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?
Blubba: Good – BEACHED!
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*
?: 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?
PF: Great. DISCOVERY!!!