Posts Tagged 'fighting'

The professor Fights

“Look here,” I said, and I must admit my frustration was growing lots and lots, “I’d like to rent this book.”

“Can’t,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because this particular book only has the buy option.”

This professor was standing in a bookstore on a college campus. Let me tell you now–like right now–college books are very expensive. And renting college books is expensive.

Just a little less expensive.

So, I tried from a different angle.

“Check this out, the sudden,” I said, “this book is called ‘The Life, Death & In-Between Space of Dr. Lewis Dayton Clark.'”

“So?” And she pursed her purple lips together (I don’t think they were natural, mind) and put her hands on her hips.

“So,” I concluded, “it follows that no one wants to buy a book about the in-between space of Dr. Lewis Dayton Clark. Therefore, it must be available only to rent.”

There were a few chaps that started to laugh behind me.

The girl pointed a finger in my direction. “You have an attitude. I’m getting the manager.”

And she flounced off.

I left, of course. With the book.

But I ran into the manager and the girl outside.

The manager chap, I must say, was a bit puffy and fat. He was eating something. Must’ve been interrupted. He was cranky, too. Red cheeks, see.

“YOU!” he bellowed. “You’re not allowed to rent that book!”

And he tried to snatch it from my hands.

But this professor being quicker than a snake swimming around in an ice pond, snatched it away before he could gain possession of it.

Check it out! Snake on an ice pond. See, kids, I DO NOT make this stuff up.

Check it out! Snake on an ice pond. See, kids, I DO NOT make this stuff up.

“Look here,” I said, “look here right now, you puffy, ignorant Yucketh!”

That took him–and her–aback.

“I happen to be a professor. The professor. I told my students they could rent this book. And you…YOU! You dare?! I shall turn you both in to the Union at once.”

So, that’s when everything went downhill.

They didn’t exactly buy my story and I didn’t exactly buy the book.

#Won/Lost

Introducing my new spirit animal!

5366157677_d38db97722_b

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Thrown out of Gillette Stadium (TPL Story)

Run fast, run true, run for by Charley we need you!

~ Early rhyme from V. Shnodgrate

TPLStoryPic

Here’s the thing: When you leave a place, make sure you leave, and leave.

And that’s exactly what the professor did.

I left.

Really, I left.

And left nothing behind.

Then, I made a trip to Massachusetts. To Foxboro, to be precise. It’s on the way to PT News, see. So, I decided to stop for a bit. Take a breather.

I won’t bother you with all the gory details of the journey. This professor accidentally upset a few people along the way. I think I sang twice. Danced but once. And ate three pickles in a row.

That’s about it.

Now, there was a lot of noise coming from Gillette Stadium, so I made my way there.

Gillette_Stadium01

I tried to get onto the field, but a chap was standing in the way.

“Whoa,” he said, “can’t go in. They’re practicing in there.”

“Who?” I asked.

He looked at me quizzically. “Really? The Patriots, of course.”

“Very good,” I said. “Now, let me in, my man. I’ve got a slice of bone to pick with the troops.”

“What?”

I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, really.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“What did you mean?”

“Well, I’d like to go in, if you don’t mind.”

He huffed. “But I do! You can’t go in there! GOT IT?!”

And he screamed that last part.

“Not yet.” I answered. “Yell a bit louder, please.”

He was about to do something, but at that very minute, Schwarz Tauptinker came by.

And he looked angry. He was staring intently at the guard. In fact, he didn’t even look at this professor.

“You know what,” he said, “I brought you a soda.” Schwarz held it up for inspection.

It was kiddy size.

Unknown

“Now will you let me in, chickit?” he asked.

The guard shook his head.

“If you both don’t get out of here, I’ll arrest you.”

“No you won’t!” Schwarz screamed, and he tried to rush past the guard.

But the guard caught him and they went down together.

That’s when this professor made the move.

I leapt like a gazelle, and went right over the guard and Schwarz.

It wasn’t too big of a leap since they were on the ground and all. But I’m figuring a gazelle would be a bit jealous, because I did it with only two hooves, instead of four.

Capreolus_capreolus_cloven_hoof

Then, I was on the field.

Just like that.

There was this chap standing in the middle of the field throwing balls to another chap down the field.

I joined the chap throwing balls.

It was Tom Brady.

“Your throw is rather accurate,” I said.

“That’s what I train for,” was his curt response.

“Are you a quarterback or a running back?”

He finished throwing the ball. Then he turned and looked at me.

“Idiot. Get off the field.”

I thought about it twice, then decided not to.

Brady turned to me again. “Really? Get the heck out of here. You’re on my field.”

“Your name is Gillette? I didn’t know…”

Then, I got thrown out, can you believe.

Grr.

Defending the Fallen (TPL Story)

TPLStoryPicNow, as soon as I stepped through that door, I saw Ruber Salami standing a bit off, chopping wood.

Both Arthur and I approached, just because. After all, when you see a chap chopping wood, some sort of inspection is necessary.

For instance, is he chopping cherry, oak, spruce, poplar, birch, osage orange, or manilla wood?

As we approached, I said, “Arthur, I’m thinking we must guess what sort of wood he’s chopping.”

“I don’t care,” Arthur huffed. “I’m going to see if he’ll join my rebellion.”

What a wonder. Arthur was already starting his own rebellion to fight the current one.

A splendid plan–for a toad.

We approached to within five feet and stopped.

This, it turns out, was a dastardly mistake.

You see, Ruber saw us approach, and he was in the middle of a swing. He took his eyes off his duty for a second to ask, “What you want, eh?”

And the axe came down. And the axe imbedded itself somewhere in his ankle, I think.

He howled and dropped into a heap, clutching at his ankle.

“Save me!” he roared. “I’ve done cut my leg off!”

Arthur looked disappointed. “You did nothing of the sort. It’s just a little flesh wound.”

“IT IS NOT!” he screamed. “Save me!”

Now, I find that whenever something drastic happens, people have different reactions. Some, panic and run about, some laugh, and some stand there and just think.

I’m the third some.

Ruber met my eyes. “DO…SOMETHING!!!”

“Quite right,” I said. “Let me have a look…”

But at that minute–the very minute I was about to take a look at that gruesome wound, which was bleeding everywhere–we heard voices.

And lo, the current rebellion–I guess the only one, since Arthur’s wasn’t off to a good start–came into view.

About 30 fellows armed with pitchforks, knives, and forks, came marching forward.

When they saw us, they gave a war-whoop.

“Run!” Arthur said.

And he took off.

“Don’t leave me!” Ruber yelled.

Which is funny. It’s probably his yelling that brought them in the first place.

“Are you part of the rebellion?” I asked.

“I didn’t know there was one!” he answered.

Oh dear.

Time to defend. I took a strong, professorish stance, and drew my katana.

The sun gleamed off the sharp blade.

The rebels pulled up and braked just a bit before me. I think they were stunned by amazing weapon.

“If you attack,” I said, “I shall be forced to fight.”

And…they charged.

The battle was on.

I swung and parried and did some twirly things. And it worked–for a bit.

Eventually, I was overwhelmed.

The last thing I remember was…fighting.

Then the professor was out.

Like a cricket in the winter.


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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