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Tagged: Big Blue
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Blobby Log Day 121

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 8: Kicky Village > Vol. 1

Timestamp: Morning; Day 121
Weather: Green.
Landscape: The rocky shores of hopeless odor.


…so  you mean to say that this Kane fellow is completely anti-social and he will not even attend Kicky Village birthday picnics?  This seems highly peculiar.

Head Kicky: Indeed.  That’s why it just doesn’t seem possible that he would open up to you like you say.  He is a very strong Kicker, but has turned his back on Kicky society.

PF: Perhaps…  You know, that extensive expositional backstory for Kane, the lone stealth Kicky, has taken all night, and yet the Hydration Station still has not abated the horrific whale stink that capitalizes the atmosphere.

Head Kicky: No.  I fear his body fumes may defeat us.

Big Kicky: Sir, I think Blubba’s poisonous secretions have run-off into the sea, putrefying that as well.  And since the ocean is our source for the Hydration Station, we’re basically pumping him with an endless toxic marinade.

PF: Terrifyingly vivid!


Head Kicky: What’s going on?

Kickies: It’s Kane!

Kane: Kicky Siblings!  I have overheard recently that you feel I have abandoned you!

PF: How did he hear that?

Kane: I was disguised!

PF: I told you that rock was breathing and listening!

Kane: I wish to prove to you that I am not a deserter!  O great stink machine – prepare yourself!

Blubba: Is he talking to m-OOOOOF!!!

Kickies: Ooooooooooh.

Roy: Holy smoke!

Blobby: Look at ‘im fly!

Blubba: How unceremonious!

*S P L O O O O O S H!*
Kickies: Hooray!

PF: Kane, you saved the day!  You Kicked that stench mound clear out to sea!

Kane: Yes.

Head Kicky: Why, you are the Kickiest Kicky who ever Kicked!

Kane: Yes.

Head Kicky: What took you so long?

Kane: I thought that everyone hated me because I looked different and like to stalk the shadows, as my Ninja upbringing has me wont to do.

Head Kicky: No no, we just thought you were a little different.

Big Kicky:
I want him for striker on my soccer team!

Kickies: No, me!  Me!  I want to be his best friend!

PF: Well well, looks like another story resolved thanks to the quick thinking of Professor Frederick Fliggins.

Moustachia: Mama, you didn’t do anything…

PF: Horsepucky!  I did so!

Blobby: Not really.  You just kinda walked around while stuff happened around you.

PF: WHATEVER.  Let us just hurry up and get the location of Professor Island finally.  Mr. Blubba!  Sir!  Over here!

Blubba: My bottom – it is made of bruise!

PF: Yes, naturally.  Anyway, are you prepared to get on with the story of you life you started nearly a month ago and tell us the location of Professor Island?

Blubba: I’d be happy to, but I’ve lost my place.  I shall start at the beginning!

Blobby: Nooooo!

Blubba: Oooof!

*S P L O O O O O S H!*

PF: Thank you, Kane.

Kane: He shall not pollute our shores again until he swims off that smell.

PF: Now we are stuck.  Where is my home!

Kane: Perhaps the Pants peoples of Pantsylvania know.

PF: Escuse me.

Kane: Kickies obviously cannot wear pants for we are mostly legs and would not only suffocate, but also lost critical knee flexibility – HOWEVER in my many quests about this vast continent, the only place I encountered creatures who look anything like you are the Pants, particularly the plaid ones, in Pantsylvania.

PF: Zounds!  That could be a lead!  Where is this place?

Kane: Due west – clear across the entire world!

PF: Right.  Well, gang, you ready?  Let us be off!

Blobby: If we must.

Kane: Farewell, friend.  May the winds carry you favorably to the zippered ones.

PF: Thank you, friend.  Congratulations on your reintroduction to society.  Into the dirigible, little ones!

Kickies: Goodbye, Fliggins!

PF: Toodle-loo, Kickity Kickers!  Bye bye, chatty smelly Blubba!  See you later, this hemisphere of the world!  I hope that I have left you better than when I entered you!

Blobby: Probably not.

Yes.  Bye!

The Western Hemisphere of Shawnimaland:
Goodbye, Professor Fliggins!

Current Mood: To Pants! To Pants!
Discoveries Made: The incredible Kicking power of Kane!

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 107

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 7: The Big Blue > Vol. 1

Timestamp: Morning; Day 107
Weather: Sunburny.
Landscape: Waves waving at me - "Come," they wave, "Come swim away from this verbose blowhard."


So much speaking!Blubba: …and many don’t know this, but the whole world was once made of a loose-knit corduroy.  It is true, or at least I have it on good account from my Great Uncle Toby that it was so.  Uncle Toby was possibly the finest sunburnt blubba that ever cut through these salty salty seas.  And you think MY hair is majestic?  Well, my little friend, you should have seen the powerful coif on ol’ Toby Whale!  Majestic times ten!  Eleven!  Twelve! Thir…

PF: Fascinating, my friend! A whole day of nonstop speaking, Blobby.  Surely, this fellow will get to the actual occasion of his birth in this bottomless life story.

Blobby: Erg.

Current Mood: Erg! That is the Word, my man!
Discoveries Made: Erg.

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 106

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 7: The Big Blue > Vol. 1

Timestamp: Morning; Day 106
Weather: Sunburnt
Landscape: Blue, Blue, Blue, ORANGE, Blue, Blue.


Blubba: …so when I say, “meeting you is like eating a delicious spaghetti sandwich” please understand, I have not ever eaten a delicious spaghetti sandwich, and I am unsure whether anyone has, basically, what I am saying is that meeting you can only be very specifically described as a foreign and, thus far, surprisingly enjoyable experience.  Like a ridiculous meal, like a spaghetti sandwich would be, I assume.  I have never eaten spaghetti, though in my comprehensive travels of this world I have met many creatures who have, most of them plumbers.  I have eaten plumbers.


Of course not.  But do you see what I had done there?  I made you think that I had.  That is a hilarious joke.  Making that joke was like eating a delicious plumber sandwich.  Speaking of…

STOP!  PLEASE.  Please.  Please stop.  This pleasant introduction has lasted twelve hours easily.  I could weep from the boredom of it all!

My.  I was just being kind.  Perhaps you do not need my help after all.  Goodbye…

Wait!  PF, apologize to him!  We’ll never find Professor Island alone…

Yeah, ya meany.

But you… Very well.  Mr. Blubba!  Sir, please accept my sincerest apologies.  I have recently gotten over a bout of evil and perhaps am still working out those traumas on my friends and colleagues accidentally.

Apology accepted.  So you would like to find your Professor Island?

YES!  Goodness me, yes.  Have you seen it?

If it exists, I have been there.

Oh, delectable.  Let me describe it.  It is shaped like…

No no.  You clearly do not know how my brain works.  I remember everything I see – EVERYTHING – but I need to tell my entire life story in order to get to the parts of interest to you.

Pardon me?

I have a Brobdingnagian brain in my equally ginormous noggin.  You have to understand that it takes a while for the synapses to fire from one side to the other.  Here is a question: if I were to shoot my mind lightning at full speed toward the horizon, would it wrap around the curvature of the planet or shoot endlessly straight into space?  Well my brain has a lot of space and is big enough to have its own curvature, so both are true, I suppose.  I answered my own question.  Let me ask another – topic, Sports and Leisure – who was the first Kicky to…

EXCUSE… excuse me, sir.  Surely there is a better way to access the location of Professor Island than letting you tell your whole life story.

Yeah, like, how old are you?

I am easily as old as everything if not older, but I suppose that isn’t so easy…

!  Cannot you just let me TRY and describe the island?  It is really very simple…

Well maybe you can just ask another sunburnt cetacean who remembers being everywhere?  Oh wait, you can’t – I’m the only one, good luck finding your home by yourself.  Toodle-loo…

No!  Fine, we will do this your way.

Oh magnificent.  You won’t be disappointed; it’s really a very gripping story.  Now one would think that I could start from the moment of my first conscious thought, but no story begins there.  Of course not – and certainly events shaped my life before that moment, all those years ago.  So you may think, then, that a good place to start would be at the moment of my birth, a great idea – my first undersea baby whale screams into the bubbled universe.  But surely even my life was impacted in the previous seven years my mother was pregnant with me.  And surer still, who I am is deeply impacted by the location I was born, the time in the history of things, the very characters of my mother and father, both unique in their own right.  Oh and how they met.  Not very romantic at first, but when viewed through the reflection of a funhouse mirror, or perhaps the ocean’s surface, I think you will agree that it is actually very sweet…

Oh darn.

This will be a while.

Maybe the sun burned his brain as well.

…No, it is ludicrous to even presume that a story could ever start in its own beginning, so let us go back BEFORE the beginning of the beginning…

Oh darn.  Indeed.  Oh darn, Blobby.

Current Mood: Leary.
Discoveries Made: The limits of my patience.

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 105

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 7: The Big Blue > Vol. 1

Timestamp: WHO KNOWS; Day 105
Weather: The Sun beats down unto our brows like a PUNK.
Landscape: Water water, everyplaces.



Blobby: Maybe we could pass the time with you apologizing again for being such a butt-brain on the Isle of Detached Shawnimals.  And in general.

PF: This is not a desirable proposition.

Roy: But appropriate.

PF: We have been on the currents of Big Blue for some time, 80% of that has been spent apologizing to you three.  I believe I have paid my penance to the sorry-Gods.

Moustachia: Not weawy.

PF: Blerg.  Where and what is a Blubba anyway?  I have run out of ideas on how to summon this beast.


Roy: What the…

Blobby: We’re taking on water!

Moustachia: We’w gonna dwown!

PF: What disproportionately adorable last words if so, Moustachia.  Freckle-sand, mend our broken hull.

Freckle-sand: Yes, sir!

Blubba!PF: What have we aground-run into?

Roy: It’s some kind of bulbous, leathery island!

Blobby: Unattractive too.

?: That’s my head, thank you very much.  I knew I should have tried a more funky hairstyle.  I told the scrumps this one made my head appear bulbous.  Bulbous is unfunky to the extreme.  Oh dear.  Oh darn.

PF: This is a talking island.  Perhaps it is a Detached portion of the Isle of the Detached.  How anti-anti-social!

?: I am not an island piece.  I am a Blubba.  Which is to say, my name is Blubba.  I’m Blubba.

PF: Our savior!  Blubba!  Tell us how to get to Professor Island!

Blubba: Well, that shouldn’t be a problem.  It should be very simple.  I think that finding that place is going to be the easiest thing that has ever happened in Thing History.

Caloo!  Discovery!!!

Limited Edition Plush Discovery 7

Current Mood: PUMPED.
Discoveries Made: Blubba!

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤