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Blobby Log Owners Manual

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Blobby Log Day 68 (part 1)

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 3: Moustachio Territory > Vol. 1

Timestamp: Morning; Day 68
Weather: I can breathe this here hairy atmosphere without the aid of lung goggles!
Landscape: Whiskerton's humble but lovely domicile.

NOTES:

FriendshipWhat a lovely night’s rest!  Trudging through hair storms is more tiring than one would think!  Good morning, new friend Whiskerton!

Whiskerton: Morning, Fred!  You sleep good?

PF: Like a baby angel!

Whiskerton: Great.  My home might not be a Moustachio Castle, but it’s got the market cornered on cozy!  Help yourself to some breakfast in the kitchen.

PF: DELIGHTFUL!  Walk, walk, walk, walking away…

Blobby: Pssssst, Whiskerton!

Whiskerton: Who’s talkin’?

Blobby: Hey, it’s me, Blobby – in the log!

Whiskerton: Talkin’ logs!  What’ll that bulbous feller bring here next?

Blobby: Hey, so, don’t tell PF that Roy and me painted a bunch of warts and scars on his face last night.  We had to teach him a lesson for being so jerk-headed!

Whiskerton: Oh, that’s paint?  I just thought that he naturally got more hideous overnight, since he already looks like a deformed Moustachio.  Your secret’s safe with me, talkin’ log!

Blobby: Shh!  He’s coming back!

PF: Walk, walk, walk, walking back into the room… I shall tell you, Whiskerton, your hospitality is like a warm blanket wrapped around my shivering and hypothermic Heart.  I am so grateful to you!

Whiskerton: It ain’t nothin’, Fred.  Poor deformed feller like yourself could use a little respite and retreat!

Blobby: *snicker*

PF: So, Whiskerton, why will you not quit your job for me?  I would do you oh so many favors.  I will TOTALLY be your best friend for a forever!

Whiskerton: Well, Fred, I can’t give up my work.  It might not be the most glamorous life, but as far as Beards in Moustachio Territory are concerned, I’m basically a celebrity!

PF: From hair-lawn care?

Whiskerton: You don’t understand.  Us Beards are ground-bound here in Moustachio Territory, living simple lives with basic pleasures.  But we and the Territory are controlled by the Moustachios, them flyin’ Moustaches you might see zoomin’ ‘round out the window.  They live on floatin’ islands in the sky, where they monitor and legislate us from above.

PF: Flying!  Oh, Whiskerton, I LOVE flying.  Can we see these magical flying islands?

Whiskerton: I’d love to.  But Beards aren’t allowed up there.  We can only speculate what goes on in that floating kingdom.  I bet they got all kinds of fancy cheeses and high-tech primpin’ equipment!

PF: Well, perhaps I cannot get you to quit your job, but if you help me acquire the necessary Bean Gas from the Mayor of Bean Village, I promise to take you in my Dirigible to those floating castles in the sky!

Whiskerton:
That sounds like a fine deal, Mr. Fliggins – a fine deal indeed!

PF: MARVELOUS.  May I accompany you to work today so as to devise a plan for ending the hair storm?

Whiskerton: You sure can!  Oh boy, flying castles…  I can taste them fancy cheeses now!

?: *squeak!*

Current Mood: Content and Focused.
Discoveries Made: Deal-Making with Beard-Creatures!

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤