Posts Tagged 'Professor'

For When the Zombies Come…

professor speaks

Okay.

So, the professor over the weekend got this epic army pack.

Sorta like this:

Just like this, in fact.

Just like this, in fact.

I nabbed it at a gun show.

Image #: 23247670    BIRMINGHAM, Alabama -- The Alabama Gun Collector Association Summer Gun Show is this weekend at the BJCC. The theme for this show is Western and vintage firearms. Show hours are Saturday 9 a.m. - 5 p.m. and Sunday 10 a.m. - 4 p.m. The big topic at this show was the shortage of .380, 9 mm and .22 cal. long rifle ammo.         AL.COM /Landov

Whoa...

Whoa…

They also have swords, by the way.

Now, you may ask why I got the pack.

Simple.

It’s for when the zombies attack and the whole grid blows up.

zombie_teaser

Hmm…she doesn’t look like a zombie. Just a badly injured chap.

Look here, this is the one that would come after me:

evil dead 2 25 zombies (Custom)

Now, in the pack I’d have all sorts of things to defeat that fellow above. Like…mustard gas, I think.

MUSTARDGASClipboar_2532687f

Then again, he looks like that was already used on him.

Dadblameit.

Dock 10

Watch out for the man that airs his opinions as facts; if he does that, pretty soon, he’ll believe it.

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledSo, we landed without any more issues.

I mean, this professor got to nap.

The burly chap and the lady stayed pretty much to themselves.

Capital, I say. Quite capital.

Anyways and some, once the plane landed we waited around in the plane, smashed together–without any air, mind–like beetles in a beetle paste, until the ramp was up and rocking out.

Beetle paste is made with these chaps, I bet.

Beetle paste is made with these chaps, I bet.

Now, here’s the thing about the professor: I travel light. So light, in fact, you probably wouldn’t think I was traveling if you saw me about.

I had a pack.

And that’s it.

Army-Backpack-Rucksack

My pack, see. Who knows what I put in there.

Where was I?

Oh yes, the ramp.

Once off the ramp, I was free.

At least, it felt that way.

At first.

See, I had arrived at Space Dock Morchester. One of the busiest Space Docks in the land.

People were everywhere. Screaming, shouting, talking, laughing, crying, dying (medics were with them, I promise), and sleeping on benches and chairs.

It was something to behold.

Bags and suitcases were everywhere, too.

“Look there,” said one chap who was passing by with his wife. He was pointing to a red bag off by its own in the corner, near the restroom.

“What about it?” she said.

“A bomb, I bet.”

“Not a chance,” she said. “Remember the first rule? Never put bombs in a red bag. Everyone sees red. How many years did we work in the business and you still don’t get the basics?!”

Rats and a Heifer! What a thingy.

Busy, like this.

Busy, like this.

As a rule–and this professor doesn’t make too many rules, usually–Space Docks are full of violent people. I mean, it figures out, if you figure it.

Figure: People from all over TPL put together, and then, add people from the whole Honi Galaxy. Yup. A recipe for something to burn,  I say.

So, this professor went off, searching for my dock.

“This way, this way!” shouted one woman in a uniform. “If you’re heading for dock 5!”

I wasn’t, of course.

The professor was heading to dock 10. And no one had anything to say about it.

Thus, I slugged on, like a slug, through the crowd, always being sure to watch that I didn’t get thieved from. Never know when that might happen. #AlwaysWatchful #AlwaysCareful Professorish Mantra, right there.

Then I heard him:

“Oh my. Look who it is.”

I spun around.

Leaning against a fake island tree was Mr. Daniel H, the kids writer.

I approached, cautiously.

“Hello,” I said.

“Bet you didn’t expect to see me,” he said.

“Not at all, really,” I answered. “And you wouldn’t know the way to dock 10, would you?”

Daniel shook his head. “No, I’m heading for dock 3. I have a book to publish. I don’t know why, but my publishers moved to another planet. That’s not fair. Not fair at all.” Then he squeaked. He does that from time to time.

And that’s when the professor saw the sign for dock 10.

I also saw another thing, which was way scarier and gave me the shudder:

Manly-Man, wearing a pilot’s uniform, was seemingly heading towards dock 10, too.

dadblameit

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

Katana Returned

We all adopt truth as our own, mold it, make it, and try to totally dominate it. But truth is as unmovable as…the most unmoving thing you can’t think of.

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledWe all stopped, the sudden.

Like penguins before jumping onto a sea cow.

tumblr_n2hilyicjK1s02vreo1_400

Prince Beef must’ve been in the middle of a long speech, for his hand was outstretched as if it was flying about making one of his dull points seem sharper.

He also seemed quite perturbed at being interrupted.

Clara and Gertrude were standing in front of him. Gertrude’s blond hair was in weird braids, I must admit. Almost like a Viking might do. Clara’s black or brown hair was all off to the side, as usual.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Prince Beef spitted, spluttered, and yelled.

We did make quite a racket coming in.

“I’ll tell you what!” Schwarz Tauptinker said, brandishing his new katana about. “I…I…brought this back for you, your highness!”

And he dropped to a knee.

Parker and I shared a look of surprise.

“Good for you, my man,” the prince said haughtily, and a little less angrily.

Then he snapped his fingers twice.

The katana was retrieved from Schwarz and brought to the prince. He inspected it once, twice, thrice, then threw it over his head.

“Toasty,” he said to a fellow who stepped up, “call Fats Henry. See if he’ll still get the Diamond of Drake for the katana.”

Toasty bowed and left–with the katana.

“You know, Schwarz,” the prince said as he began to pace about upon his raised dias–he was on one, by the way, “I’m quite fond of what you just did. Bringing the sword all the way back like this. It shows loyalty. That’s what I like about your sister, too.” He looked at Gertrude here.

“That’s chicky,” Schwarz said, obviously condoning the marriage.

“But…” the prince trailed off. “That’s what makes life so hard. Because how can I choose between your sister and this girl, Clara?”

Shocked. Deep. Down. To. My. Bones.

At least I think I was.

Prince Beef liked Clara?

Had to figure out more, but Bud Parker beat me to it.

“You have two girlfriends, bud?” he asked.

Prince Beef shot him a red-eyed, evil look.

Sorta like this.

Sorta like this.

“How dare you insult me, you mad toad?!” he declared.

Good name calling, I thought.

Parker shrugged. “Like I care.”

“Imbecile!” the prince shouted. “I can’t wed both! I must choose!”

He then became softer.

“Ahh, Gertrude,” he said, “my first love.” He ran his hands through her hair.

Looked like he was searching for mice, in truth. I imagine that’s how it’s done, anyways and some.

Then he turned to Clara.

“And Clara,” he said, “ever since you fell on your knees before me and declared him”–he pointed to this professor here–“to be a liar and cheat…I’ve loved you. What is a prince supposed to do when he falls for two women?”

And Prince Beef collapsed onto his thrown, exhausted.

Clara just stood there, all stiff like. She was definitely cranky. Gertrude looked upset.

“Dadblame all this dadblamery,” I said. “I’m outta here.”

But.

Things happened.

And rather quickly too.

Schwarz rose up on his feet.

“How dare you!” he yelled in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll kill you!”

“Schwarz, no!” Gertrude said.

Prince Beef looked up. “Oh, guards, arrest everyone. I’m tired of the whole lot.”

Schwarz charged the prince, but the guards stopped him.

There was a fight.

I joined in.

Just because.

Fights are fun, see.

PL Symbol

Sneaking Into the Castle

Love conquers fear because love is to be more feared than fear.

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

Untitled“Ow!” Ruber hissed. “Come on, eh? Watch it!”

“Quiet, Ruber, ya dirty cur-mark on me belly!” Salami snapped. “If we get discovered, I’ll take yer nose off with me pliers!”

In truth, this is true, both Salami and Ruber were making more noise than two toads singing for their long-lost loves. (That’s a lot of noise, you must know.)

“I think we should try to be quieter overall,” I mentioned, just to be nice.

“Shut-up, cur-mouth!” Salami almost hollered.

Now, here’s the thing: King Arthur’s castle is up on a hill, surrounded by a rather large village, which is surrounded by a wall. The gates to that wall are closed at night. And since it was night (almost morning, I fear) the gates were shut–tighter than a rope stretched between two stiff trees.

See how tight ropes between trees are?

Very tight, see. But wobbly trees.

So, since the gates were closed–and heavily guarded, mind–we were climbing up the outside wall.

See, it was messed up enough, with holes there and holes everywhere, that we could sorta get some footholds and whatnot.

Ruber was leading the way, followed by Salami, who was followed by this professor.

Salami kept hurrying Ruber along from below, sometimes even pinching him, I think.

“Stop pinching!” Ruber yelled.

He yelled it, too. Rats and a Heifer! #Doomed

“Our cover’s been blown!” Salami shouted. “Everybody hurry!”

And quicker than wet noodles from the boiling pot, we got over the wall. Now, it turns out, the sentry on this side of the wall was dead asleep.

Which means he might’ve been dead if I didn’t think he was sleeping, see.

We passed him quietly and climbed to the ground. We were in the village. The castle was northeast of our position on an acropolis. (That’s my war talk, don’t you know.)

Now, wonders of wonders, there was no party of guards waiting for us at the bottom of the wall. We were still undiscovered.

This was goody.

About a tick or two later (probably more), we made it to the palace.

“It’s gonna be guarded strong,” Salami wheezed. (Out of shape, see.)

But it wasn’t.

The castle’s drawbridge was lowered, the doors wide opened.

We cautiously entered the castle, every sense on red alert.

Red Alert.

Red Alert.

Salami knew the castle well. It’s said he used to be a knight of the round table. I doubt that story, though I’ve got no reason for doubting. I just like to doubt, see.

He led us through the winding passages, long hallways, and lofty rooms.

Eventually, we entered into a room with a vaulted ceiling. There, lying on a purple cloth on a table…was the Jeweled Katana.

“Haha!” Salami laughed triumphantly. “I knew he’d have it here! Cur-Arthur.”

Narsil

Then I noticed it. The sword had been reforged! It was no longer in two pieces, but whole.

I would’ve danced at that moment. But there was no music and we were on a secret spy mission, remember.

“Well, let’s get it and get out of here!” Ruber said, moving forward, his leather boots clicking on the floor.

Not clicking, but creating some sort of sound that’s rather indescribable.

Goodness. Problem. How was I going to get the katana from these two?

But I was saved.

The room lit up. Soldiers ran in.

Followed by King Arthur.

“I thought you might’ve tried this, PVJ, but not with them!”

Maybe not that saved.

PL Symbol


TPL Schedule

Sunday: OFF — Day of Shalt Nots

Monday: TPL Story

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Wednesday: Professor Speaks

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Friday: OFF — All Day Sleep Does

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