Posts Tagged 'Prince Beef'

The Jeweled Katana–Found

The adventure never truly ends.

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledSo, this professor let them go.

Bud Parker and Schwarz Tauptinker went back in for the fake katana.

Of course, they didn’t know it was fake.

But I did.

See, this goes to show you that the professor knows mostly everything but never lets on that he does. #LifeLesson

Anyways and some, Sweet Sue guessed that the katana was fake. She knew. Deep down in.

What the kapoo.

Clara Higgins ran back to her tea shop.

This professor is not sure where Gertrude went, but rest assured, she went.

Now, as for this professor and hisself, I hopped on a plane.

Time for a vacation, see.

I was heading here:

Contrary to popular belief, I do swim with the fishes--sharks.

Contrary to popular belief, I do swim with the fishes–sharks.

See, it was a good adventure (the whole katana thingy) and now it was drawing to a close. What does one do after an adventure? Go on vacation, of course. #LifeLesson

The professor was a Just warrior. This was a truth. After all, I had stopped the thievery of the Diamond of Drake. Prince Beef still wanted it, yes, but it was doubtful that he’d get it. Especially since he didn’t have a lady wanting a ring, see.

Anyways, it wasn’t the professor’s problem anymore.

I was on vacation. Well, almost.

Prince Beef thought he had the Jeweled Katana, but he didn’t. Not that he would care much if he found out.

And this begged the question, like a beggar begging: Where was the real one?

I had misplaced it somewhere along the line.

No!

No!

Yes! Coolness overload.

Yes! Coolness overload.

Oh, what the kapoo. Who cared anyway?

The professor did. Deep down in. Rats and a Heifer!

Now, this is when the interest happened. As I was sitting there, waiting for the plane to take off, King Arthur came and sat down next to me.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said.

“Why, why.” I could think of nothing else.

“Going on vacation, too?”

“Well, yes,” I answered. “After a great adventure one needs to.”

There was silence for a time, times a bit of another time.

“So…” I said as the plane took off. “Where is the real Jeweled Katana?”

“Why would I know?” Arthur looked away.

“‘Cause this professor has been having thinks on it, and I’m thinking you know. That’s when I lost track of it, when I was with you, don’t you know.”

King Arthur sighed. “Why hide it any longer?”

He grabbed his book bag (he had one) and unzipped it.

Inside: the Jeweled Katana.

Well, a miniature one.

“So?”

“So,” Arthur said. “That’s it. I had it cropped so I could use it. Long swords are hard to use–“(Arthur is really short, remember)–“Then I planted the fake. It was a setup. That’s what you stole.”

“Dadblameit.”

Not very victorious, after all.

Arthur laughed. “Sucker.”

Fmtn-high-sucker-4

Me.

“I need a vacation, the sudden, even more. Even if I don’t deserve it, double-the-sudden.”

And that’s when the pilot came over the speakers:

“Hey, honeybuttses, hope you’s all havin’ a good day. I’s your pilot.”

Many greats. If we got to the vacation spot, it would be a fantastic miracle.

Who knew what we were in for with Manly-Man as our pilot?

THE END

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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.

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Sweet Sue Busts Us Out

Big ups and thanks to Susan Price for brainstorming with me on this one. In TPL, she’s Sweet Sue. Yo.

If you feel vicious, take it out on the weeds.

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledSo, there we were.

Sitting in a dark, dank prison. And it was full of lice, ticks, spiders, worms, and the scurvy.

Anyways, it was quite a meeting. Sort of.

We were all sitting in a circle: Schwarz Tauptinker, Bud Parker, Clara Higgins, Gertrude Tauptinker, and of course, this naughty, naughty professor.

None of these dispirited ones were talking either.

“So,” this professor said, breaking the silence. “We’re all going to die, that’s an interest.”

“Shut-up!” Clara snapped.

Schwarz piped up to announce: “I’m not going to die, tell you what, chickit. I’m busting out! Oh yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Yeah sure, bud,” Parker said. “Like that’s going to happen. We’re like heavily guarded.”

Gertrude started to cry.

“Stop it, man!” Schwarz yelled at Parker. “Look what you’re doing to my sister, dude! Just stop, man.”

Silence again.

It was also very dark in the cell.

YUTE_G_09

The door was shut, tho.

Presently, a quiet sound that grew louder filled the room.

“And this,” said a narrating voice, “is where we keep the worst of the criminals.”

It was a group of people. A tour.

See, every so oftens, tours come through Prince Beef’s palace.

What a thing.

I felt like a bear in a zoo.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

The professor.

The group stopped in front of our cell.

“Look at them,” the tour guide said. “The worst of the worst.”

I must admit, Clara did look pretty bad, but I thought I was rather spiffy looking, still.

Of course, this professor scanned the group…and that’s when I spotted someone who I didn’t expect to see.

Sweet Sue. There she was, mingling in the crowd.

But she had many other different names, really. See, Sweet Sue is an epic spy, always going about the land doing secret missions of the upmost importance.

There was no way, of course, that she was just here for a tour. Besides, this professor and Sweet Sue are great friends. I looked at her.

She looked at me and I saw she had a basket with something orange and white moving in it.

Then I knew that she knew: She was going to bust us out.

The group left and this professor stood.

“Well, well, welly,” I said. “Dadblame all the ticks in here, we’re getting out.”

“I knew it would happen if I was patient,” Schwarz answered, standing.

Parker shook his head. “Don’t get your hopes up, bud.”

“Just shut-up, all of you,” Clara said. “We’re not getting out, we’re going to die.”

“You shouldn’t have attacked Prince Beef.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please stop.”

“If you insist,” I said.

“I do.”

“K.”

Footsteps again. And light.

It was Sweet Sue with her moving basket.

“I’ll get you all out of here,” she said. “But just because the professor and I are friends.”

There were some exclamations of surprise amongst the group.

“You’re friends with PVJ?” Parker asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “We’ve done missions together before.”

“Secret, secret missions,” I said. “I’m an inhuman spy.”

“Knew that,” Clara mumbled.

“They were wonderfully great missions,” she said.

Then Sweet Sue had the door open very fastly fast. How she did it, I’ll never know. But she’s like that: Quick as a sleeping chap winking. Which is very fast, since sleeping chaps never wink.

In an instant and some, we were all out and following her down the hallway.

“Do you know the way out of here?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” she said.

And that’s when we ran into a guard. At the same moment, something white and orange jumped out of the wobbly basket and distracted the guard with his claws before the guard could say cat.

“Hey!”

But that’s all he got out.

In another twinkle (sleeping wink), Sue had him on the ground and out of the game.

“Why are you here?” I whispered as we left the palace.

“I’m working freelance for Mr. Magi…”

Oh dear.

PL Symbol

Racing About

They say if you run, make sure to finish the race; but I say, if you run, make sure your legs don’t give out.

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

Untitled“Give us the katana now, bud,” Bud Parker said, stepping forward.

“You better do!” Schwarz Tauptinker said.

So, this professor did.

“Here you go, I say.” And I handed the katana to Schwarz.

See, I handed it to him just because I wanted to make trouble.

Here’s the thing: The professor loves making trouble.

Just like this fellow:

muikabochi_2803

Now, you may ask why the giving of the katana to Schwarz would cause trouble. And this is it: Bud Parker wants it.

This will make him unhappy–that I handed it to Schwarz.

Schwarz took the katana and held it close, like a precious baby.

pet-sematary-1989-movie-8

“Just like that?” Parker asked, looking from me to the fake katana Schwarz now held.

“Just like that,” I said, sudden-like. “This professor is sick, tired, and sick of carrying it here, there, and everywhere. I’ve been attacked and maybe even killed for it. So, take the dadblame thing, I say.”

And I turned on my heel and strode away, deeper into the palace, like I knew where I was going–but I didn’t.

Then it hit me, of course.

Things always hit me later than they should. Many dadblameits about that.

This is like a late hit, see.

This is like a late hit, see.

See, Prince Beef would never forgive me if I didn’t return the katana to him.

Rats and a Heifer! I had to go back and get it.

I turned on my heel again and strode back to where Parker and Schwarz were.

They were fighting over the katana.

“It’s mine!” Schwarz yelled, raking Parker across the face with his hand.

Parker yelled out, and ducked, clutching his face. “Bud! Why’d you do that?”

“Mine, mine, mine!” Schwarz chanted as he made off with the katana.

Parker and I were on the chase within a tick or two.

And there we were, racing down the halls of Prince Beef’s palace.

It was a mad race, too.

Here.

There.

Corner cut there.

Super loop going on over here.

It was dastardly.

It must’ve looked fun because eventually we were joined by palace guards.

“Bud,” Parker breathed hard to me (we were running side by side), “do you think they’re after us?”

I looked behind for a split thingy.

About 40 guards all yelling for us to “desist and stop.”

“Nah, definitely after Schwarz.”

Parker nodded.

And we kept running.

But then Schwarz entered a room without another exit.

It was the throne room.

Filled with more palace guards, Clara Higgins, Schwarz’s sister, Gertrude, and the prince himself…

PL Symbol

Gone, In a Twinkle Or Two

It is usually logical to assume logical things. 

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledA fake?

How could it be a fake?

Simple. It was built as a fake.

Rats and a Heifer!

King Arthur was a cunning rat. If indeed he was the one that faked it.

But first things first. Otherwise, the second and third things start to try and fight for first place. Never a good thing, you know, you know.

Anyways and some, the tavern was ugly.

61475a_da015e7e1c9647c791011a9aee8aee60

I looked for a place to hide.

There was none.

It’d be a battle.

The door swung open behind me, and I turned in slow motion–sorta like in the movies.

But standing in the doorway wasn’t Mr. Magi

…it was Fats Henry.

And he was huge, and huge, and scowling, and huge.

He was also carrying a bat with spikes.

It looked something like this. Now, isn't this the most coolest baseball bat ever? You can each get me one for my b-day. Many pleases and thank yous.

It looked something like this. Now, isn’t this the most coolest baseball bat ever? You can each get me one for my b-day. Many pleases and thank yous.

The professor stood his ground, of course, and drew out the katana with plastic jewels. It might’ve been a fake, but it was still steel. Which is far better than steal still.

I picked off a fake ruby from the hilt.

“Well, well,” Fats Henry boomed.

A hush fell upon the tavern. Not that there were many people there. But still, they hushed right up like a bunch of olives in a salad of fruit.

(Olives are intimidated by fruit, see, that’s why they hush. Mindeth-never.)

“Who would’ve thought I’d run into you here, huh? Henry swiped at me with his bat.

The professor dodged and I chucked the fake ruby at him. It bounced off his head.

“I bet you did,” I said. “After all, you saw me land here, I do believe. And you came looking here.”

The professor threw an emerald this time.

“What?!” Henry roared. “I always knew you were rich, but not rich enough to waste precious gems! Now give me the katana!!”

And he swung again, but I caught it on the sword this time. Henry thought this was the real katana. An interest.

We entered into an intense battle of swordplay. Well, batplay for Fats.

Now, the thing is, Mr. Magi entered soon after Fats Henry did.

He came barging right through, like a bison to a party.

“What…” he sputtered. “Enough of this!”

And out came his cane.

Which is bad.

It’s sorta like a wand, don’t you see. And sometimes he does things with it he doesn’t mean to do.

He swung it once, twice, then thrice.

“Oh no!” Henry yelled, ducking for cover.

“Professor VJ Duke, you handsome bastard,” I said, “run.”

(Sometimes I have speaks with myself. Helps me stay motivated, see.)

But it was all fruitful. Wait. Fruitless. It was all fruitless. Yes, that’s it.

There was a flash, a twinkle.

And then the professor found himself inside Prince Beef’s palace.

Clara Higgins was standing right there.

She dropped the tea cup she was carrying.

Dadblameit.

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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