue Punchy, Mitchum, said, “do we know why Kirk died?”

“Good question, good question.” Humphrey, the red Punchy, nodded his approval. “We must needs know.”

“Well, Mr. Blue and Red,” Punchy Murdoch began, “Kirk just dropped dead while we were having our tea together. I believe that the cause of death had to do with worms in the brain.”

Sylvester, the tough Punchy, smiled. “I always knew Kirk had worms in the brain.”

Punchy Murdoch scowled, but did his best to hide it.

“Yeah, me too!” Arnold chimed in.

“Never mind about that,” Punchy Murdoch said, with a wave of his hand. “Let’s get on with the funeral.”

But, suddenly, a voice broke out:

“I don’t think so! Chickit!” Schwarz stepped into the room, a huge, monstrous gun in his hands. “I’m greatly disturbed—tell you what!”

Punchy Murdoch raised his eyebrows in turn. Then he spread his arms wide. “All of the Punchies know you’re disturbed, Schwarz. This is a private funeral; you must leave immediately.”

“I don’t think so, dude,” Schwarz said. “Do you know why I’m here? It’s ‘cause you killed your son just so you could take over his position as leader of the Punchies!”

All of the Punchies gasped—save Punchy Murdoch.

And he grew immediately flustered.

“Don’t listen to him, dear Punchies!” he said. “He knows not about what he speaks!”

“Oh, I so do!” Schwarz returned. “I’ve dogged you all the way across the desert back to this cave, and I know that you killed your son, dude! Chickit!”

Punchy Murdoch became alarmed. “You followed me here? Did you see anything?”

“Yeah, I saw you dragging the coffin back and mumbling to yourself how it wasn’t worth it. I’m glad that you think killing your son wasn’t worth it—but you still sinned big time, man!”

Punchy Murdoch screamed out, “Clasp thy lip, infidel!”

“Noooooo!”

Schwarz jumped across the table and pinned Punchy Murdoch to the wall with his gun.

“Punchies, save me!” Punchy Murdoch yelled.

“I don’t know,” Arnold said. “Kirk might have deserved to die, but it wasn’t right of you to do it.”

The other Punchies nodded.

“Why don’t you open the coffin, Arnold?” Schwarz suggested, not for a moment looking away from Punchy Murdoch. “Then we can see if he’s lying!”

Sylvester stood, spat on the table, and threw open the lid to Kirk’s coffin.

Everyone craned to look.

The coffin was…

Empty.

“Chickit!” Schwarz said. “It’s worse than we thought! He buried him out in the place of murder, ‘cause it was such a gory death!”

All the Punchies gasped. Then, they began to chant:

“Shoot the murderer. Shoot the murderer.”

Schwarz nodded. “You killed your baby boy.”

“Wait!” Punchy Murdoch screamed. “I am Kirk! Don’t shoot! I’m Kirk!”

Schwarz shook his head. “Nope. You and Kirk looked the same, but you’ve got a long white beard. You’re definitely not Kirk.”

“But I got his dirk!” Punchy Murdoch said desperately.

Schwarz looked at Punchy Murdoch’s belt. “You stole it once you killed him. That’s what you did! Chickit are you cruel!”

“NO!” Punchy Murdoch yelled.

“You killed your baby boy,” Schwarz said. “And now you got to pay.”

Schwarz cocked his gun.

“Wait!” Punchy Murdoch said. “Don’t do it! I’m Kirk!” Then he reached up and pulled of his beard. “I’m Kirk!”

Schwarz looked at him quizzically for a moment, all the Punchies gaped.

For a moment Schwarz seemed uncertain; then he shook his head.

“Na,” he said. “Na.”

Schwarz pulled the trigger…

O Punchy Family—thoughts please!

 

Punchy Proverbs of the Week

Punchy Proverbs of the Week:

Ambition is good—when not possessed by the ignorant; for then you have determined idiots.

Impatience prolongs the task at hand; patience makes sure it never gets done.

Work is not the death of freedom; negligence is.

Vanity merely gives a hedonistic and ignorant society something vain to dote upon.


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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Professorish Smiley:

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or

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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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