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Blobby Log Day 162

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 12: Professor Island > Vol. 1

Timestamp: High Noon; Day 162
Weather: Climactic.
Landscape: The opposite of pretty.

NOTES:

Mr. Demon: Come back! Don’t let an impressive amount of body parts discourage you. Well… Okay, sure you’ve defeated my army of zombie food products, but I still have my Flying Devils, and I’ve put earmuffs on them so they can’t be confused by any of your rhetorical trickery any longer. Flying Devils – ATTACK!

Flying Devils: Whats was that? A snack?

Mr. Demon: (flailing and complicated signals, generally conveying the message that the Devils should once again attack Professor Island.)

Flying Devils: Ohhhhhh! Let’s gets ‘em, boys! Maybe ifs we disposes of thems properly, we’lls get that snack the boss was yellin’s about!

Mr. Demon: BWA-HA-HA!

PF: It seems that we are in need of another nick of time miracle. The Professors are nearly powerless to deaf Devils.

Mr. Demon: I am full of disproportionate confidence!

?: Lump, lump, lump, lump, lump…

PF: Hmm…

?: Lump, lump, lump…

Flying Devils: Raarrrrrr!

?: Lump, lump, lump. We’re here!

PF: Oh, hello Land Lump. Um, you got my letter?

Land Lump: Yes, brother Fliggins. The Lumps moved as fast as we could as soon as it arrived. Also, we met a butterfly that was pretty, so we got a little distracted. But we are here to Lump you to victory!

PF: Well… That is… What is your strategy, Land Lump?

Land Lump: Oh. Well. Give me a second… Hummmmm.

Flying Devils: RARRRRR!

Land Lump: Let me see… Do you think we could take a nap first?

PF: NO!

Mom: The Devils are almost here!

Land Lump: Oh! Oh no, they probably don’t need any pamphlets. Hmmm… This is a lot of pressure!

Kickies: We know what to do!

Roy: Hey! Look at the Kickies running on top of the water like that!

Mr. Demon: Whoa, cool! I mean… DARNIT!

Kane: Greetings! We received your missive, Fliggins. The Kickies would like to figuratively and literally kick butt for justice!

PF: Well, the Devils are too high to be kicked. Oh, duh and doi! Start kicking the Lumps at them!

Lumps: Lump?

Kickies: Yeah!

*Bup bup bup bip punt but bup*

Lumps: Lump, lump, ow, lump…

Flying Devils: Hey! Ow! Ouches! Lumped by Lumps! Ow!

Mr. Demon: Charge! Charge!

PF: Oh the Lumps are slowing them down, but not enough!

Sid: Hey, P. Flig, WHAT UP, SON!

PF: The Three Bean Teens, my Dogs and Cats!

Bonzo: We hitched a ride here with the Royal Moustachio Air Force and the Royal Barbers. Came up with a pretty sweet plan.

Sid: Joe, this thing is about to be on and popping!

PF: Oh, excellent, Gee! You are most certainly my brothers from other, very nice mothers. Where are the Moustachios and Beards?

Bonzo: They’re settin’ up their part of the plan. First, we gotta shoot this BEAN JUICE HOSE at the Devils! Let ‘er rip, Gree!

Gree: Wickey-wickey!

*SHOOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHH*

Flying Devils: Sicks! Beans juice! Sticky beans juice!

Bonzo: Okay, RMAF! NOW!

*ZOOOOOOOOMMMMM!*

RMAF: Hello, old bean, so to speak – hope you don’t mind being covered in our MOUSTACHE CLIPPINGS!

PF: Pa-tooey! Hair blizzard!

Flying Devils: We’s tarred and featherds!

PF: More like “beaned and haired.”

Tarvis Whiskerton: Howdy, Fred!

PF: Oh! Tarvis! You have come to help too!

Professor Professor: Goodness, you never had this many friends before!

PF: I know!

Whiskerton: Yep! The Royal Barbers and me are gonna put the final touches on these here Devils. While they’re dazed, we’re gonna summon the powers from our Great Barberian Ancestors and doom these cretins to the worst possible fate known to all of Shawnimaland – BAD HAIRCUTS.

PF: You fiendish beard, you!

Whiskerton: Stand back, Fred! Barbers! Commence shearing!

Royal Barbers: Yeee-haw!

PF: This is simply remarkable.

Roy: Hey, here come the Pink Ninjas, floating on their bubble gum balloons like the best dream come to reality!

Pink Ninja: Hey, Professor Fliggins! We’re here to do what we do every month, stomp some evil!

PF: Well, thank you so much, this attack is all but thwarted.

Whiskerton: Voila! Now thems some UGLY HAIRCUTS.

Flying Devils: Nos! I gots likes three mullets and a hightops fade! I’s gots an amish beard ands the words “Rufus Rocks!” shaved on my scalps! Who’s Rufus?!

Pink Ninja: Girls, look! HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Pink Ninjas: Hoohoo! Hahahaha! HA!

Flying Devils: My deepest fears – BEIN’ LAUGHED AT BY LADIES! Embarrassments! Ah! Guh! Arg!

Pink Ninja: Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha. Ho ha. Man. Man. Ha ha ha… SIGH. Oh, it feels good to laugh like that. PHEW.

Flying Devils: Oh goods, we laugheds ‘em tired!

Pink Ninjas: Not quite!

(Sounds of the Pink Ninjas beating every ounce of snot out of the discombobulated and ridiculous-looking Devils. How lovely.)

Hooray!Mr. Demon: Aw, geez!

?: HALP! HALP! BLEH! HALP!

PF: Wow – everyone is coming. It took me a year to find Professor Island, and now so many creatures are here… Hey-lo! Vampire Pants!

Vampire Pants: Bleh! Halp me!

PF: That is a fine boat you have there, sir! I see you got my letter of plea to help me too! Marvelous!

Vampire Pants: Letter? What letter? I’m running for my life from these two mobs you let into my house! I wouldn’t help you!

PF: Oh.

Angry Pants Mob: Get him! Get the evil Vampire!

Vampire Pants: I’m not a Vampire! Bleh! I’m just the PANTS of a Vampire!

Hysterical Pants Mob: Don’t you hurt the beautiful Vampire Pants! We love him! Vampires are SO COOL! SWOOOON!!!

PF: Goodness, we did kind of leave you hanging… I have an idea! *ahem* BOY, I SAY, VAMPIRES ARE SO LAME AND STUFF!

Pants Mobs: What did he say?

PF: I SAY, I FEEL THAT VAMPIRES ARE TOTES UNCOOL NOW! MOST TOTES POSSIBLE!

Hysterical Pants Mob: Liar!

PF: IT IS SO DUMB AND STUPID HOW JUST CRAZY BORING VAMPIRES ARE! FIFTEEN MINUTES OF FAME ARE UP! MOVE ON!

Angry Pants Mob: What’s he saying?

PF: I READ IN TEEN PANTS MAGAZINE THAT THE HOT NEW THING THESE DAYS IS DEVILS! DEVILS ARE THE HOTTESTNESS! I WISH I COULD JUST KISS THEM TO PIECES! Help me out, guys…

Roy: Huh? OH! YEAH! OMG! I WANT TO JUST MARRY A DEVIL!

Blobby: Ha. I THINK DEVILS ARE SO MUCH COOLER THAN VAMPIRES! I WANT TO STUFF THEM AND PUT THEM ON MY MANTLE!

Flying Devils: Huh?

Hysterical Pants Mob: Yeah. Vampires are so played. I heard Vampires can’t even use a mirror – GRODY! Devils are pretty hawt tho. Totesally hawt! YEAH! DEVILS! WE WANT DEVILS! WE WANT DEVILS!

PF: Hey, look over there! SO MANY DREAMBOATY DEVILS!

Angry Pants Mob: Devils! Why they’re even more amoral than Vampires! Get the Devils! Burn the Devils!

Flying Devils: Uh-oh…

Hysterical Pants Mob: Don’t you hurt our precious Devils! WE LOVE THEM MORE THAN ANYTHING IN THE UNIVERSE!

PF: That should take care of that.

Flying Devils: Ah! Ah! Gets ‘em off me! Theys burning and hugging! Ow OH! RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!

PF: See you later, evil!

The Forces of Good: HOORAY!

Mr. Demon: Crud. It doesn’t matter! I will take you all on myself! I’m quite the scrapper, and my anonymous friend here with the comb-over will lead me right to all your secrets! Professor Island IS MINE!

Moustachia: Gimme that costume, mistew!

?: Stay away from me, little flying Moustache!

Professors: GASP!

PF: Why, Mr. Demon’s accomplice… it is… PROFESSOR STUBBLER!

Professor Stubbler: Oh are you that surprised?

Professor Professor: Oh, Stubbler, how could you? We had some doubts about your last few books about the study of Dark Syrup ingestion, but we never thought you would turn EVIL. This will have to go up for review with the Council of Provosts…

Professor Stubbler: Your Council of Provosts can CRAM IT!

Professors: DOUBLE GASP!

PF: If you keep shocking the Professors, Stubbler, you are going to make them hyperventilate!

Professor Stubbler: I do not get any respect around here! I am too BRILLIANT for Professor Island! Mr. Demon respects my brain!

Mr. Demon: Sure!

Professor Stubbler: A brain so large it scared away most of the hair from my head! Stupid hair! It did not respect me!

PF: Stubbler, you sold out your home.

Professor Stubbler: How does that make me any different from you, Fliggins? You ran away from this place. You could not succeed in our circuitous academic system, so instead of accepting your failure and facing it, you retreated. In fact, if you did not leave, Mr. Demon would have never even come here. We are the same!

Professors: TRIPLE GASP!

Professor Weezygrist: Huff Huff. I need an inhaler… Too many… surprises…

Professor Professor: Is this true, Fliggins? Did you lead Mr. Demon here?

PF: Yes…

Professors: QUADRUPLE…

PF: BUT! But, I was put in a trance by Dark Syrup AND he spied on me. I have spent the year taking in LIFE. Looking at it from every imaginable angle! If you just stay at home, friends, you will not know how to properly value it. You will fall into a daze. You will live your life unconsciously, not knowing about all the wonders that await you elsewhere! It is in the Elsewhere that I found the real meaning of Home.

Professor Stubbler: Poppycock and applesauce!

PF: Stubbler, you foolish turdmouth! Do you not see? We are NOT the same. I have been forced out of my comfort zone and given the gift of JUDGMENT! I do not LET things happen to me – I judge them and can now decide if they are good or evil or delicious or made of facial hair or are a whale…

Blubba: Someone beckon me?

PF: Blubba!

Blubba: I got your letter, and finally put the pieces together about where I was born. THESE ARE MY BIRTH WATERS!

PF: I see.

Blubba: I am so grateful, I would help you out of any thicket!

Mr. Demon: OH MY GOD I AM SO BORED. All right, freakshows, I don’t care about what you’ve Discovered… prepare to be conquered!

Blubba: You, Kane, the Stealth Kicky!

Kane: Yes, my dear smelly abomination?

Blubba: Do us the honor of Kicking me in the rumpside one more time…

PF: Huh?

Kane: Ha ha. Yes, Blubba, sir. Yes indeed.

*BOOOOOF*

ULP!Blubba: Thank you, Frederick Fliggins! I will always be grateful to you!

Mr. Demon & Professor Stubbler: What the..?

Blubba: *ULP!*

*SPLAAASHHH!*

The Forces of Good: Hooray!

Blobby: Blubba just swallowed Mr. Demon and Stubbler. He’s not so bad after all!

Blubba: Thank you, Professor Fliggins! I will now swim these rapscallions to the adjacent corner of the planet! Fair thee well!

PF: Thank you, Blubba! You are a wonderful monster!

Blubba: You too, my friend! You too!

Mom: Fliggins you did it! Let’s celebrate!

PF: Yes. Celebration. Right. Perhaps we could first take a ZZZZZZZZZZZ zzzzzzzzzz…

Mom: Yes. Of course.

Professors: ZZZZZZZZ zzzzzz snore-hiccup zzzzzzzzzzzz ZZZZZ zzzzzzzzzzzz…

Current Mood: zzzzzzZZZZZZZzzzzzzzZZZZZZZzzzzz...
Discoveries Made: zzzz - snuh - uh - zzzZZZzzz-lala-lovezzz... love...

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

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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.

NOTES:

…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!

*commotion*

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!*
photopainting_11x1
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.

PF:
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 116

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

Timestamp: Early Morning; Day 116
Weather: Hmm... Smelly?
Landscape: Rocky. Good for cross-training.

NOTES:

Blubba: …now, Death Monologue Sub-Monologue Number Eighty-Two:  My medium-sized regrets.  Medium-sized regret number one: I never entered a pie-eating contest…

Blobby: grrr…

PF: So as you can see, Mr. Kane sir, this mouthy monstrosity has collided with your shore and needs to somehow be returned to the sea.

Kane: Why do you want to help it?

PF: Well… because creatures need assistance sometimes…

Roy: And he knows where Professor Island is!

PF: Yes.  He knows – somewhere in the libraries of his noodle – the location of our home…

Kane: I do not know…

PF: You do not know HOW to help, or if you WANT to help?

Kane: Either.  Both.  I do not know.

PF: Remarkable.  Well perhaps you could – HEY, where did he go?

?: What’s that smell?

PF: Oh, hello.  I promise that I did not deal that smell…  Nor am I accusing you, gaggle of armless chaps, that YOU have dealt that smell!  How illogical is it that one who smelts shall also be the one who dealts.  Deals.  Um.  Hello.

?: Hey.  Seriously, what’s that smell?

PF: Well, I do believe it is the giant orating beached whale that is currently baking in the sun behind me.

Blubba: …of course I regret all that garlic I ate last night…

?: Good gracious!  A beached whale!

PF: Yes, that.  That is whom dealt it.

Kicky: C’mon, Kickies, let’s start dousing this thing with water so it doesn’t dehydrate.

PF: So the denizens here are called Kickies.  Note that, Blobby.

Big Kicky: How are we gonna get this thing back in the ocean?  He’s gigantic!

Blubba: …I regret not working off all the decades of holiday pounds…

Big Kicky: Ungh… He won’t budge!

Original Kicky: Well start getting the buckets, maybe it’ll help take the edge off this stink…

Kickies: Yeah!

PF: Well THESE red Kickies are helpful.  I wonder what was the deal with that hooded gray Kicky…

Current Mood: Confuzzled.
Discoveries Made: "Kickies" is the plural of "Kicky." I have Discovered plural Kicky.

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 115

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

Timestamp: Afternoon; Day 115
Weather: UGH.
Landscape: No land in...

NOTES:

Blubba: …the snerls, with their hundreds of Kings, the sea-spiders knitting water garments from denser liquid-silk, the little baby scrumps riding along the current on their little toy hobby-sea-horses.  Yes.  That is all of them, all the creatures that inhabited the one hundred nautical miles in a sphere around my original home.  Now, at long last, a thorough description of my very birth…

B R R R R E E e e e E E R R C H H H G H H!!!

PF: What has happened?

Roy: We hit land!

Blubba: Oh dear – I’m beached!

PF: NO!  He was just about to start his life!

Blubba: And now I am about to start my death!  Beached!  Alas, I am beached!

PF: Um.  Well, so, surely, sir, SURELY we can help you eventually and in the interim, you can continue with your tale?

Blubba: Alas!  I cannot!  Beached!  Like my poor Uncle Toby!

PF: We shall hydrate you, you just need to get to the location of Professor Island!

Blubba: Beached!  Beached!

Blobby: That tears it!  I have been typing my little blobules like CRAZY for ten stupid days STRAIGHT, recording every inane part of your MEANINGLESS AND MEANDERING NONSENSE STORY, you you you CHUB BRAIN, you blabber honky, you terseless arrogant terrorist of brevity!  *huff huff fume huff*

Blubba:
Are you through?

Blobby: Yes.

Blubba:
Good – BEACHED!

Blobby: Gerp!

PF: Do not attempt to strangle this huge neckless beast with your tiny tired hands, Blobby.  He is not worth it.

Blubba: I must now begin my death monologue, painstakingly prepared over many decades for this very happenstance.  *AHEM*

Blobby: Gerp…

DISCOVERY!PF: Yes.  Let us away from Blubba, before Blobby explodes.  Come friends, we walk to find help.

?: Help.  Everyone needs help.

PF: YES.  Um, who are you?  Can you help?

?: I do not know.  Can I?

PF:
I do not know…  Can you?

?: Everyone needs help.

PF: Yes.  Yes you said that.  Who..?

Kane, the lone Stealth Kicky:
My name is Kane.  I am the lone Stealth Kicky.

PF: I keep Discovering the oddest fellows…  Well, MAY you PLEASE help us?

Kane:
Perhaps.

PF: Great.  DISCOVERY!!!

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Current Mood: Unsurprised.
Discoveries Made: Stealth Kicky!!!

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 113

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

Timestamp: WHO KNOWS; Day 113
Weather: ...
Landscape: ...

NOTES:

Blubba: …and so there is a warm current originating in the southwestern seas, well to you it is southwestern, to me there isn’t a compass at all – there is just an infinite loop, a perpetuality that only announces itself through familiar landmarks.  For instance, I know the warm currents are in the southwestern, to you, seas because of the volcanic ring that I bump into each time I have circumnavigated the globe, which has been no more than five thousand three hundred eighty-nine times, no less than five thousand three hundred eighty-seven times.  These warm waters happen to be the very location of my birth, that joyous and horrid occasion whereupon I was catapulted into this disgusting, wicked, sometimes okay world.  But before we arrive at this critical event, let me paint a more vivid picture of the creatures who populated these particular birth waters.  We will start with the mid-wife who birthed me and work in concentric circles away from her until we have covered every cubic inch of that sacred, cruddy place…

Current Mood: ...
Discoveries Made: NOT PROFESSOR ISLAND.

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤