In this tale, Professor Shroomsky tells, in the first person, of a grand adventure with twists and turns around every bend. From Mabel to a heat wave, and ultimately, an evil plot.
Chapter One: The Trouble with Puffles
As an avid traveller, I've seen puffles for years. They make squeaking sounds and have a ruffled up hairdo... or fur pattern. Yes, I held this thought for years. I even knew that some puffles were capable of speech. I always liked puffles. They were so soft to the touch, rather warm, quite intelligent. I taught one to do my taxes. I'm forever grateful to that furball. The species as a whole have benefited me. They sure no how to season rotten bananas... ohhhh.
It's as if puffles were designed to be domesticated.
Or, so I thought.
I happened to be in South Pole City the other day, where I would see penguins and their puffles mingling in harmony.
Imagine my surprise when I saw Mabel! The glasses, the clean, well groomed fur... she looked rather like an old, stereotypical secretary. All business. That fur looked more like hair, in all honesty. That was what I could behold at first impression.
I scooted up to the puffle in question, who happened to be staring at something on the wall.
"Hello!" I greeted, in warm Christmas cheer, as was the custom I so enjoyed in December.
The puffle did not move. Reaching down to nuzzle it (I don't have hands), the puffle quickly turned and bared her teeth. What a shock!
"I don't know what you are, but I hate you already."
I blinked and rubbed my glasses on my coat. Putting them back on, I just stared.
"What are you looking at, freak?"
"Well? What are you?"
Shaking out of thought, I replied.
"I am a mushroom. Might I add that you're a good looking puffle."
The furball smiled, albeit faintly.
"I know. I get that a lot."
I blinked again. Such arrogance! Was there a thread of modesty here?
Explorer, who happened to overhear, turned to face us from across the street.
"Professor! Back away! That's Mabel you're talking to! She's evil!"
I scoffed at the statement.
"Your Highness, I know you've traveled Antarctica, but should you judge a puffle just because she's a little... um, arrogant?"
Mabel turned to me. In an almost trembly manner, she spoke.
"You j-j-just c-called h-h-him... y-your highness?"
"Well, yes ma'am. Since he owns a high ranking nobility status, he should be addressed as his title demands. I'm addressed as "Professor", after all. I earned that title, and I am respected for that."
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! HE'S AN UNWORTHY FREAK! A FREAK!"
"Mabel! I am surprised that you would speak to him like that!"
Mabel's stare went blank.
"No. You don't understand. He's my owner. I am forced to live in his home."
"So?! SO?! HE'S A FREAK! Do you remember that time, where you went to that igloo, and that ghost appeared in the kitchen?"
I shivered. I never figured out who did that................. or what did that.
"Indeed I do. It was my first paranormal experience, and hopefully, my last. You know, I still wake up screaming in the night when I have nightmares involving that ghost. The worst thing, though, was that I have to leave the light on in the hall. If you know anything about fungi, such as myself, I can only get a great sleep and retain my health when I rest in a damp, shaded environment. I've fallen asleep in a seminar from my lack of sleep."
"Well, allow me to tell you exactly what happened and why."
Explorer screamed from across the street.
"PROFESSOR! DON'T LISTEN TO MABEL! SHE'S BRAINWASHING YOU, SWAYING YOU TOWARD HER EVIL WAYS!! DON'T BECOME A MABEL MINION!!"
I looked at Explorer.
"What in the name of compost are you talking about?! Oh, I see. The December heat must be getting to you."
Mabel called my attention back.
"He's insane! I TOLD YOU! Listen to me, and I will tell you about the ghost."
Hmm... should I listen to a puffle, or a semi-insane penguin monarch who knows what he is talking about, lest he holds a shovel?
I thought. Puffle, insane penguin? Insane penguin, puffle? Um....................
"Professor! LISTEN TO ME! I'M NOT CRAZY! SHE IS EVIL! YOU HAVE MY WORD! I PROMISE, ON ALL THAT ARE UNDER THE FAMILY SPHENISCIDAE, THAT PUFFLE IS EVIL!!!"
Hmm... he gave his word... but then... my mind flash backed to the day I tried Card-Jitsu.
He screamed "HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!! WE WEE HA!!! I gOTzz spAdeZZZZxzz!!!1!!!!1!!! WEE LOL LOLzz!!!"
The last thing I remember is a shovel upside the fruiting body.
I awoke an hour later. Sensei stood over me.
"Are you okay, gentle stir-fry? That was Explorer 767. Talked to, he was. I'm sorry you had to deal with a whack like that. It's not a card, let me assure you."
"Sweet skillets, that was painful." I said to myself. No, I shall not associate myself with anyone who whacks me with a shovel.
"Sorry Explorer!" I yelled across the road, "You whacked me with a shovel!"
"But-but b-b-but Professor!" Explorer hollered. "I-" Explorer stopped. He lacked an excuse for his shovel slam.
"DRAT YOU, EVIL FLASHBACK!" he yelled in the distance.
"He hit you with a shovel? He hits everyone with shovels. He's a freak."
"Hmm... Ma'am, you do have a point. Let's walk- I, mean... scoot. I see you move as I."
"Good... now come on. Let's talk about that ghost."
I walked away from Explorer, still recalling that nasty blow to the cap. Better to trust a well groomed furball than a shovel wielding bird... I think.
"So... you really want to know about that ghost?"
I turned around.
"What is it?" Mabel asked.
"Ma'am, I think some one's following me."
I turned around again. Nothing. I thought I saw a flash of blue and a speck of red dash behind a mailbox. Explorer, perhaps? No, I doubt he would follow me. I continued on my way. Yet, I could never shake the feeling I was being watched.
"Anyway. That ghost wasn't paranormal. It was a prank."
I looked at Mabel.
"You mean a purposeful scare and/or annoyance at the expense of others, all designed for merriment by the sick mind who did it on the victim?"
Mabel looked at me like I just spoke in a foreign tongue.
"Um, yes." she responded.
"Tell me, Mabel, who frightened me with the apparition in the mirror?"
"NO! STOP! IT'S A TRAP!"
I recognized that voice. It was Explorer, once more.
He came waddling across the street, right up to where Mabel and I were standing.
Hyperventilating, he tried to speak, but could not.
"Your Highness, I understand you don't like this puffle, but there is no need to get all in a knot about it."
"...Yes...there...is a rea...son...to...be upset about Ma...bel." Explorer gasped, between breaths.
"Your Highness, you are severely dehydrated. Fortunately, my academic experience taught me exactly what to do at a time like this."
Explorer looked at me with big eyes. He turned to a store-front wall, and much to my astonishment, he started speaking to it.
"Fellow readers, I don't like where this is going. Why don't you go get yourselves a drink of water, lest you read on and discover the rest of this unruly plot?"
"What readers? There is no text here! My oh my, you must be hallucinating, talking to a wall like that! You need to get indoors right away!" I shouted.
I had no idea just how bad this situation was.
Reaching into my coat, I checked a thermometer. The temperature was 31.7 Fahrenheit... whoa!
Chapter Two: HEAT WAVE!
"Explorer! Get indoors now! Your kind should never be out in this heat!"
I remember reading that Antarctic penguins start to have heat problems when the temperature rises near the freezing point. For Antarctica, 31.7 is blistering hot. It could be deadly.
Explorer was getting dizzy. This heat wave was starting to take a toll on the penguin.
"Heat shmeat. Mabel... is... is... is..." Explorer passed out in heat-stroke.
I quickly dragged the fallen bird into a building.
Outside, I saw vans driving through the streets. Bearing the words "Penguin Secret Agency", they had bullhorns attached to their cars, amplifying throughout the town.
"ATTENTION ALL CREATURES!" the PSA Agent screamed.
"BY ORDER OF THE DIRECTOR OF THE PSA AND THE EPF, ALL CREATURES ARE TO REMAIN INDOORS. LOCK YOUR WINDOWS AND CRANK UP THE A-C!"
I saw doors being locked, and air conditioners being cranked throughout the neighborhood. Windows were boarded and sirens were blaring. All creatures, great and small, were taking shelter from the blistering "heat" wave. This was unreal. Mabel also fled with me, and Explorer, into a nearby building. Several other penguins chose the same building. We crowded together like sardines. Everyone was taking shelter.
It didn't matter the status of the penguin. I saw that Fever guy (who everyone talks about) crowded next to a non-member. I saw a Beta hat penguin scrunched next to a penguin with nothing but a pin. Happyface was there doing CPR on Explorer.
Status meant nothing, survival was key in this heat, and this heat was rising.
I turned on a weather radio.
"A massive, dry Subtropical Jet Stream, of which has not been seen in the this continent's existence, has somehow taken a dive from farther north in the Southern Hemisphere, bringing blistering heat. Temperatures are expected to peak at 47 degrees today."
I was rather shocked. In fright, my hat fell to the ground. How could a subtropical jet stream hit Antarctica? If we were at the geographic South Pole... who knows what's happening on the continent's fringes?!
All of a sudden, a random penguin screamed: "WE'RE GOING TO DIE! DIE, BY A CRUEL TWIST OF FATE!"
Suddenly, the doors burst open, and shut back. A tall penguin, cloaked in black, almost floated into the room. He held a lollipop in his skeletal flipper, it's head outlined in a blue glow.
The room was silent. Ban?!
Yes. It was Ban. The infamous representation of the practice, the Club Penguin Grim Reaper. I cowered among the crowds of birds.
Ban looked around.
"DON'T TAKE ME!" I heard a penguin shout. "I'M DIABETIC!"
"'Tis not you I seek. I have not come in the service of The Duty. Like any nippy avian creature, I have come to seek shelter in this place. Step aside, for I am sweltering. "
Great. Now I have to share an emergency shelter with the Grim Reaper, Explorer, and about fifty other spastic penguins.
Then, the ground started to quake. Turtleheimer managed to crawl in (turtles are slow), and the door shut behind him as well. After adjusting to the crowd (and the presence of Ban), he cowered next to me, and withdrew into his shell.
Some steam rose outside, and one building tilted to the right.
"'Tis worse than I feared. " Ban turned to me. "Do you see that house? It is leaning to the right! Listen! Listen to the sound of the crust cracking! "
Ban was right. The ground was cracking! The ice caps! They were melting!
Happyface started shouted, "I'M CLAUSTROPHOBIC!! AIR!!!" and passed out. His bodyguards immediately started to revieve him.
Explorer shot up in a snap of insanity. "I SCAREZ NOTHING! EVEN YOU BECOME NAPKINS! LOOK, GLOBAL WARMING, HEATING THE NOODLES! NO, NOT GLOBAL WARMING, THE PENCIL SAY! WORSE! THERE'S FAX MACHINES AT WORK!"
The heat was really damaging Explorer... wait! He was trying to speak a message!
Well, napkins and fax machines had nothing to do with the problem at hand... I bet the noodles Explorer was screaming about is the ground.
Explorer started screaming again.
"BAH!!! NOT SUBLIMATION, LIQUEFACTION, NOODLE!!! I THE PENCIL SPEAK!!! THE NOODLEZ TAKE IN WATER AND GET ALL MUSHY, LIKE NAPKINZ!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHEEHEE!!! FAX MACHINES, DOING US TO IT!"
Fax machines? Maybe he's saying something.
"Tell me more about these Fax Machines."
"YES! MORE TELL! FAX MACHINES, DRIVING MAGIC HOT CREEK IN THE SKY! LEET PLOT, I SAY!"
...I lacked a response.
"OF NON-OFFICE INTENTIONS! FAX MACHINES, THEY WANT OUR FILE CABINETS! HAND YOUR NOODLES! I DEMAND YOUR NOODLES! FAX MACHINES, INK JETTING OUR WORLD! SINK, THE GROUND SINKS! FAX MACHINE LIQUEFACTION!!"
Ban turned to me again.
"The propeller one speaks of a magic hot creek. I presume he is screaming of yonder w-- "
"WOULD YOU QUIT SPEAKING HIGH PENGUIN LINGO, REAPER DUDE?!" hollered a spastic Macaroni Penguin a few feet away. "IT'S TAKING A TOLL ON MY EARS, NOT THAT I HAVE ANY VISIBLE ONES!"
Ban paused, his expression solemn. Just when I thought he was going to delete the spaz, Ban resumed speaking, this time with a more casual vernacular.
"I think Explorer's referring to this hot weather that's hitting us, " said Ban. Oddly, he still had his grave accent, which made him sound all the more eerie. "Template:Maybe the 'fax machines' are escaped criminals."
The weather radio grew fuzzy. I bet that the antenna was sinking in the melting ground as well. A signal made it through. It was Aunt Arctic!
"BREAKING NEWS! Temperatures should be rising to about 51 degrees by 3:00 PM this afternoon. Keep on the lookout for air raid sirens. If you hear them, allow me to repeat the drill. If the Air Raid signal is used, a Classified Van will arrive and load one hundred passengers per vehicle, eventually evacuating your area to the Bunker. Should the heat get too extreme, the Bunker will bust and sink into the ground. In that case, we'll evacuate to the Bunker Busting Bunker, in which every Antarctic resident will crowd into the megaplex. We have room for about Twelve Million creatures in either bunker, and in emergency cases, we can pack in seven million more, but like sardines."
I was scared.
Sure enough, the Air Raid sirens started. Massive vans bearing a strange logo I had never before seen filed out.
Agents held wallets bearing the same "EPF" logo. Hmm... "EPF". Emergency Prevention Facility, perhaps?
Single file, we entered the vans. The interior was blank white, with nothing on the walls or floor. More agents handed each of us blindfolds.
Ban raised his, um, flipper.
"Uh... why are we wearing these thigns again? "
The Agent in question was Rookie, I've heard about him. Apparently, he was stupid enough to close a vault that was needed to investigate. Very stupid.
"AAAAHHH!! THE GRIM REAPER! GET THAT LOLLIPOP AWAY FROM ME! IT'S STICKY! DON'T BAN ME!" Rookie screamed like a schoolgirl and fainted. More agents dragged him off.
Not wanting to question these "EPF" characters, I quickly took off my glasses and put on the blindfold. Other penguins did the same. We sat on the vans, all of us blindfolded, unaware of where the Bunker was.
It was going to be a long ride.
Chapter Three: The Ride
After about a half an hour of talking, screaming, and other panic, someone on our van (of 100) started singing.
It was a little, squeaky voice.
"99 Evil Hackers on the wall, 99 evil hackers! Take one down, slap him like a crazy person, 98 Evil Hackers on the wall!"
Explorer was starting to recover. He fell asleep.
"49 evil hackers on the wall. 49 evil hackers! Take one down, slap him like a crazy person, 48 evil hackers on the wall!"
"AAAAAHHH!!! MAKE IT STOP!" Explorer screamed. He was back to normal, indeed.
"48 evil hackers on the wall, 48 evil hackers! Take one down, slap him like a crazy person, 47 evil hackers on the wall!"
"FOR THE LOVE OF PANCAKES! SING SOMETHING ELSE! I'VE GOT A SHOVEL!" Explorer whipped out his shovel, but an "EPF" agent swiped it away.
"47 evil hackers on the wall, 47 evil hackers! Take one down, slap him like a crazy person, 46 evil hackers on the wall! EVERYBODY!"
Most people had stopped singing after fifty one evil hackers were on the wall. It took a lot of endurance to do it that long. I ceased at seventy. Ban stopped at forty seven though. Explorer started singing from infinity...
"Infinity evil hackers on the wall, infinity evil hackers! Take one down, whack him with a shovel, infinity evil hackers on the wall! Infinity evil hackers on the wall, infinity evil hackers! Take one down, smack him with a wrench, infinity evil hackers on the wall! Infinity evil hackers on the wall, infinity evil hackers! Take one down, lash him with a wet noodle, infinity evil hackers on the wall!"
... but then he remembered that it would take an infinite amount of years to complete that version of the song and then stopped at, well... infinity.
We were bored. Explorer had an idea.
"I know! Let's scream random phrases! You go first!" Explorer pointed to a skinny penguin wearing a lab coat, with brown hair and an arthritic, hunched-over appearance.
He thought a moment.
"CURSE YOU PERRY THE PLATYPUS!"
"Oooookay." Explorer stated, slightly creeped out. "Now you!" Explorer pointed to another penguin, who was quite chubby and colored orange. I suppose he was a Fever fan.
The game continued. Phrases such as "MOOOOOOOOOM, THEY'RE MAKING A TITLE SEQUENCE!", "I LIKE PIE!", "Lotsa spaghetti!", "Hey hey hey!", "What'cha doin'?", and millions others continued. Explorer kept talking to the van wall after each and every one. That penguin was crazy!
I tapped Explorer on his.... shoulder?
"Aren't you a little old enough to pretend be talking to an invisible friend?"
"Yes, yes I am!" replied Explorer enthusiastically. That was one weird penguin.
Hours and hours and hours......................... I fell asleep. We continued long into the night.
When I awoke, it was 6:00 AM. The vans screeched to a halt.
"WE'RE HERE!" an agent screamed. He stepped out... but the Bunker was halfway into the melting permafrost. Unusable.
"Nix that! Back to the vans! We're heading to the Bunker Busting Bunker!"
"Nevermind... " Ban said. Against the "EPF"'s orders, Ban stood up, lifted his lollipop, and smashed it into the ground. Ripples of light echoed out of it, and after a flash of green, we were at the Bunker Busting Bunker.
"EVERYONE OUT! You too, high and mighty." one of the "EPF" minions said, having the nerve to call Ban "high and mighty".
We filed into the Bunker Busting Bunker, and much to my astonishment, the "EPF" badge was above its golden door, and was flying on two flags at the top. Several penguins patrolled sentry points on the roof, and the words "Fort Lox" were written on the sides. It was quite a sight to behold... and we were all going to have to live in it until the temperatures dropped back below twenty eight degrees for nine days.
Explorer looked toward me. "Doesn't this place ring a bell?"
It hit me! "Yes! Yes it does! I read about this in my favorite book, "Conspiracy Theories for Conspiring Creatures". I got it from SnellBook last year. I liked it so much that I bought it from the Snell-Libros."
Explorer sighed. "No. I was thinking that this was a cheap parody of Fort Knox, and that some kind of climax was going to occur here."
"Are you sure you're back to normal... if there is normal in you?" I questioned... Explorer started talking to the wall again. Insane.
Chapter Four: Fort, Sweet Fort
As Fort Lox slowly filled with new residents, we were all directed to an auditorium, where we were going to be "instructed" on how to live.
A PSA Agent walked up to the podium. Adjusting the microphone, he began. He spoke in a rather high, squeaky voice.
"All right, worthless scum. I am Deputy George II, Penguin Secret Agent in Training. You are offi-"
An "EPF" walked up to George II.
"George, they're not criminals."
"THEY'RE NOT?" George screamed over the microphone. Speaker feedback made us all cringe.
"No, they're under lock down due to excessive heat."
George turned back to us.
Everyone stared blankly at George.
"AND IF ANY OF YOU ARE CAUGHT WITH PANSIES, NIP THEM IN THE BUD! I AM ALLERGIC TO PANSIES, AND I WILL NOT TOLERATE PANSIES! DISMISSED!"
Deputy George II saluted, and we just sat there...................... and sat there.............. and sat there...........
Explorer turned to the nearest wall.
"Is it just me, or does that remind me of something familiar"...?"
That penguin... he makes me want to nip him in the bud...... wait. WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!
I hate Fort Lox.
Long had the days of outdoors passed.
Thankfully, we had things for amusement. Since Fort Lox was highly classified and everyone now knew of it, we could tour it in its entirety.
We saw amazing things.... since I'm locked in here, I'll write them.
Our tour guide put on his question mark cap and walked us through, without EPF permission.
<'Explorer and fellow readers, feel free to add more.>
"To your right, you can see the Alien, from the Ross-Well Iceberg Collision. Seriously. No Stage Planet Y there."
"OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH." the crowd murmured.
The creature looked like a human, but it was dressed in some of the thickest fur I had ever seen. It may have been a parka... but it was too skinny to be a penguin....... creepy. The Sapie Brothers looked at it too... "ERNEST SHACKLETON?!" was their comment.
"To the right, you can see the "Eager Diamond". It's a legendary CyberGem that apparently carries a horrific curse. In fact, the delivery penguin who brought it to Fort Lox crashed his van, and was forced to ride with it in the back of a moving band..... with a sitar quintet. To add insult to injury, the bad luck allowed the Sitar quintet to obtain their Big Break, and they now tour the continent as the "Twangs". Want their CD?"
The guide sneered.
Explorer turned to the Diamond and spoke to those nonexistent readers. "Wow... isn't that such a common running gag, the old voice-caused chandelier shatter? In fact, it's more of a cliche! Oh, and that 'Ross-Well Iceberg Collision' is such a cheap parody. Sometimes I feel that this entire country is so lame."
We passed a strange looking contraption. "And over here we have Suinegtnega's theorised "Dooms-Tuesday" device, the doomsday device which could only be used on a Tuesday. Offically, this can never work, though. A team of official scientists checked, but, to be honest, they couldn't work out the calculations, so they built one instead."
"What is this, a lame parody of the atomic bomb?" Explorer mumbled.
We passed a small sign tacked to the wall. "No, you N00B!" it read. "I am not a noob!" yelled Explorer at the wall. Crazy.
We turned into another room.
Here is the legendary Crystal Pelvis, which-
Penguin Micro interrupted.
"Di-d-d-di-d-d-did you s-say Crys-cr-crystal P-pel-pelvis?"
We looked at Penguin Micro.
"Th-the Pelvis was my fa-fa-ther's prized p-possession, he used it to c-call down curses on b-b-b-bad p-p-people wh-who were cruel t-to his family. When c-c-cursed, d-dishpans fell on p-people's h-heads."
"KICK 'EM IN THE DISHPAN, WHOO WHOO WHOO!" Barkjon exclaimed, randomly.
"He carved-d it out of a s-s-solid piece of quartz in s-seven days, and left it t-to the G-g-g-gov-government on his death b-b-bed, saying it should n-n-never fall into the w-wr-w-wrong hands. One time, I was c-caught in its b-bl-blast. It's curse is why I was h-h-hit by the Death that Looms Over o-u-our heads."
Explorer commented toward the wall. "...I have a creepy feeling that the author has watched Indiana Jones and the Kingdo-- whoa! I nearly revealed the parodee there, didn't I?"
Don't you mean "Alaska Scones and the Search for the Golden Puffle?", I thought. It was a very popular play.
"You don't get it, do you?" he said as he turned around. "Of course you don't..."
The guy is insane, I thought. What happened next was unexpected.
Explorer turned back to the wall and said, "Insane? I'll show him insane..." Explorer went off, mumbling.
"EX-EX-EXPLORER!!!!" Penguin Micro screamed. "DON'T TALK TO D-DEATH!"
"Hey! I'm the death around here. " Ban responded.
"Ooooooohhh." the crowd was impressed.
"Okay. Turn right, and you'll see all of the-"
An "EPF" Agent turned to the tour guide.
"Where did you learn all of this, and why are you showing everyone RSnail's Platinum Ingot vault?"
The tour guide gulped. "I DIDN'T WIRE-TAP YOUR PHONES!"
The Agent nodded. "Good to know. If you did, you'd be crushed like a snowball in a greenhouse."
"Wait!" I said. What's that?
"That is the driving force behind the Airing Jet Current, the Move-anator. It was courteously built by "Doof and Smirtz
"Reformed evil. He's good now. We scanned him. He's over there." the guide pointed to Doof-N-Smirtz, who happened to be the same penguin who screamed "CURSE YOU PERRY THE PLATYPUS" on the van. He waved.
Explorer turned to the wall again.
"For once, someone references the awesomeness that is Phineas and Ferb! Finally!"
Day one came to a close, and I just might lose it.
"Isn't it a little too early for you to lose it, Professor?" said Explorer without turning away from the wall.
"NO, NO IT'S NOT!" I screamed.
Chapter Five: The Wall Whisperer
After several days in Fort Lox, I was having trouble with my own mind. I'm writing in this journal like I need it to live. As a mushroom, I can't be too crowded; my kind can only have so little space! I'll turn to an old hobby of mine.
I play the pipe organ.
Explorer turned to the wall as I just wrote my thoughts.
"I wonder... is there any chance that Shroomsky's organ is like Mayor McFlapp's organ? Nah, the latter one is bigger.... and more polished....... he's watching me right now, right?"
Explorer turned around. Oh, yes. I was watching him. Staring him down. STARING. Thankfully, he can't read my journal. If he could, he would be rather annoyed at what I write, and the fact that I write about writing.
"I AM ANNOYED!" Explorer shouted just then. "YOUR JOURNAL AND YOUR WRITINGS ARE FAIL!!"
"AND YOU CAME FROM AN EGG!" I snapped back.
"AND YOU'RE A CLONE OF JO MOMMA!" Explorer retorted.
He always brought that up. He just never gets tired of that "Jo Momma" thing.
Of course I'm a clone of my mother! At least, in a DNA sort of way. That's why all mushrooms look alike. One mushroom makes spores, which are like seeds, but more... um, fungus-y, and those spores grow into mini-mushrooms who- wait, why am I writing about spores?
Mushroom sticks! I broke my pencil! AND I WROTE ABOUT BREAKING MY PENCIL WITH MY OTHER PENCIL!
I turned back to my journal. Fortunately, since my journal is safe from Explorer's psychic mind-.
"Wait." I said to myself, aloud. "Physic? Impossible! If Explorer is physic, may ARMS grow on me RIGHT NOW!"
I waited. No arms. Good. I'm not crazy. Explorer's not physic. That wall is his friend. He talks to walls, just as I write every single piece of dialogue and events that happen. They're all idiosyncrasies. Just crazy little habits. If I just keep telling myself that, sooner or later, I'll believe it. Quite.
I felt better.
So, I turned back to my journal... when I realized just how weird of a character I myself was. I write everything I see and hear in my journal! I need another hobby! I'M WRITING ABOUT WRITING ON MY THOUGHTS OF WRITING IN MY JOURNAL! Sweet paradoxical skillets! I must get to that organ!
"Come again? I didn't catch that."
Explorer was talking to his wall again. I scooted off, attempting to ignore it. Other creatures were staring at Explorer by now, finding his wall-talk entertaining.
I turned and took out my player card. Shaking it a little, the pipe organ fell out. It almost broke too. I should definitely be more careful where I hold the player card, which has physics that even Fred can not understand. I mean, you can store furniture in it, or fish, or sombreros....... there I go again. Rambling and writing everything in my little journal.
"Of course Fred can't understand the player card, it was designed to override the laws of physics..."
Hmph. That penguin's probably overriding the laws of psychics as he speaks.
Explorer, across the large white room, was still talking to the wall. A lot of other penguins were mocking him. I could make out the shrill voice of a Dorkugese penguin saying "What's the wall saying?"
Explorer was weird. He's a good friend, but he was weird.
Turning to the organ, I decided to play a little song. I won't even begin to explain how I can play a keyboarded instrument, so I'll just write this. I do it the same way I pick up items. With my mind. I'm awesome like that.
Turtleheimer came up, just as I was about to play the first note.
"Hello Shroom! What'cha doin'?" Turtleheimer smiled his toothless turtle grin. Turtles don't have teeth, but neither do penguins. I smiled. I will definitely use that the next time Explorer and I get into our insult spats.
I responded to his salutation.
"Is Explorer bugging you?"
"Yes. He brought up the whole spore thing again."
"Don't worry about it, Professor. He's weird like that. Are you writing everything I say in that journal?"
"Oh well, it's better than talking to a slab of concrete."
"That is true, my chelonian friend. Thank you. That makes me feel a lot better."
"So, what are you playing?"
"Well, I was going to play "Old Folks at Home", but Explorer will probably make some stupid comment to his little WALL friend over there! Friend, I have have the nerve to fry myself on a skillet because of that penguin. Someone as smart as Explorer obviously has a reason for talking to a structure, and I MUST KNOW WHAT IT IS!"
I was mad again. I screamed at Explorer.
"HEY! NER-DO-WELL! I'M GOING TO PLAY OLD FOLKS AT HOME ON THE PIPE ORGAN! WHAT DOES YOUR WALL THINK?!"
"<!-- Peeps, go and get your potato chips and Coke. He's about to play a country ballad, and I'm going for my earplugs. -->"
...he even said "greater than sign", and "hyphen"... as if he was speaking in syntex... I'm probably going to hear more of that.
"YOU JUST SAID HYPHEN! FOUR TIMES! ...AND YOU MOCKED OLD FOLKS AT HOME! KNOCK IT OFF, OR I'LL THROW YOU WAY DOWN UPON THE SWANEE RIVER!"
Explorer yelled back. "DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHERE THE SWANEE RIVER IS?!"
"NO! I WAS QUOTING A SONG!"
"I KNOW! BUT THERE IS A SWANEE RIVER!"
"QUITE THE CONTRARY!" I responded.
"IS TOO!" was his remark.
"IS TOO! IT'S IN FLORIDA!"
"...WHAT IN THE NAME OF NUCLEIC ACID IS A FLORIDA?!"
"YOU TELL ME!"
Turtleheimer turned to me.
"Professor Shroomsky! Stop! You're making a spectacle of yourself!"
"ME?!" I hollered across the fort. "I'M A SPECTACLE! YES! HOW ABOUT YOU, MISTER WALL?! WHAT DO YOU THINK?! I THINK YOU'RE CRAZY!!!!!! THERE IS NO AUDIENCE IN THAT WALL! OR THAT WALL! OR THE VAN!!!! OR THE EAGER DIAMOND! STOP TALKING TO THE WALL OR I WILL CALL A DOCTOR!" I shouted at Explorer.
Explorer talked to the wall again.
"You know, I could ask Mayor McFlapp to give Shroomsky bad luck for the rest of the day... but I have a better idea."
"WELL, I'M GOING TO PLAY OLD FOLKS AT HOME NOW! HAVE FUN WITH YOUR RIDICULOUS LITTLE WALL FRIEND! BECAUSE YOUR WALL ENJOYS YOUR COMPANY BECAUSE IT'S A WALL AND IF YOU HAD THE WALL SENSE TO TO SEE THAT YOU'RE TALKING TO A WALL, MAYBE YOU WOULD WALL THE FACT THAT I AM NOT A WALL! IN FACT, THAT WALL IS STUPID! SO I'VE HAD IT WITH YOUR WALL!!! HA HA HA HA!!!!!"
I started banging out "Night on Bald Mountain" on the organ.
After an hour of organ-playing madness, I regained my sanity and Explorer stopped talking to his WALL.
"Please refrain from saying w-w-wall to me. Please say..."
I thought for a moment. I made up a word.
"Goozack. A fictional conglomeration of letters which lack a true definition. Pronounced "Goo Zack"."
"Okay. If it makes you feel better." Turtleheimer responded with a smile.
Explorer talked to the wa-... goozack for a moment.
"Wow. Breaking the Fourth 'Goozack' doesn't sound as theatrically inviting as... well, you know what."
I watched in curiosity as Explorer turned to the Move-anator and smirked. Something was brewing in his twisted little mind... I better keep an eye on him.
"HEY! I READ THAT!" Explorer turned to me, pointing his flipper.
"HOW COULD YOU HEAR ME?! I WAS WRITING IN MY JOURNAL WHEN YOU SCREAMED!" I held up my little notebook and its respective pen as proof. "SEE?! SEE?! NOW TURN BACK TO YOUR GOOZACK AND TALK TO IT!!"
I calmed down a little. I was going to get Explorer at his own mystic game. Deducing it as a paranormality, I tried a trick I learned from my professor when I was but a youth...
I remember his exact words...... "When y'all gots a spook in yer room, get ya self a vacuum and suck it out!"
Accent aside, it was exactly what I was going to do. I am going to blind him with science... or at least, with a vacuum cleaner.
I turned and screamed at Explorer's goozack.
"WHO ARE YOU GOING TO CALL, YOU SLAB OF CONCRETE?!"
Explorer looked at me, slightly frightened. I shouldn't have screamed at Explorer's goozack. That is weird. He does that already. It may ruin my plan. Nevertheless, I'm going to do it.
I may drop to a 3.97 on my lifetime GPA, but I shall annialate Explorer's little goozack friend.
First, however, I need to sleep. It's getting late, and I need sanity for tomorrow.
So ends day eight at Fort Lox. I put up my journal.
Just as I drifted off to sleep, I heard Explorer whisper to his goozack...
"<!-- I don't like the sound of this, Mayor... try to keep the goozack stabilized for now.... -->"
...he even said "greater than sign", and "hyphen"... as if he was speaking in syntex..... and I just rewrote the exact same text as I did earlier this morning. Ugh... I better get that vacuum soon.
Chapter Six: Mumble, Mumble, Foil and Fumble
I woke up early in the morning. Glancing at Explorer's cot, I noted he was asleep. Excellent. I could commence my plan post-haste.
I set everything up. The snare, the vacuum, and a large, black book, bearing the title of "The Big Book of COC-Abiding Excorsim", kindly given by a Snell-Libro. I don't know what a "COC" is, but it sounds like a ruleset, so I better follow it.
If I had a pulse, it would be racing. I took out the book, and began reading. I skimmed through the pages, explaining how to banish various creatures, from ghosts to hackers, with cheesy puns, rhymes, and other such mumbo-jumbo.
I found what I was searching for.
"How to Reveal and Banish a Paralell Universe, and Not Break the COC"
- Dress in a long, flowing garment.
(**Book Text ceases**)
Okay. Does a lab coat fit this description? I presume so.
- If dealing with the Fourth Wall, make sure a lawyer is nearby. The creature gifted in breaking this meta-fictional barrier may use it against you.
(**Book Text ceases**)
Fourth Wall? Wasn't that an old theater term, where the actors talked to the audi-...... oh my. IS PENGUIN MICRO ON TO SOMETHING?!
I now realized that I was dealing with something greater and more powerful than myself. Should Penguin Micro be correct, there is an outside force controlling my every move, meaning I am created solely for the pleasure of... wow. I better stop thinking about it, or I'll be the next Penguin Micro!
I should focus on the book and do away with this before something bad happens.
Turtleheimer took a course on legal issues in high school... and he was an honorary graduate at PSU's law class... I guess he would do. I called Turtleheimer over, who had been awake for hours. Fortunately, turtles only need one hour of sleep, since they get the rest in hibernation. I told him everything, and he reluctantly decided to help me. He donned his cute little bowtie (turtles can't wear shirts), and took out a briefcase from the Player Card, as well as his diploma. Slapping on a top hat, he stood next to the snare.
Step Three: Wake up the Controller of the chosen paranormality with loud, ominous music.
(**Book Text ceases**)
...thank goodness I know how to play the pipe organ. Obeying the book, I dragged out the organ, and selected a peice.
Ahem. If there are any mystical, otherworldly creatures reading this, it's a rather fast piece I actually recieved from Explorer a while back.
The song, according to the sheet music, is called "The Final Bowser", and the bottom of the paper says "http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-kcNqzyUHlU&feature=related", which looks like an internet URL to me. Yet, I could really care less where it came from. It's loud, it's dramatic, and it'll scare the toadstools out of Explorer.
Before I began playing the organ, I took a last look at the book.
Step Four: Lastly, recite the following text, and the Meta-Fictional Barrier should disintegrate, literally.
(**Book Text ceases**)
I read the reciting text... it was weird.
Alerting Turtleheimer about what I was about to do, Turtleheimer subsequentially told Ban to use his lollipop's power, and deafen everyone... except Explorer... and me. Ban was happy to oblige, he disliked Explorer for some reason. After doing his thing, Ban signaled to me to begin.
I played "The Final Bowser".
As I entered the first stave, Explorer jumped two feet out of the bed. Thankfully, he lacked a shovel, since an EPF took it from him back on the van.
Explorer turned to me, and shouted over the music:
"PROFESSOR! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHY IS TURTLEHEIMER DRESSED AS A LAWYER!"
"Explorer Freddell Antics, you should know exactly what I'm doing." was all I said, mocking him and his mystical goozack.
Explorer, creeped out, stepped back and tripped the snare. He was suspended upside down. Ban stepped in front of Explorer, and laughed. That was rather mean, and I told Ban to stop.
I continued into the second stave of "Final Bowser", and gave the signal to Turtleheimer to recite the text.
"Hello to you, and howdy do. Musty pawns, with Timbuktu. I have one thing to say to you, KICK 'EM IN THE DISHPAN, WHOO WHOO WHOO!"
"PROFESSOR!" Explorer yelled, "WHY ARE YOU INCORRECTLY QUOTING COURAGE THE COWARDLY DOG?!"
"YOU SHOULD KNOW!" I screamed, once again mocking his mystical goozack.
Then, Fort Lox started shaking. The other residents, no longer deafened, woke up and gathered around. They assumed I was giving a concert.
I finished the last stave of "Final Bowser".
Fort Lox was still shaking. However, the Goozack didn't fall.
"PROFESSOR! WERE YOU TRYING TO EXCORCISE THE FOURTH WALL?! DON'T YOU KNOW THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE?!"
I refused to believe a word he said. Turtleheimer tossed me the vacuum. Turning it on, I aimed at the Goozack. The vacuum didn't do a thing. Mushroom sticks.
Meanwhile, in the Bureau of Fiction....
Mayor McFlapp rushed to the Department of Plot. Dashing down a corridor, he halted in front of a large lever sticking out the side of the wall. The Mayor pulled as hard as he could on the lever. It jolted down and--
INITIATING FORMAT CHANGE
Mayor McFlapp: This is not bally good, wot wot!
Billybob: You have a point, Mayor.
Ned and Natalie (in unison): What'cha doin'?
Director Benny: Would you stop making references to Phineas and Ferb running gags?
Ned and Natalie (smirking): No, no we won't.
Director Benny (losing it): OH, ####&^@*&^%@*($*%$*@#^$^#&@^$%$*#&%^^^^^^^&&&&&******$$$$$$$@@@@&&&&&&&&!!!!
Mayor McFlapp (ignoring Benny): It appears that someone has flippin' used Excorcism 1337 to bloomin' offset the plot stability. The randomity factor (points to chart with a point that is rapidly ascending, leaving a steep trail behind it) has jolly well gone bananas, and due to the chaotic effects of an upcoming Wutt Radiation Anomaly, we can't be sure what's going to happen next. Not even the Narrator's Organ can control the plot now, wot!
DJ X: Looks like we're gonna have to ride this one out, dawg.
Illustrator Keith: AAAAAAAHHHH! IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD! THE FOURTH WALL IS BREAKING!!!!
(DJ X rolls his eyes and plays catchy pop music. Keith falls asleep immediately, but continues to sleepdance.)
Mayor McFlapp: Change the format back to storybook, won't you Becky?
(The format changes back to --
INITIATING FORMAT CHANGE
The format changed back to storybook just as Becky was about to fly out the door.
"Huh," remarked Mayor McFlapp, "I guess the plot did it on its own volition! Well, then, time to sit back and relax!"
Chapter Seven: The Fourth Wall Strikes!
Fort Lox was still shaking. By now, the Agents rushed in. They started ordering everyone around, and cut Explorer free from the snare.
However, before anything could be done, the Move-anator's lever moved itself to the other end of it's mechanism.
Explorer turned to me, in fear.
"PROFESSOR! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE JUST DONE?! YOUR LITTLE EXCORCISM JUST THREW THE PLOT OUT OF WACK! THE RAPIDLY RISING RANDOMITY FACTOR WILL NOW DIRECT THE STORYLINE IN ANOTHER DIRECTION! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!"
I lacked the slightest idea of what Explorer just said. However, he controlled the goozack... maybe he could do something!
"Explorer! You talk to the goozack all the time! Maybe you can tell it to stop!"
"IT'S NOT A SENTIENT CREATURE, PROFESSOR, NOR IS IT PROGAMMABLE!"
...I think I just tore the space-time continum. Physics were not my specialty.
All of a sudden, a loud rumbling noise came from outside. "RUN!" Explorer screamed. "IT'S THE AIRINGJET CURRENT!!!"
Before I could say anything, the whole fort lurched to one side. The rumbling noise gradually grew into a deafening roar that drowned out the shrieks of all the other penguins.
Without warning, there was a loud RRRRIP!!! and the whole fort swerved upside-down! It tumbled back over, twisting and turning as if it were a ship out at a stormy sea.
Explorer dashed over to my side.
"Professor! Your exorcism caused the AiringJet Current to be lowered! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
"What in the world is an AiringJet?" I asked.
"It's a large air vortex that was created to prevent global warming," Explorer panted. "It blows polar air around the continent at gale-speed winds. It's supposed to be safe up in the troposphere, but you've lowered it to ground level!"
"How fast is the current?" I questioned.
"Umm... about 110 mph, take or give 10%." Explorer replied worriedly.
Turtleheimer crawled up to me. He screamed over the roar. "110 miles per hour?! A hurricane only needs to get over 73!"
I wasn't a meteorologist, but it doesn't take a weatherman to tell you that's a threat to consider.
I panicked. Anyone would have.
The Current was lowering outdoors, or so an EPF sentry told us. By now, mass hysteria broke out, and like in any time of panic, we all got caught in it.
Normally, I'm a calm creature. I try to rationalize. Yet, there was nothing to rationalize. Everything I thought I knew was not what I thought I knew, but what an otherworldly being thought I knew. At least I thought I knew that. I'm questioning reality.........
I turned to the nearest goozack and started screaming.
"FOURTH GOOZACK! IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, PLEASE! PLEASE, SPARE THE POPULATION! SPARE EXPLORER! I ANGERED YOU, FOURTH GOOZACK! TAKE ME, BUT SAVE MY FRIENDS! SAVE SANITY PENGUIN, EVEN!"
At the mention of Sanity Penguin, Fort Lox stopped shaking. A giant creaking sound, like that of a rusty submarine air lock seventeen times my size, was heard, and I suddenly felt the floor spinning.
Like a giant centrifuge, every creature in Antarctica was thrown against a wall. EPF agents managed to catch the Ross-Well alien, the Eager Diamond, and the Crystal Pelvis, as well as most other valuables, but the platinum ingots fell out a side door and spun lopsidedly out in the current. A strong, ice-cold draft blew the door shut.
Amidst the great crushing force, I could see through the window. The force of the jet stream practically made everything look grey scaled, or "black and white".
Glancing out the skylight, I was startled to see several odd sights for sore eyes. I would have rubbed my glasses on my coat, but I was squashed against acryllic.
First off, I saw a kind old penguin sitting in a chair and knitting an "I Heart Puffles" shirt from scratch. She waved at me. Seeing as I have no hands, I merely waved the end of my lab coat to compensate.
Next, I saw a black and white spotted Shporgshel. It was grazing, like a goat should, but was eating puffles not grass.
Next, I saw a Hydro Hopper boat, one from the island of Club Penguin. A few penguins were in the boat, one of them driving, and another penguin was flying in the polar air on an inner tube. How strange...
Next, I happened to see a penguin on a little bicycle bearing a basket, who was desperately pedaling, probably attempting to escape the current.
Then, I saw a skinny creature, bearing a slight resemblance to The Sapie Brothers, donning a long black robe and straddling its legs (it had legs) across a pencil. It turned straight to me, and staring down me down, with a stare as cold as the Arctic wind. He looked right through my spectacles.
Through the wind, I could have sworn I heard the creature say:
I'LL GET YOU, MY LITTLE FUNGUS, FOR I AM THE AWFUL AUTHOR TO THE WEST! THIS I SWEAR!!
I blinked. The very next instant, this so-called "author" was gone. I could only see the twirling eddies of the Current once more.
...Weird. Just then, Explorer was slammed, back-first, against the wall. He turned to me and managed to tell me that he was also glued to a different skylight, and thus saw the whole thing too. He looked to the ceiling and said:
"If I have to follow a yellow brick road, I will sue the pants off the Awful Author to the West."
Who would color cobblestones anyway?
Chapter Eight: I Blame the Creature on the Pencil
I was still pondering this statement, when the building stopped spinning, and instead swerved and rocked, much like a sailing ship travelling at high speeds, or a large see-saw.
Then, an EPF sentry stated that the building was lowering toward the ground, at a slow speed.
"Wait. Explorer, why won't the building crash?" I asked.
"Well, tornadoes, or in our case, swirling air vortexes, have been known to gently lay down cars, vinyl records, and even entire buildings without breaking a thing. This is one of those cases. I think the randomity factor peaked already."
There he goes with the whole randomity factor thing again.
Fort Lox steadily eased to the ground. With a soft thud, the Current rose once more, whipping up a large gale, and leaving the building safely on solid soil. The temperature was around 40 degrees Fahrenheit, but the gusts kept the wind chill below freezing. Considering that the structure was lifted clean off its foundation, I was surprised that Fort Lox's only damage were shattered windows, cracked walls, and a power outage.
I turned to Explorer, seeking why the building survived in a relatively good condition.
"I just told you," Explorer said before I could even get out the first syllable of my question. "Tornadoes have been known to gently lay down various objects, leaving them in a surprisingly good condition. One such tornado picked up a cabinet full of china and set it down, with the china unharmed and intact. Another tornado picked up and set down a grocery store--with all the cans still on the shelves. Though I'm surprised the AiringJet was able to do the same, considering that it's not really a tornado, but really an artificial vortex."
All of a sudden, a gigantic THUD! was heard from behind. I turned around to look.
RSnail's Platinum Ingot Vault had dropped out of the sky and was sticking out of the snow, with one corner jutted into the ground! It was like one big diamond, or rhombus, or parallelogram... or whatever Fred calls it! However, the situation became worse. All the platinum ingots were missing!
Snelder exited the building about this time. He turned to me.
"Did ya see what I saw, fungus?" the coal-powered RocketSnail queried.
"WELL, LOOK!" I looked. Explorer, also passed a gaze.
He then proceeded to cast a blank stare. Under his breath, I thought I heard him mumble the actual names of punctuation marks.
"...red cobblestones. Of course." was Explorer's subsequent complaint.
Highly illogical. I blame the creature on the pencil.
All of a sudden, Explorer's puffles, Xavier, Danny, Clyde, and Scooter (which he had brought along the way) started singing and pushing Explorer onto the path. It was strange, but I managed to jot down most of the lyrics:
- "Follow the reddish-brick road,
- Follow the reddish-brick road,
- Follow, follow, follow, follow,
- Follow the reddish-brick road!
(The four proceeded to take out their instruments and played a short interlude)
- Follow the reddish-brick,
- Follow the reddish-brick,
- Follow the reddish-brick road!
(Danny proceeded to take out his violin and played a short instrumental)
- We're off to see a spin-off
- Of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
- We hear it is a Spoof of a Spoof
- If ever a Spoof there was!
- If ever, oh ever, a Spoof there was
- This parody is one because
- Because, because, because, because, because!
- Because it's spoof of The Wizard of Oz!
(Violin instrumental again)
- We're off to see a spin-off
- Of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz!!!
Weird... he must have taught his puffles about that Fourth Goozack.
We all exited the debris. While most of the population stayed behind, I decided to set forth with Explorer, and Penguin Micro. I took pity on him, so he came with us.
Sadly, Penghis Khan forced us to take him too, lest we be bathed in Ditto and bombarded with fish.
I immediately regretted taking Penguin Micro... and I should have chosen Ditto over Khan...
"PENGHIS KHAN'S FEET HURT! CARRY HIM!"
"FORT LOX F-FELL! THE S-S-SID-SIDE-SIDEBAR IS NEXT!"
"GIVE PENGHIS KHAN SOME FOOD!"
"AAAHHH! ''Italic text'' tags are surrounding my speech! G-G-GET THEM O-O-O-OFF!!!!"
"PROPELLOR PENGUIN! RUB PENGHIS KHAN'S FEET!"
"PROPELLOR PENGUIN! PENGHIS KHAN HAS FIGURED OUT WHAT AN OZ IS! IT'S A TYPE OF CANNED CHEESE!
"P-P-PR-P-P-PROPPELOR PENGIUN, A S-S-SCA-SCARY P-PARODY IS C-C-COM-COMING! HIDE M-ME!!"
Explorer turned to the wall and commented on Penguin Micro's parody statement:
"PARODY? PARODY??? I'll GIVE HIM PARODY, THE LITTLE PARODY HIMSELF!!! Wow. That was random. GAH! Stop pushing me, you little annoying--oof!"
...we continued down the red cobblestones for the next half hour, with Micro, Antics, and Khan's ceaseless rambling.
Eventually, we passed a small farm, where cedar trees (like the ones at Christmas) were being grown.
We almost passed the entire structure when Penguin Micro shrieked.
"D-D-DO YOU S-SEE TH-THAT SCARE-SKUA ST-S-STATUE? TH-THAT'S SC-SC-SCARING AW-AWAY MORE TH-THAN THE SKUAS............."
Explorer turned to the scare-skua, and stated:
"You're not 'gonna' come to life... right?"
Obviously, the scare-skua did not come to life, because that's stupid and illogical... yes... I'm writing that down twice.
I wrote the same sentence again, to mock Explorer, since he couldn't read my journal.
Obviously, the scare-skua did not come to life, because that's stupid and illogical. That felt good to repeat.
Explorer winced, and turned to nothing again.
"You repeated it thrice, not twice."
Wretched fourth goozack... even though there is not a goozack present.
We continued down the cobblestones for about fifteen more minutes, where we passed an odd metal sculpture.
It was shaped like the creature on the pencil, though it was obviously one of those stupid "pop art-era" statues... made out of tin cans. I bet they received a government grant to build that...... artists always get grants for the dumbest things, like tin-can statues.
Yet they never gave me the grant I asked, and I was searching for the cure to stress-induced molting!!
Explorer then turned to nothing and said:
"Do penguins even molt at all?"
He then turned to the statue and said, "You're not gonna ask me to oil your beak, are you? And don't tell me you want the Wonderful Wizard of "Aaah!"s to give you a heart. Oh, wait. I don't see an oilcan anywhere, so I suppose that's a good--"
Before Explorer could get in a further word, Penghis Khan immediately screamed, took out his Mullet, and lopped it upon the sculpture.
The statue fell, and tin cans scattered all over the cobblestones. I presume he despised the grant system too.
We travelled down the red cobblestones a good while, and came up a large, steep incline.
Considering the fact that I didn't need to eat that much (I only eat rotten items and can live long on them), and that I don't tire frequently, I climbed the mountain alone, informing my friends that I would report what I saw.
I climbed the mountain, and stood in horrifying awe at what I saw.
"You think you're horrified?!" Explorer shouted from below. "I READ THE SCRIPT TWO WEEKS AGO! Read it, and THEN we'll talk fear!"
Chapter Nine: Many Mega Minions Mess with Meteorology Majorly
There, below in the valley, was a gigantic tower. To the right and the left was RSnail's platinum supply. It was being attached to some sort of dynamo. Wires leading from the ingots and its dynamo were installed upon dozens of massive heaters, the kind that would heat mortar bricks before shipping. Thousands of penguins were rotating a huge crank on each dynamo, creating electromagnetic electricity, which was conducted and amplified by the ingots, and subsequently used to power the heaters. The tower, placed in the center of the mass of wires, heaters, platinum, dynamos, and penguins seemed to be some sort of smoke stack. Black smoke was pouring out into the atmosphere.
The large letters "CO2" were written on its side... anyone who's taken college can tell you what that means. Two words: "Carbon Dioxide".
Even though ice caps don't melt too easily, this contraption seemed to artificially create heat into the otherwise freezing polar air.
Two smaller towers were also fed by the cranked dynamos, each one shooting billows of unfathomably hot steam into the sky.
It was clear that this "heat wave" was some evil plot.
I looked closer. Every penguin was wearing the exact same wardrobe... almost like some sort of uniform.
Oh no. No... it couldn't be! Not again!
Taking the image and uncreasing it, I held it toward the penguins in the horizon.
They were back! I thought they were outlawed!
I rubbed my glasses on my lab coat... twice.
It was the STINC!
Turtleheimer had some of the worst memories of that wretched coalition. He told them all to me for years back in our childhood...... I cringe to even write them.
The shout of Explorer from below snapped me back into reality.
"HEY! PROFESSOR SHROOMSKY!!! WHEN YOU'VE GOTTEN RID OF THOSE STINC SOLDIERS, WILL YA GET ME A FEW TONS OF THAT PLATINUM??? I FEEL LIKE MAKING A FUEL CELL!!!"
I was about to scream, but I did not. Hollering from this altitude would give us away, and I'd be beaten to a stir-fry by STINC minions.
I dashed down the mountain, and spoke to Explorer.
"How did you know STINC was up there?"
Explorer smacked his beak and gestured to the empty horizon he was talking to.
I understood. That fowl Fourth Goozack.
"Aren't you a little too young to be a fuel cell engineer, Explorer?" I questioned. I could have sworn I heard a voice screaming the names of punctuation marks echoing in the distance.
"Tell me, Professor," Explorer asked me, "are the STINC soldiers walking around chanting and marching into the tower?"
I recalled what I had seen from memory.
"Yes, they seem to be gathering inside the tower for some sort of meeting. No chanting."
"And does the tower have a drawbridge?"
"No, but it has a set of wooden double doors. Drawbridges are impractical."
"And did you see a window over the double doors?"
"How about any flying monkeys?"
"No- WAIT, WHAT IN THE NAME OF VACUOLES IS A MONKEY?!"
"Never mind. Did you see a stooped figure in the window?"
"Hmm... I think I saw some sort of creature leaning out of the windowsill watching the soldiers enter. In fact, he looked much like the creature on that pencil."
"Wonderful. Now come with me and bring your homemade pepper spray."
I began to take out a bottle of my own homemade pepper spray from my lab coat when I realized something. How does Explorer know I have homemade pepper spray?
For a quick, short and ridiculous ending, go here.