Posts Tagged 'Ruber Salami'

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

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

Claiming the Katana

Birds of a feather don’t flock together because birds of a feather tend to be jealous of that feather.

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

Untitled“Hehaha!” Salami laughed triumphantly.

And he jumped up on a stool for added height. Daddy Salami isn’t too tall, you know. And the stool didn’t add too much to his height. It was a 3-inch stool, if that.

Salami scowled and became decidedly more cranky.

The stool had betrayed him, see.

“Ya cur-belly!” he shouted from his perch. “Ya think ya won? Ya just lost!” And then he belted forth in a strained voice: “Ya just lost evvvvvvvvvverything!

The professor really wished he hadn’t said that. After all, we were the ones that lost. Well, sorta. Must always keep in the warrior frame of mind, see.

Warrior Frame of Mind:

How are we? Solid.

Chance of success? 100%.

What to fear? Nothing.

I am the reaper.

See. Double-see. And a triple-see, just to make sure you saw.

King Arthur shook his head.

“You think you won?” he asked. “Yeah, no. Not even close.”

Arthur strode further into the room, his regal cape flapping in the breeze behind him.

There was no breeze since we were in a castle. But any time a cape is described in writing, there’s always a breeze, I find. So, I added one for kicks, giggles, and whatnot.

Arthur stopped inches from Ruber Salami.

The ant had met the bear. That was the size difference anyway.

See what I mean? You can't even see the ant.

See what I mean? You can’t even see the ant.

“I’ll enjoy seeing you suffer,” Arthur said.

“Me?” Ruber asked, aghast. “It was his plan.” Ruber stuck a thumb out in Salami’s direction. “Why come and pick on me? And, look, there’s PVJ, too!”

“Ruber,” I said, “don’t bring me up. I’d rather not be brought up; I’d rather not be here; I’d rather just not be–at this special moment.”

Arthur looked at me with a scowl and shook his head.

Then to his soldiers: “Off to the dungeons with them.”

“Didn’t ya hear me?” Salami screamed, frantic from his perch. “I’ve won, cur-face!”

Arthur spun. “Really? You think that by saying that you’re going to win?” He sighed.

And that’s when it happened: Salami propelled himself from his perch, towards the katana. He scooped it up and tossed it to his son. Ruber grabbed it but was immediately torpedo-ed (new word) by Arthur. The katana hit the ground.

This professor scooped it up; the soldiers charged in, and the battle begin.

I traded thrust for thrust, slash for slash. Their broadswords and this professor’s katana lit up the night sky.

Figuratively speaking.

Like this.

Like this.

Ruber and Salami were also fighting.

Somehow this professor ended up fighting Arthur. The king was holding a katana–it looked exactly like the Jeweled Katana, in fact, save for one significant characteristic: It was way smaller, to fit a person of Arthur’s size.

But still.

Why make a copy of the sword?

We traded blows.

Crack!

Arthur’s katana split in half.

He stepped back, and this professor made towards the exit.

Like an giant anteater running from a jaguar.

Only I don't have a tail like that.

Only I don’t have a tail like that.

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

A Team To Thieve

No pain, no gain. Unless you’re eating loads of ice cream. Then there’s lots of gain and no pain.

V. Shnodgrate, Renowned PL Poet

UntitledNow, here’s the thing: When you’re being followed, don’t get too jumpy. Or cranky.

That’s the key.

You just have to be like, “Yo, hey, yep-yep.” (That’s just an example of something to say. I really probably wouldn’t say that, notice.)

Anyways and sums, this professor was being followed.

Being followed.

Being followed.

And that’s why the professor did what everyone should do when being followed.

I spun around, hands on hips, and waited for them.

They were shocked–there were two of them, see. I could tell by how they stopped abruptly before starting back up again.

Spinning always throws the opposition off. That's why Jedi and Sith do it.

Spinning always throws the opposition off. That’s why Jedi and Sith do it.

Eventually, they stopped within two feet of me.

That was close; the professor was feeling claustrophobic, the sudden.

And I knew who it was: Daddy Salami and his son, Ruber.

“Hey,” Salami said. “We heard ya escaped Fat Man Island. And me boss wants ya back, turtle-cur!”

“Yeah,” Ruber put in. “Who do you think you are trying to escape, huh?”

“Not trying,” I noted. “I did escape. But what happened to Parker and Schwarz?”

“Oh them,” Ruber said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “They got away. But who cares, eh?”

Salami turned and looked at Ruber. “Cur!” he said, with a hit to his shoulder. “We care!”

Ruber just chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Whatevah.”

“So what do you two chaps want?” I asked.

“You know what,” Salami said, his green eyes flashing. “We want the katana ya stole, cur-face.”

Aha! This was working superbly. A plan was brewing in my professorish mind, see. It was a great plan, double-see. It was a plan to get the katana back, triple-see.

“I don’t have it,” I answered.

“What?!” Salami’s mouth fell open like a trout dropping from a waterfall.

There's a trout in there somewhere, I'm sure of it. If you look closely.

There’s a trout in there somewhere, I’m sure of it. If you look closely.

“Can you believe this guy?” Ruber said.

It was more of a statement. I don’t think he really cared about the whole thing. My guess, Fats Henry hired Daddy Salami as a henchman. Salami brought Ruber aboard for extra help. That was my professorish guess, see.

“Well, where is it?” Salami asked in a low, raspy voice. “Give it here, cur!”

“Here’s the thing, King Arthur has it.”

“Hehaha,” Salami laughed. “Arty…does he, does he? We’re gonna steal it from him. And you’re gonna help!”

“When are we going to do this?” Ruber asked. “I’m sorta famished at the moment.”

“Tonight,” Salami replied.

It was mission time.

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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