Blanche and Ozwald Episode VII- The suspicious looking bowl of petunias

Blanche and Ozwald stepped through the portal into a magical place, with green grass and trees all around, chirping birds, bunnies, a brook of trickling water was flowing set among the lilies and posies. There were little trails paved by deer and white fluffy clouds whisping through the blue sky. The air was filled with the scent of blossoms and berries from the pink and blue leaved trees. “Wow!” Blanche exclaimed. This is beautiful!” “Berries!” Ozwald exclaimed, running to one of the trees.

Blanche turned to find a coffee table, and on it sat a suspicious looking bowl of petunias. Blanche starred at it for a second, expecting it to do something…well…suspicious, like lash out or some even more horrid unspeakable act. But it just sat there, doing absolutely nothing, as it probably had for eons, or however long this little enchanted place had been there, unseen by human eyes and untrodd by human (or orangutan) feet. This only heightened Blanches anticipation that it might suddenly break from that long sullen cycle of silence. But contrary to her instinct, the bowl of petunias did nothing, it just sat there, perfectly content in its state of deathly yet torturous stillness. “What in the world are you doing Blanche?” Ozwald beckoned, “Why are you standing there looking at that pot of flowers? Come on let’s go explore this place.”

“Ok, ok” said Blanche, as she struggled to break herself free of the half-conscious daze she had been drawn into, her eyes being fixed in a deep gaze of contemplation, she somehow felt eternally connected in some way, irresistibly bound to this opponent drenched in tranquility, and powerless to escape. Finally she came to her senses and slowly drifted back to reality. “Geese Blanche what was that all about?” “I don’t know Ozwald? It’s that bowl of petunias, it just caught my attention for some reason, I couldn’t take my mind off of it. Well let’s go, huh?” and they began to skip down a well-worn path.

They laughed and joked, pointing out all kinds of strange little animals and weird probably undiscovered plants of all kinds “we could be famous Blanche! I bet no one has ever seen this place before.” After walking for sometime, and saying nothing, Blanches thoughts began to drift back to the suspicious looking bowl of petunias. She had felt, when in its presence; as though she had been trapped in a hypnotic gaze with it since the dawn of time, and yet was perfectly content to go about doing so forever. As if she was staring into the eternities.

After walking for some time they came upon a little cottage in a grotto amid some scrub oak, and a path just beyond it, leading into the thick dark forest.

 “Let’s go and see if anyone lives here Blanche.Like a handful of dwarves or a beautiful white skinned girl?”

 “Yah right, ok, let’s go and check it out. Why do I get the suspicion that I’m going to regret this?”

Blanche and Ozwald cautiously approached the little hand carved wooden door, and Ozwald, with utmost enthusiasm, gave it a good knock, to which the door promptly flew open to reveal a furry little creature, somewhat resembling a hamster, with beady little eyes a pointy nose and a large smile, who looked far to small to be the original occupant of his disproportioned dwelling.

 “Come on in friends! Welcome! Welcome! Sit down make yourselves at home I hope you like crapleberry jam.” This did not sound to appealing to Blanche, who had a feeling of uneasiness and abhorrence for this pungent little creature. Ozwald however graciously gobbled up several slices of toast and its odd condiment.

 “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Narfy Bumpkin, known to the natives around here as ‘the great stupid.’ I haven’t had any guests in ages, in fact most of my crapleberry jam has long gone bad because I just have to much to eat it all myself.”

Ozwalds facial expression immediately turned from satisfied to disgruntled as he clutched his discontent stomach and tried to disregard his sudden nausea.

“The great Stupid?’ isn’t that a bad thing?” Blanche said, “You act as though being so deemed by your apparently unfriendly neighbors, is a compliment?”

“Oh they don’t know anything, you see, they just don’t understand, I am an inventor, my IQ is vastly superior to those savages in the woods. They just can’t appreciate my genius, which is why I live here, alone.”

“But this house is so big, and well, you’re so small, how is that, I mean did someone else live here before you?”

“Oh no! I built it myself. You see no one else could have been capable of mastering such an architectural phenomenon, way ahead of its time.”

“Uhah” Blanche said questioningly as she looked around the room to find beams being held together with clay and bits of twine, not a single ninety-degree angle to be found, the whole thing looking as if it would topple at any time.

“Yep I found the plans for it floating in a pond outside some years ago, see here they are.” As Narfy, shuffled through some piles of scattered notes and papers then handed them what appeared to be a copy of the blueprints for Buckingham Palace.

“Of course I made a few modifications, based on available resources and changes I thought would be better. Pretty good huh?”

Blanche by this point was beginning to think it was time to get going, that this self-proclaimed inventor was a few gears shy of his clock, but she turned to find Ozwald, in a not so skeptical fascination with the many half done contraptions scattered around the cottage. Having completely forgotten about his stomach which previously did not agree with him, Ozwald was intently studying the gadgets which now gathering dust, were obviously started long ago, but because of forgetfulness and disorganization, had never been finished.

“Yes architecture is one of my lesser hobbies. My most favorite things to do are crocheting, studying the ancient archeological finds of this magical land, and I have always been most fascinated with the breeding rituals of the many varieties of poinsettias.”

“What?!” said Blanche as Narfy went over to assist Ozwald in his attempt to assemble some gears together.

“Oh, the other day I found a piece of plywood on the bank of the little brook, which I think confirms my long suspected theory of the origins of this land.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but humor me.”

“Well the natives here grow peanut plants which, I think anyway, have been here far longer than we have. Which leads me to believe that this entire world was created by some sub species of Elephant who built ships and traveled here anciently. Their intelligence being vastly superior to all but perhaps that of myself, allowed the peanut bushes which they initiated to thrive long after they were gone.”

“But the only water here is that little brook out there… wait why am I encouraging this conversation, Ozwald! It’s ti…”

“Oh but it was probably once a torrent of raging water, that they could have easily sailed down to here.”

“Ok, Ozwald it’s time for us to be leaving now.”

But it was too late, for Ozwald who had overheard that part of the conversation, had become interested and left his intent inquiry of the machinery to participate in the discussion. Ozwald asked “well do you know where the river leads to, maybe you could travel upstream to find where the elephant people came from, and maybe some are still there?! You could connect the gap between thousands of years of mystery and find out where you all came from!”

“Well the native won’t go past the forest edge because they consider it sacred ground from whence the creators came. And I am just far to busy for that kind of doddling. Besides I can’t go very far hiking, my blood sugar gets low, and I perspire.”

“You mean to tell me no one has gone beyond the brook out there?” said Blanche.”

“Nope, I am on a breakthrough with many inventions, I have so many books to read, I learn a lot. Like for instance Blanche, did you know that in a place called Australia the toilet water swirls the opposite direction than all the other continents on this one world.”

“What? You call that knowledge? Wait how did you know that?”

“See, here it is.”

As he handed her a book entitled ‘Down Under-everything you need to know about plumbing in Australia,’ one of the many books on his shelves, all of which looked long out of print.

“Where did you get these books? They are from my world.”

“I found them. Oh scattered here and there every which way, out in the woods.”

“Are there any books in your archive about how to get out of this accursed place?”

“There is no way out, you are here forever.”

“No way, you must be joking, there has to be a way?”

“Nope, ‘fraid not, but that is perfect because you can stay and be my assistants, I am working on an invention that will make your bread all warm and toasty, but wont burn it to a crisp like the fire does.”

“You mean like a toaster?”

“What? Hey blanche guess what, this morning… I lowered my cholesterol!”

“…Fascinating…Well I’m terribly sorry Narfy Bumpkin, but we must be going.”

“What for, do you have some pressing appointment perhaps? Oh tonight you can stay for dinner. I made poppy seeds in Bo Bo sauce on chunky Crapperjam balls. Yes I know what your thinking… not only is he a genius inventor but an excellent chef too!”

“Actually that’s not what I was thinking, at a…”

“Go ahead Ozwald try some, they’re delicious!”

“Ozwald, remember what the last thing you ate here did;”

As he was raising a heaping spoonful to his mouth, and he quickly changed his mind.

“Well the Great Stupid, we really must be going now, it was nice to meet you.”

And Blanche began to get up and head for the door, followed quickly there after by Ozwald.

“No! Wait! I can help, remember I told you there’s no way out, but here (as he waddled on over to the counter and picked up what appeared to be an old broken toaster) I have invented this time machine, it took me forever to build it.”

“Umm… It doesn’t look safe. I’m not sure if we sho…”

“Safe! Of course it’s safe! I built it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“With this time machine you can go back to before you came here and then this whole thing never would have happened.”

“Well come to think of it, I do wish we had never come here.”

“Good! Here, now we just push a few buttons and, let’s see where’s that switch?”

Narfy was now fuddling with an increasingly temperamental contraption. Strange noises and flashes of light began to get louder and louder.

“Oh darn it where did I put that button, we need to set it to yesterday, but what time…?”

“Oh! Uh we’ll be just fine on our own! It looks like you are having problems with that thing. Quick Ozwald let’s go! Out the door!”

The machine had begun a high-pitched screech, that got higher and higher.

“Oh here it is, ok…”

“Now Ozwald!”

Blanche and Ozwald lunged out the front door and into a ditch, covering their heads with their arms, just as the Time machine erupted into a huge fiery ball that was visible… from space. Ozwald not far behind barely made it out the door in time, but all the hair on his back was singed off. When the smoke settled they discovered that Narfy Bumpkin was dead. There was nothing remaining of ‘The Great Stupid’ or his poorly designed little shack laboratory thingy. All that remained on the former site was the cover to one of his books entitled “The struggles and lives of single cat-fish” which they used as a tomb stone, and had a brief mourning with probably the shortest Eulogy in history.

“We barely made it out alive Ozwald. Well let’s go see if we can find our way out of here, shall we?”

And they began to walk down the little crooked path into the black jungle. Meanwhile back at the entrance portal, still sat the suspicious looking bowl of petunias, wallowing in its seclusion. It begins to continue to do nothing. But then… just as we begin to rejoin our heroes in the jungle… suddenly… While our backs are turned, the suspicious looking bowl of petunias…still does nothing, as it always has. Leaving our heroes to wander off into the jungle, alone.

The Adventures of Blanche and Skiperdoo- Episode VI Blanche awakens “The”

     One Lovely spring morning in the beautiful forest of whauppul Jauppu in some part of the southeast corner of Middlesex England, Blanche and Skipperdoo were enjoying a relaxing walk through the pretty pink flowering trees, to find the perfect picnic spot. After enjoying the different arrays of plantish beauty they picked out just such a spot in the shade of a not-there tree. As they went to sit down they saw a clan of moss bunny’s bouncing about. They stopped to watch there new fuzzy and adorable friends, but when they turned around to start their long awaited feast, they found that it had been carried off by a colony of ants. “Oh dear! Lets go out in search of some nuts and berries skiperdoo, so as to see that we don’t starve.”

            So Blanche and her stupid companion went on a quest to find another source of vittles. After several hours of no luck they stumbled upon a deep pit, shrouded in mist which descended into the earth, for as far as the eye could see. Blanche dropped a rock down the chasm to see if she could hear it hit the bottom, but all the cave uttered in return was a deathly cold silence. “Come on Skip, lets go down and see if there are some nuts and berries down there.” (Now at this point if Skipperdoo could talk he would have said something like, “you’re an idiot… I hate you.” But he can’t so he barked).

            Blanche began her cautious descent down into the billowing cavern, which seemed to be a portal to the center of the earth, one that had not been disturbed by outsiders since the creation thereof. There were many strange creatures in the cave, including a species of mold, which had the power to cure lactose intolerant patients, which blanche and Skippy passed right by, completely oblivious to its medicinal properties. It eventually got to the point where Blanche and Skip were cold, tired, very hungry and very lost, not knowing weather they had been down there for hours or days, for there was no sunlight.

            Suddenly there came a gurgling rumble from somewhere in the chasm, it was the most terrifying thing Blanche had ever heard. What was it! Had they awakened something that most definitely did not want to be disturbed? Then as they were attempting to get out of the cave as fast as they could there came a voice, the most eerie, scratchy, evil sounding voice that could possibly be imagined. “Who dares enter my domain! Speak or die!” was a voice which pierced Blanche to the core and filled her with fear. Out of the pit rose a creature so fowl, so terrible that the thing would have made the devil himself tremble. The eyes screamed mal-intent, and there was hatred in the very breathe of it. It was so terrifying that Blanche could provide no description of it whatsoever, indeed there were no words in the English language, or any other tongue to describe its horribleness, but instead is left completely to the imagination. In fact Blanche could not even think of anything to call this new foe except only that of “The”.

            Blanche picked up her now passed out puppy and ran faster than she had ever run before up to the surface, with “The” in hot pursuit, gurgleing and screaming like a banchee. She reached the surface and took refuge under an umbrella. When “The” came to the surface for the first time in eons, the sun was so new and bright that it burned his eyes out, and the smell “The” brought which had been lying dormant for so long, killed all surrounding plant life. Finally Blanche saw “The” in the full majesty of The’s horribleness.

It was written, in some ancient native texts, suspected to be myth that “The” was the most wretched creature in the universe and had a deep knowledge of all miserable, dingy, pungent, malicious and criminal things that could be conceived. He reaked with all manner of disease, like the black plague, (and athletes foot), which he spread like wildfire in the 1300’s, and was in the workings of some of the most wicked practices in History. It is also widely speculated that “The” played a major role in the start of the French Revolution, and is also credited for the invention of the rubber raft as well as the grass roof, of which “The” denies any affiliation.

            No one has been able to explain exactly why “The” is so evil. Although many believe that this rage is derived from jealousy because of the fact that “The’s” cousin “It” (who is substantially better looking) landed a leading role in the smash hit comedy “The Adams Family” but no other reasonable explanation has been given for this behavior other than that “The” is mean because he can be.

 “The” told Blanche that because she had entered his domain, she must suffer the pains of a most gruesome death. “The” declared that on the morrow, at exactly 7:00 in the morning, Blanche would have to engage in a duel with “The” to the death, gladiator style.

The two opponents were placed in separate tents for the night, in preparation for the battle that would surely ensue the following morning. As Blanche sat, contemplating her fate, her whole life seemed to flash before her eyes. All the great adventures that her and skipperdoo had experienced up to this point, all the memories and artifacts they had collected, her late husband, the farm, her childhood, parents, that gum ball that was still sitting on her dresser after two years, “I should finish that,” she thought to herself, and then she realized that there was not much time left, just a few short hours and Blanche would fight her last fight. For “The’s” powers were far beyond those of her own, she had never come across an opponent like “The” and had absolutely no chance of survival. This was sure to be the end of her.

She said her goodbyes to Skiperdoo and slowly drifted off to sleep, finally coming to terms with her inevitable destiny, she realized that she had lived a good life and was at peace with the world, she was ready.

Finally seven o’clock came and Blanche woke ready to face “The” and at least go out with a bang! Die with her boots on so to speak, but out on the battlefield there was silence, as “The” had snuck off in the dead of night to fulfill his life long dream of performing in the musical play “The Nutcracker” but not before eating Skipperdoo, along with the usual bowl of breakfast Wheaties.  (Yes this time Skipperdoo is really dead)

Blanche was absolutely flabbergasted. As she returned home without her lifelong annoying little friend trying to piece together all the culminating events which led up to this surprising twist, all the while thinking “what just happened?” she stumbled upon an orangutan who was attempting to lob off his own arm with a grapefruit. She new immediately that the Orangutan had special powers, for he could make toast, and Blanche had never met an Orangutan who could make toast before (come to think of it, Blanche had never met an orangutan period) so naturally it must be of some magical value. She asked Ozwald, as she so deemed him, to join her in her travels, and become her sidekick, she also told him of all the events, which had just transpired, and about “The” and Ozwald agreed to join her.

Not much is known of the fate of “The” although it is widely rumored that “The” was cast in the play “The Nutcracker” and it was a huge success. “The” is now believed to have landed a role in the popular play “beauty and the beast” where “The” was cast in as Bell, and is everybody’s favorite.

As we return to Blanche and her newfound friend Ozwald, they are just returning home to Blanche’s beloved farm. And as they enter there is a clash of light as the red vacuum from episode 3 transforms the wall into a brilliant gateway, which appears to be some kind of portal to another world. Little did Blanche know, that a toast making Orangutan just happened to be the only key to unlock the powers of the vacuum (we told you the vacuum would come in handy).

Blanche and Ozwald starred in awe at this new find, then together linked arms and stepped through the door of their next adventure into the unknown…..

Episode V- Blanche and Skiperdoo and the powers of powerness

So anyway there they were, galumphing through the woods, Skiperdoo was smashing daisies as he usually does on their galumphing trips. They were singing the Slavic National anthem for no apparent reason, when Blanche stumbled upon a mighty boulder in the middle of Kentucky blue grass. On it sat a crumpet, which she promptly took for medicinal purposes. Skiperdoo got a little crazy and fastened some branches to his head to look like a reindeer, (too many daisy’s I guess).

            They came to a large clearing in the woods, and there was an old man with long white hair and a long white beard. He was wearing nothing but a metallic silver loincloth, and had clearly missed his annual shower day. As they approached him they noticed he was whiffing smelling salts, and humming a tune which very closely resembled Pink Floyds “Dark side of the moon.”

            “Hello! Old man,” Blanche said to him, and he began to laugh historically. (Not hysterically mind you, for it was an historic moment, no one quite knows why).

“I know you Blanche, I have been waiting for you to come…he he he!”

“What? Who are you old man? And how do you know my name?”

“Woof!”

“Your right Skiperdoo, he is an enchanter and knows all.”

“Actually I just looked it up in the phone book… roast squirrel?” as he handed her a stick with a very charcoaled looking late squirrel.

“No thank you. Old man by what name are you known?”

“I am Smitty Von Yagerminjensen, but the woodland creatures and my manicurist call me bill.”

“What? What does bill have to do with Smitty Von Yag… whatever your name was?”

“Well… come to think of it, my financial adviser also calls me Bill… But never mind that! Blanche you sneaky old hag, you were trying to distract me to steal my magic chunky-O’s. Well you can’t have them! I already ate them, Ha!”

“What! No! I don’t want any of your cereal old man, I just want to know why I am here, what do you want of me?”

“Why do you keep calling me old man? Look at you, your know spring Chicken either. Bytheway, what are you doing this weekend miss? Eh eh!”

“Ew! No! Tell me why you have brought me here or we shall leave!”

“Well, I am getting frail in my old age and need someone to bathe me…

(Blanche Cringes with a horribly disgusted and contorted face)

You see I can’t reach this spot on my back anymore and…”

“Sick! We’re leaving! Come on Skippy, spit that squirrel out, you don’t know where it’s been.”

“No! Wait! I have some advice for you Blanche. I perceive you have great potential, and great powers!”

“Well, I am the PTA president back home…”

“You must choose your path Blanche, you may use your greatness for good of for evil. I can help you learn to master and control your abilities, for only four easy payments of $ 29.95.”

“What! $ 29.95, but um…”

“All right! All right, fine, just give me that stupid crumpet, and we’ll call it even, I havn’t had anything but roast squirell in years. And what about Skiperdoo, Does he have any special powers?”

“Ummm…. He can bark in 52 different languages, and 170 different sub-dialects.”

“…………Oh……….Fascinating… anyway, here take this sparkly purple cloak, it will help you in your travels.”

“Wow! A purple cloak, is it magic?”

“Actually! It’s really a cheap trinket! But the squirrels seem to like it.”

“Oh…”

“My late wife knitted it herself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, how did she die?”

“Oh she’s not dead, she’s just late. She used to go on long walks to pick nuts and berries, and just one day, she never came back, I’ve waited and waited, dinner is cold by now.”

“She never came back?”

“Nope, see, she decided at the age of 65 that she would walk five miles every day. She would be 82 now, and 31,046 and a quarter miles away. I don’t know where the heck she is. I ain’t seen her in 17 years. Sigh.”

“Well thank you for the cloak.”

“You must choose Blanche, balance your chi, and harness your ultimate powers! Choose between good and evil, light or dark, Black or white, life and death, rice and beans…”

“What? Rice and beans?”

(The old man holds out two bowls)

“Well, which will it be rice or beans?”

“Um, I’ll take the rice I guess.”

“Ah… Then I shall have the beans.”

As they sat a while eating their bowls of food the old man paused, looked up and said,

 “I’m sorry Blanche but you have chosen poorly, I am ashamed, and I sense much conflict of judgment in you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You should have never let me have the beans, now you shall unleash a power to great and terrible to bear!”

(FART!!! Skiperdoo faints)

“I warned you, last time I had one that big, the squirrels were out for hours. Well Blanche, this is but the first step in your magical quest; use your feelings in good judgment. Now go.”

Blanche Dawned her cloak, picked up her furry companion and left Bill to his smelling Salts.

A few hours later Blanche and skiperdoo (who had awoke by this time) stumbled upon a half of a large heard of cattle, or better known as a not so large heard of cattle, grazing in the southeast portion of the west corner on the northern hills. They were prostrate on their backs, and all in the attitude of attempting to walk crab style while singing Khumbia.

Suddenly Skiperdoo had a stupid idea. While Blanche had her back turned powdering her nose, Skippy jumped on one of the cows and rode it off a cliff into a deep cavern of natural springs. Blanche turned to find her little buddy drowned in the billowing deep.

Blanche new she had to go on without him. The mega Stores Grand sale was just miles away through the dark forest, and everything was 70% off for that day only!

So leaving her furry little friend in his watery grave she trudged through the dark thorn filled forest, fighting danger and evil along her way, including a giant ear of corn.

When she reached the edge of the thicket, she found skiperdoo lying in a puddle of mud, with a note, which read,

“You dropped this- signed the old man”

So Blanche picked up her stunned little friend, who had vowed never to go cliff diving again, or bull riding for that matter, and the two of them walked off into the sunset, to the Stores Grand sale.

Episode IV- Son of the narwhal

At the bottom of the mazzlewanny trench at the deepest, darkest, most gloomy, and somewhat pleasantly jovial, part of Lake Tweed, (Not to be confused with Lake Theed, which rests bubbly at the top of mount Zap, on it’s side, (no one knows how)) son of the Narwhal sat wallowing in bitterness, having returned from receiving his false degree in Agricultural law at a prestigious university, to find his mother slain by an unknown attacker.

(How a Narwhal received passage into an accredited school dermatologists have yet to explain. Perhaps it is because he disguised himself as Lord Tennyson and applied cocoa butter to his face.)

Son of the Narwhal, or Riley, as we will call him just this once, sat contemplating who could have knocked off Ma. He determined that this foe must have been specially trained at fighting Narwhals, as well as Walrus’s and the like, for his Mother had never died before, so had obviously never encountered so great an opponent. Or at least one who could not be easily dissuaded with a small sum of devilled eggs divided into thirds. Using deductive reasoning, Son of Narwhal decided the assassin was a middle-aged woman of 82. He also determined her name was Blanche, as she dropped a note written in sideways reformed Aramaic.

 Being a big Humphrey Bogart fan he happened to know a little sideways Reformed Aramaic and interpreted the note to say, “gone shopping- Blanche”

            Son of the Narwhal was furious, he began vigorously cleaning everything in sight, (which is something he did when stressed) he mopped the floor and polished his mothers old China Cabinet. In his flustered O.C.D. state he failed to take his cherry pie out of the oven and it was horribly burnt. That was it, he decided he had no other choice but to avenge his mothers’ death and kill her assailants. So he packed a nap-sack, fed his sea cucumber and locked up never to return again (at least until spring cleaning).

Meanwhile, Blanche and skiperdoo were on an ice-fishing trip after visiting the Czarina of Tokyo, about the economic benefits of Kiwi farming.

“Wow, that’s a whopper!” as Blanche reeled in a king Salmon. Skiperdoo was pleasantly sloshing in the puddles with his galoshes. They had a jolly time making a snowman. The whole afternoon was very aesthetically pleasing… until!

The Son of the Narwhal silently floated through the dark murky water, in search of his newfound victims. He made not a sound, nor disturbed the water, in trying to keep concealed until the right moment, to take them by surprise.

Then Blanche thought she saw something far off in the distance, come up out of the water, like a fin. She paid no attention to what she saw, because she was to busy banging the Salmon’s head on a rock.

Then She heard a deafening and bloodcurdling roar, like a bull. Apparently the Narwhal had stubbed his sort-of-toes on a wall of ice. He was stuck, behind a wall of ice still left over from the ice age. He had to wait for global warming. Finally 3 days later, (it melted fast) he was free from his icy confinement to do what he had come to do. For some reason Blanche and skiperdoo were still on the little boat, after three days. The Narwhal began to increase in speed, he became faster and faster. He put forth his great horn and let out another terrible roar.

As the Narwhal came careening toward Blanche and skiperdoo, in a dead charge, and just as all hope for the two heroes seemed lost, and it appeared that they weren’t getting out of this alive...

WHAAMMM!!!!

“Sir, we’ve hit something!”

“What? An iceberg?”

“I don’t know sir, but we’re sinking.”

“No, that’s impossible, this ship is unsinkable! Quick cabin boy, go straighten the deck chairs.”

“Yes sir, but shouldn’t I get the rafts ready?”

“No I’ll do that, you just worry about those chairs.”

Yes, as you might have guessed, at this very moment there was a group of zealous and fanatical history fans reenacting the Titanic tragedy (They having done Civil War reenactments so many times they were bored of it.) with a real ship at 1/3 scale and authentic wardrobe and all.

The Narwhal was snuffed out in the very climax of his would be victory by none other than the Titanic look-alike. A very uneventful death if you ask me. But he did leave a good dent.

Blanche being a quick thinker as she was took action. She helped many of the victims of the wreck into lifeboats, and boosted their spirits. She saved dozens.

 Blanche had been on the college journalism team under the pen name Molly Black, so upon returning to America she was deemed the “Unsinkable Molly Black” for her heroics, it being a catchier name than Blanche for media ratings. The governor awarded her a trophy, before she and skiperdoo returned home.

The tattered corpse of Son of the Narwhal slowly sank to the black depths of the deep blue sea, never to avenge his late mother. And Blanche and Skippy were never aware of the deadly fate that was so near them from the terror that had been pursuing them for days.

Episode III- Blanche and the Natives

One fine summer day Blanche and Skiperdoo packed up and dawned their fuzzy mittens and overcoats, it being freezing cold outside, and made the long journey to attend to the plight of some native cliff dwelling people on the southern most part of a tiny island, just west of the mainland of a larger island nearer Guatemala.

These industrious peoples had built a large city right out of the side of the cliffs. The buildings were held together and connected only by bamboo, as well as magnetically reinforced titanium cables, artificially made of bamboo.

They harvested honey plants and ate the roots from the side of the cliffs, as well as the tails of the blue-footed gecko.

 It was nearly paradise, except for a chronic problem. On a routinely basis, almost nightly, a deranged sleepwalker, sometimes dozens, would stagger over one of the rope bridges and plummet to their untimely demise. The generally accepted consensus among the villagers on these sleepy suicidal jumpers was that they must be dead; the bodies having been dashed against the jagged rocks below, it seemed like the logical conclusion. The statistics were catastrophic; in the past eight months they had lost nearly one. But their culture having kept no records, never knew by morning who was gone and who remained.

Blanche founded the first opu-opu community lemonade stand (for such was the name by which they were known.) and the problem was solved. She then told them of an Elvis Presley Concert in Memphis, which the villagers ecstatically decided unanimously to attend; they having no king of their own on a count that he had fallen to his death two weeks earlier without the knowledge of his people.           

 With the Opu-Opu gone, Blanche decided to take advantage of their hospitality and make waffles. She, while cooking the waffles, began to rummage through some of the natives effects. She found an old gene lamp, rubbed it and out flowed a gene, telling her he would grant her three wishes. Not being a fool Blanche knew there was no such thing as gene’s and told him “I don’t believe in gene’s, back in that lamp you!” and promptly hurled it out the window to its untimely demise. She then found a red vacuum, and decided to keep it. You never know when a red vacuum could come in handy.

She climbed down a rope ladder, carrying Skiperdoo in the pocket of her pantaloons. She climbed into a glass bottom canoe and was off down the river, far below the cliffs.

 Being old and with failing eyesight she did not realize that the glass bottom canoe had no glass at all. And they began to sink. They were however saved by a three-finned blue turtle. However only having three fins, he had not the proper propulsion and therefore eventually went in circles.

 He was the last of his kind, all the others having died. One can only get so far on 3 fins and natural selection had not been kind to them, having waited several thousand years for a fourth fin to appear.

On a side note Skiperdoo fell into the water and was devoured by sharks. So Blanche slowly drifted home on the back of the blue turtle. She became so hungry that she opened and ate everything in the red vacuum bag. When they reached land she gave the turtle her shoelace as a token of her good faith. She then ate the first turnip she came upon. But was chased off of the beach by a blind four horned cow named little Netty.

After wandering through a dark and dreary forest for who knows how long, filled with creatures, old hieroglyphs and signs of ancient barbaric people, she eventually came upon civilization. She attended a dinner theater on the edge of the dark forest. It was spectacular and well worth the ticket price. She met many people who complimented her on her red vacuum, how pristine it looked and made some new Mongol friends.

She returned home with a torn dress, a full stomach, some new native friends and a brand new old red vacuum. And also with the rest of Skiperdoo, for contrary to popular belief, he was not eaten entirely. The sharks only chomped off his back end, therefore forcing Blanche to have to get one of those little pet wheelchairs for animals with no back legs, for them to scoot around in, by walking with their front legs. It was a wonderfully emotionally exhilarating adventure for the both of them. And they fell asleep in each other’s arms watching Jeopardy.

EPISODE II- BLANCHE AND THE MYSTERIOUS GNARFLING CUMQUAT

Blanche awoke one day to find a man dressed in a plaid grass hula skirt, standing at her bedside. He startled her by saying “I am Gnefkin! Lord of Cumquats!” and he handed her a custom made cumquat. He then serenaded her with his accordion but then disappeared by running smack into the wall and turning into a dust bunny. He was then carried away by the wind, and a magical rainbow. She starred in wonder and amazement at this newfound gift. What was a Cumquat?

She set it aside and began to do her morning Jazzercising with her new “Tina and the fuzzy chicks” workout video. Suddenly the cumquat began to gurgle and golup. She at first paid it no mind but then it began to bounce around the house and it broke her grandmother’s old antique vase. So Blanche went straight to the book fare and bought “how to control a cumquat.”

She returned to find that the cumquat had painted the Sistine chapel on her ceiling with nothing more than toothpaste and raspberry jam. He had also erected an alter to burn incense to the Lord of the produce section, in her front yard. And he turned her horse cart into a monument to the great and terrible Bill.

She decided that the cumquat had to go. Skiperdoo tried to help but just received an enormous blow to the head by the cumquat. After many different attempts, including casting a spell, Blanche finally lured the cumquat into a cage with a floppy disc and a paring knife. Once inside the cage it stopped moving entirely. In fact the cumquat made absolutely no noise whatsoever. Blanche was satisfied with the new disposition of this little terror, and became at ease after a while.

Then strange things began to happen around the farm. First the chickens got chicken pox and died of pneumonia. Then a large gapping hole appeared in the middle of blanche’s flowerbed. She went out to the barn to find one of the three new horses completely bald and as smooth as a baby’s bottom. There was also a monkey throwing marbles into a bucket of water, just outside the fence.

Blanche became suspicious, and sought advice from a mental health care provider. The first appointment went well, although Blanche had used up her entire piggy bank, which she was going to donate to bald women. But upon arrival for her second appointment she found that the psychiatrist had mysteriously died. He had choked on a plastic spoon and drank an entire bottle of rubbing alcohol to sterilize the dirty spoon. He died in 3 seconds of internal hemorrhaging.

She went home in sadness, and walked in to find the house dead silent, and the cumquat sitting ever so still in the cage with a malicious air about him.

 “What have you done to Skiperdoo, what did you do to the shrink! And my house! Why are you doing these things to me, have you no morals at all? Did you ever have a mother!?” The cumquat starred at her and Blanche could hear a faint mischievous gnome like chuckle.

 She decided that the cumquat was the cause of all this folly and must therefore die; so she had cumquat for dinner, it was delicious. So Blanche was once again at peace on the little farm, after she found Skiperdoo… who did not die; but was buried up to his ears in jell-o by the voodoo curse of said late cumquat. All is well… but some say, to this day, when the moon is high and the tub is full, if you listen carefully, one can hear the distant and ever so faint chuckle of the cumquat.

Episode I- Blanche and Skiperdoo vs. the Narwhal

Long ago, (probably sometime in the 1970’s) somewhere in Kansas, on an old contemporary farm, in a little old farmhouse lived an old widow of 13 years named Blanche. Her late husband had settled that land and built up their farm back in 1921. He asked her to marry him in 23 and the two lived a blissful marriage together until his death in 1964. Blanche had reserved herself to a life of solitude in mourning, with only her little dog Skipperdoo for company.

The fiery spunk and sense of adventure she once possessed in her youth had long dwindled, leaving nothing but fond memories of her younger years. You see she had been the stubborn one, her husband being quieter, gentile and reserved. She was the spitfire then, but time had made her more like him. Little did she know that the need for that sense of adventure would soon be rekindled once again.

 With the fire crackling, Blanche sat in the warm dim light, on her comfy 3-legged stool, with her head in a bucket of anchovies, (to reduce wrinkles) reading “The Hound of the Baskervilles” by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

The phone beeped, (Blanche had a chronic superstition of ringing, it signifying the end of cherry farmers everywhere.) she answered it. It was of course her cousin Fran, who was calling to announce she had just won the Glasgow gin rummy contest. Well of course Blanche was jealous, on account that Fran had won the Senior Citizen cricket tournament in Cambridge the week before.

Suddenly there was a scratch at the door, so Blanche hung up on her chattering relative, and opened the door… there was no one there… she looked around, but then looked down. There was Skiperdoo, her little dog (which by the way was a crossbreed of an Irish wolfhound and a teacup poodle) don’t ask what it looked like, it’s simply dreadful.) Skiperdoo was covered head to toe in slime. She had been playing in the bogs again, taunting the alligators. (Skiperdoo was good at that) “Oh! Skippy, dirty again are we?” so Blanche promptly threw Skiperdoo into a bucket of soapy water and thrashed her vigorously up and down the washboard. She then threw Skiperdoo into her old crank powered dryer.

All was going well, when suddenly the old appliance began to sputter and cough. Sparks flew everywhere and the old dryer exploded into a huge ball of fire that was visible from space. It consumed their little old house, and the entirety of the 40 acre farm on which Blanche’s late husband Herbert worked 43 years to complete, killing the chickens, frying the eggs, and killing Blanch’s three horses, Ned, Kilby and the third of which who’s name was never documented on record. (And if it was the record was burned up.)

Skiperdoo came out unscathed but a bit static.

Needless to say Blanche needed a new dryer. She decided to take in the warranty and retrieve a new solar powered portable dryer.

So to avoid expensive shipping costs, Blanche purchased two 350-dollar cruise tickets on the Queen Marry, to personally make the trip to Tasmania to pick up the new contraption. Her old sense of adventure and need for a challenge was beginning to come back. Youth was breathed into her again. Blanche was once a great fighter, trained by the masters, and felt her long dormant skills returning.

On the way she met Dracula on the ship and threw him overboard to the fishes. Thus Dracula suffered a very uneventful death at the hands of Blanche, after centuries of a reign of tyranny in Transylvania. But this event is not important in this period of history and is not pertinent to the story, thus we will speak no more of it.

Anyway She went to Tasmania, took some lovely pictures of the wildlife, such as kelp, sea cucumbers and the voracious wild mongoose. After picking up her dryer and having a run in with the Chinese mafia over a voided check, Blanche boarded the Ship for the journey home.

Unfortunately Blanche drifted into a deep sleep, and when she awoke she found that she had missed her stop, and had ended up somewhere on the southeast coast of the arctic wastes, or more so, south southwest, and somewhat north nearer Norway, or Dublin or someplace like that. And what’s worse, she noted that her dentures were missing.

She exited the ship, all other passengers having contracted the dreaded Scouitzkylumpingitis syndrome virus, highly contagious, with a tendency to be somewhat on the benign side of malignant.

She came to the conclusion that this arctic wasteland was completely devoid of life. So having found a suitable souvenir shop, she bought a small bag of dried peas for the road.

While walking along, and balancing on the edge of a cliff, she saw out of the corner of her eye, Skiperdoo vigorously chasing a lemming, which he chased right over the cliff. Skiperdoo stood suspended in air for a moment, then VOOSH! Fell like a rock as gravity took its course. Blanche watched in terror as Skiperdoo fell hundreds of feet into the icey cold water below. Determined to save her fuzzy little friend, Blanche dug her boney old, fingers, which were callused, worn, yet tough as nails from almost 60 years of playing the piano, into the side of the cliff and began the long descent to rescue her floating comrade.

Right as she reached the bottom of the cliff she stopped to admire some lovely purple daisy’s on the ground, having forgotten what she was doing, on account that she had suffered a minor stroke back in 71 and had Alzheimer’s. My, did they smell lovely, but suddenly she was roused from her never land like state by the yapping of her drowning dog. She turned to see a large horn ascending out of the deep blue abyss. Why it was a Giant Narwhal, Blanche remembered them from her high school wildlife Biology class. It had come to eat Skiperdoo.

This, now was the deciding moment, would Blanche Summon her inner crocodile hunter and defeat the Narwhal, or would she stand and watch in shock as her little pet was rent in twain and consumed by the assailing sea monster. She summoned the courage and just as the vicious creature was about to ingest the little dog, she exploded into the air with an ancient Scottish war cry and a double barrel roll, and began to beat the Narwhal with her purse filled with bricks. The Narwhal’s Long spear like horn broke off and with a stunning turn of the table and lightning reflexes, Blanche impaled the Beast with its own weapon. All was well; the Narwhal floated lifelessly in the biter cold water, now tainted red, and slowly sank to the bottom of the sea.

Blanche and Skiperdoo then caught the nearest bus home, but having no change, Blanche promised the bus driver ten percent of her second million. They returned to what was left of their little home, and Blanche and Skiperdoo together began the rebuilding process.