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Blobby Log Owners Manual

Tagged: Foodlandia
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Blobby Log Day 158

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

Timestamp: Dawn; Day 158
Weather: Calm, as if before something...
Landscape: Devil and Zombie ruined shores of Foodlandia.


Mom: Bring those Gravy Boats around!  Now!

PF: I cannot believe how many Devils flew over the Jello Mold Bunkers.  Professor Island is doo…

Mom: Don’t you start dooming now!  We are going to do our best.  And maybe your friends will come.  I mean, we sent a message to a pair of Vampire Pants!  Truly a powerful ally!

PF: Yes…

Distressed Jug of Milk: Ahhh!  Hurricane Cy is back!


Foodlandians: Ahhhh!  Help!  Not again!

Cy of the Storm: Hey, guys!  What’s up over here?

Mom: Stay away, Cy!  Your havoc-wreaking isn’t wanted back here!

Hobo Sandwich: Yeah!  You blew away our house!

Cy of the Storm: Aw, come on!  I just wanna chillax!  What are you doing, some kind of war?

Mom: Yes.  Please let us get back to preparing the war ships.

Cy of the Storm: Ooooh, Gravy Boats!  Tasty!

Moustachia: Hewe’s the Diwigibew, Mama!

Mom: Please, call me “Mom.”

PF: Oh, I am sorry, she was talking to me.  Thank you, Moustachia.  Have the Freckles prepare the Wicker Basket for sea travel.  Those poor innocent Professors back home will be so interested in Discovering, Mr. Demon will surely conquer them all almost immediately!

Moustachia: Wight!

PF: Even the smartest Professors will probably just want to engage in meaningful dialogue or something…

Hobo Sandwich: Wait a second!  What’s this “Wicker Basket” nonsense!  That’s not a boat or an airship or a tank… that’s…  that’s OUR HOUSE!

Hobo Napkin: What the…  You BIG JERK!

Hobo Sandwich: Let me look at it…  Aw, crap, look at this place!

PF: There is probably just a mistake, I Discovered this basket myself!

Hobo Sandwich: Look, you dummy, this is our HOME.  It even has a picture of us on the bedroom wall.  You’ve been flying around the universe in our house!

Hobo Napkin: Just getting your grubby little nubbins all over our doilies and making it stink like BEAN FARTS.  This is a travesty…

PF: No, this is my basket.  It was my first real Discovery!  I am very proud of that!  It washed up onto the shores of Professor Island, I made it into a Gingerfizz powered Kerchief Dirigible, and I flew it off of Professor Island to have all manner of wacky, but endearing ADVENTURES.

Cy of the Storm: That’s when you met me!  When you were leaving Professor Island!

Hobo Sandwich: Of course you two are friends.  You hang out at the Monster’s Ball, I’m sure.

Cy of the Storm: Hey, I’m not a Monster!  I’m just bein’ me!

Hobo Napkin: The whole planet is BONKERS.  You big storm, you stole our house and gave it to this lard tub!  You ruined OUR LIVES!

Cy of the Storm: What?  I… I did?  I just want to meet people and be me an’ stuff.  I don’t want to hurt anyone.  Buh… Buh-huh… BAHHHHH!  AH—AH—AHHHH!


Mom: Oh, no, he’s crying.  He’ll drown us all.  Please someone make the horrible storm happy again!

PF: Hey, Cy.  It is okay.  It is okay.  Hush now.

Cy of the Storm: BWAHHH!  I’M A MONSTER!

PF: No, honey, no.  You are not a monster.

Hobo Napkin: Yeah, you’re worse!

PF: NO!  No.  Cy, you are a nice fellow.  Perhaps the nicest weather pattern with which I have ever conversed.

Cy of the Storm: *sniff* You’re jus’ sayin’ that because you don’t wanna drown…

PF: No no!  I mean it!  I am sincere.  You are definitely the kindest collection of fury and moisture I have ever, ever talked to.  I guarantee.

Cy of the Storm: Really?  But I ruined everything.  Those nice folks are homeless because of me.

PF: I know, I know.  Look, you could maybe redeem yourself.  You want to redeem yourself?

Cy of the Storm: *guh, snort* Uh-huh…

PF: Well, listen, do you remember how you carried me very far from home and dumped me in the Hot Dog Kingdom?

Cy of the Storm: Yeah…

PF: Well, we all need to be taken back to Professor Island so we can beat Mr. Demon there.  Can you carry us home?

Cy of the Storm: Yeah!  Yeah, I can do that!  EASY!

Hobo Sandwich: What about us?  I can’t sleep another night in that brown paper sack!

Mom: Citizen, I promise you that if we are able to defeat evil from the world, when we return, you will not only have a new home, but I shall give you a cushy government job here in Supermarket City.  And I am making this pledge in front of Foodlandia news reporters, so you know I mean it!

Hobo Lunch Bunch: Hooray!



Cy of the Storm: Okay, here you all are, Professor Island!  Now I’m gonna try and slow down that Mr. Demon we passed on the way in!  See you soon!

PF: Bye, Cy!


Who knew the worst natural disaster in my country’s history was such a chill dude.

Professor Starney: *Bluster noises* What is happening?  What is all this NEWNESS?

Professor Glappletrap: So.  Much.  Discovery.

Professor Haggledorn: Anthropomorphic Food Stuffs!  I coined the terminology first!  Discovery!

Professor Starney: Hovering Feminine Adolescent Facial Hair!  Discovery!

Professor Glappletrap: I am going to count the new wrinkles on Fliggins’ face!  Discovery!  Discovery!  Discovery!

Professors: Discovery!  Get the tags!  Hold down that giant fish stick!

PF: WAIT!  FRIENDS!  PLEASE.  Please.  We are in mortal danger!  Turn the Discoverist in you off momentarily.

Professor Professor: What is happening?

Professors: Professor Professor!

Professor Professor: Frederick, what are you doing here?  We thought you had been eaten by a Sandworm!

PF: Professor Professor, Sir!  These are my new friends, Mom and the Foodlandians.

Roy: Sounds like a sweet band…

PF: And they are here to help us because a very angry and evil fellow named Mr. Demon is on his way here to enslave all of Professor Island and exploit the valuable knowledge of the Universe amassed in our hallowed institutions!

Professor Professor: Zounds!  Professors, stop Discover-mouth-foaming!

Mom: Sir, my soldiers can help you prepare a defense if your Professors will promise not to tranquilize and tag them.

Professor Professor: You heard the somewhat… womanly-shaped… food… thingie? Professors UNITE!

Mom: Come with me, there isn’t much time.

PF: Oh goodness, so much excitement!

Most Best Professor!Professor Professor: Frederick, I am in shock.  We thought you had been lost.

PF: I was lost, Sir.  I was lost here and I had to go away.  But now I am home.  I claim this place as home and will defend it for a forever!

Professor Professor: Frederick, you have apparently matured a great deal in your studies abroad.  You seem almost the opposite of the maladjusted, uncoordinated, unpopular recluse you used to be.

PF: You know, in the face of so much daily exasperation and tribulation, I HAD to adapt or else perish.

Professor Professor: I do believe you have made a Discovery more vital than any Museum or Textbook could ever house.  By Discovering yourself, my young Professor, you have perhaps set us ALL free.  When you live on an Island such as ours, time only breeds deeper and deeper myopia.

PF: I thank you, Sir, and I surely do appreciate the attention and esteem BUT if we do not prepare for the invasion, the only thing we shall Discover is DESTRUCTION!

Professor Professor: INDEED!  Thank you for shaking our dust, Frederick.

PF: You are welcome… Most welcome.  Discovery.


Current Mood: Alive.
Discoveries Made: Me.

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

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Blobby Log Day 157

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 11: Foodlandia > Vol. 1

Timestamp: Evening; Day 157
Weather: Bleary-eyed!
Landscape: Dust-covered Foodlandia War-room.


There the last letter of plea is complete!


?: grrrroooannnn!

Fish Stick Guard Captain: Mom!  Mom!  Mr. Demon has broken through the Automatic Gates!  He’s turned the rural Foodlandians into some kind of ZOMBIES and they’re fighting us!

Mom: Oh no.

PF: Sounds like Mr. Demon has used his wicked Dark Syrup to add to his forces with your people, Mom.

Mom: Then we are lost for now.  Fish Stick Captain, your troops have fought bravely, now fall back to the Jello Mold Bunkers.  Evacuate Supermarket City.

Fish Stick Guard Captain: Yes, Mom.

Mom: You say Professor Island is just South of here?

PF: Yes, that is what I am told.

Mom: Then we will deliver your messages to all your friends around the continent, and tell them to meet us there.  Mr. Demon may get there first, but I think there is one last battle in us!

photopainting157PF: How heroic!  Moustachia, please fly to the Dirigible and have the Lumps bring it to the shore.


Zombie Pork Rind: Raaaarrrr!

Mom: To the Jello Bunkers!

Current Mood: Jostled!
Discoveries Made: Climacticality!

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 156

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 11: Foodlandia > Vol. 1

Timestamp: High Noon; Day 156
Weather: Dust snows down from the rafters.
Landscape: The Foodlandia War Room.


I wish that I had been a more attentive student in my Defensive War Strategies class at Professor Island University, but it was incredibly boring.  It seems actual war is much less yawn-inducing.

Mom: Yes, yes.  We’ve exhausted most of our reserve ketchup and the mustard’s been coagulating much faster on the cannon barrel.  The advancing Devils are relentless.  I don’t think we can hold them off much longer.

PF: But you must!  They are trying to get to my Professor Island so Mr. Demon can enslave my Professor people and exploit their superior scientific and historical knowledge.  You are the last barrier between he and they!

Mom: I’m sorry, we just don’t have the resources.  Fliggins, do you know why I invited you into the war room instead of having you thrown into a TV Dinner Freezer Cell?

PF: Because you were charmed by my huggably soft middle-region?

Mom: Hardly.  As ruler of Foodlandia, I’ve tried to do right by my Foodlandians.  I make sure everyone is happy here and also that they are not exploited by outsiders who would find them delicious and kidnap them for picnics and brunches.  We’re a peaceful land, but also isolated.  Fliggins, we don’t have any exterior friends or allies.  We tried sending emissaries to the Hot Dog Kingdom, but that angry King would not listen to them.  He forgot from where his Hot Dog ancestors immigrated.   I could tell you were a Foreigner, and as such, I was hoping you could call your home and bring us aid.

PF: But as I have been trying to tell you, I cannot reach home.  Your shores lprofessorisland.comt is where my people are contemplating Belly Button Philosophy.  THEY need YOUR help.

Mom: Then I fear both our countries are doomed.

Blobby: Pssst!  PF!

PF: What is it, Blobby?  Cannot you tell we are being very doomsy and sad about our hopeless fate?

Blobby: Listen!  Foodlandia might not have any foreign friends, but YOU do!

Roy: Yeah, we’ve been flying around the whole world for the last YEAR meeting all kinds of friends.  Like Moustachia here.

Moustachia: Hewwo!

Blobby: PF, we have friends!  They’re ridiculous and misguided, but we’ve basically been hanging out with the rulers of almost every country we’ can call on all of them to come help.

PF: I suppose we HAVE made a lot of friendships.  Though I have also been very impatient and rude about getting home.  Do you think they would help me?

Blobby: It’s worth a shot.  You can be a jerk a little, but there’s something loveable about you.  I mean, it’s pretty admirable how hard you’ve been fighting to save home.  Maybe people would admire that in you too and come.

PF: It is worth a shot.  This is a tall order, Blobby.  It is not like I am asking them to help me move – they will have to fight!

Mom: Honestly, Professor, this is the only chance we have.

PF: Right-o!  Mom, do you have any fast messengers?

Mom: Yes!  The Energy Drink Express are the fastest creatures in all of Shawnimaland.  To the extreme.

PF: The extreme is where we are!  I will quickly draft nine letters of plea, but not sound too desperate, just casually ask for the assistance of each land’s most powerful warriors.  That is all.

As soon as each letter is finished, we will send it off with our messengers.



Mom: Please hurry.

Current Mood: Purposed.
Discoveries Made: I may actually have real friends. I may have real real friends.

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 151

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 11: Foodlandia > Vol. 1

Timestamp: Midnight; Day 151
Weather: Ketchup rains down like scripture.
Landscape: Like we are walking upon one giant meatloaf. I think we actually are...


I surely do apologize, sir – I did not mean to…

Hobo Sandwich: …To take a bite out of MY HEAD?  Of course you didn’t mean to, ya moron!

?: Earl, what’s going on out there?  What are you doing?

Hobo Sandwich: Nothing, honey, just stay in the sack.

?: I’m not going to stay inside the sack when it’s being picked up in the middle of the night and some giant nubbin reaches through our ceiling and picks you up and… OH MY GOD, EARL – YOUR HEAD!

Hobo Sandwich: Now don’t go makin’ a big stink, it’s just a bite…

Hobo Napkin: Just a bite?  Half your head is gone!

Hobo Sandwich: Go back in the sack, Doreen, I’m handling this…

Hobo Napkin: Oh, sure, then this monstrosity can reach in and blow his big nose into me…

PF: Big nose?

Hobo Napkin: Use what’s left of your head, Earl!  And here I thought you couldn’t get any dumber…

Hobo Sandwich: Will you pipe down!  I can’t hear myself think…

Hobo Napkin: Oh that’s odd, because I can hear you think just fine and it sounds to me like the Hunchback’s finally moved out of the bell-tower you were bad for his IMAGE!

PF: *snicker*

Hobo Napkin: What are you laughing at, ugly?

PF: Oh, please do not point your disdain at me, madame!

Hobo Napkin: Oh, I’m just warming up, you…

?: Wahhhh!

Hobo Napkin: Look what you two did, you woke up the kids!

PF: Your children are corn chips?

Hobo Napkin: Hey, you got no room to judge, you hang around with a pile of snot, flying facial hair, and a debilitated sea monster.

Blobby, Moustachia, & Roy: Hey!

Hobo Corn Chip Kid #1: Wahhh!  Mommy, the bad man broke me in half!

Hobo Napkin: Oh, good lord, let me look at you…  Well at least it was a clean break…

Hobo Corn Chip Kid #2: Is Francis going to the chip bag in the sky, Mommy?

Hobo Napkin: No, sweetheart – he’ll be fine after we get some nacho powder to bind his wounds…

Hobo Corn Chip Kid #1: I don’t wanna go to the sky bag, Mommy!

Hobo Napkin: Do you see what you’ve done?  How am I gonna afford nacho binding powder in THIS economy?  We’re not even insured…

PF: I am terribly sorry, I…

Hobo Napkin: Pa-tooey! I spit on your sorries!  Tooey pa-tooey!

PF: Spitting napkins?! I would like to make it up to you.  How may I acquire the necessary items to mend your family?

Hobo Sandwich: We can only get those inside the walls of Supermarket City over there, and there seems to be a war going on, so the gate’s closed…

PF: Well, I need to get in as it is the last obstacle between me and my home…

Hobo Napkin: You know what was the obstacle between my home and you?  A thin wall of brown paper!  Now get out of here already while we figure out whose turn it is to sleep in the cellophane sleeping bag tonight.

Hobo Sandwich: Now settle down, Doreen.  Maybe this tubby guy can carry us through the secret path  into Supermarket City where we could finally talk to M-O-M.

Hobo Napkin: Hmmm…  Maybe…  He would just have to stop shattering the bodies of my children.

PF: Yes!  Show us the secret way and I will take you to this Mom…

Hobo Napkin: Oh wow, he can spell!

Hobo Sandwich: All right, let’s go then.

Blobby: I wonder if there are marriage counselors in Supermarket City…

Hobo Napkin: I heard that!  Mind your business, snot pile!

PF: Very good – on to Supermarket City!

Current Mood: So close, so close, so close...
Discoveries Made: The unique family dynamic of the Hobo Lunch Bunch.

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 150

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 11: Foodlandia > Vol. 1

Timestamp: Dusk; Day 150
Weather: Red Rain..?
Landscape: Tasty...


Lump Treads: Lump.  Lump.  Lump.  Lump.

PF: How much farther to Foodlandia, Stubbler Hankie?

Stubbler Hankie: I am not sure, Frederick.

Roy: Eeek!  Devils approaching!

Blobby: Eeek?

Flying Devils: Yucks!  We’s coateds!  Falls back!

PF: It looks as if they are covered in their own… blood?  It is drippy!

Flying Devils: Sicks!   It burns ands stuff!

Blobby: Hey!  They dripped on me!  The Devil blood!  Ahhhh!  AHhhh!  It’s getting all over, it’s getting in my mouth, it’s… kinda tasty?

PF: What?  Let me taste… That is not Devil blood.  It is Catsup!

Roy: Ketchup.

PF: What did I say?

Roy: Look!

PF: I think we are at Foodlandia…  Lumps, HALT!

Roy: Wow!  Looks like the Foodlandians are giving Mr. Demon a run for his evil money!

Foodlandia Fish Stick Guard: Ketchup cannons, FIRE AT WILL!


Mr. Demon: It’s just condiments, people – get back here and fight you ninnies!  Regroup! Regroup!

PF: HaHA!  That shall teach that old meanie!  Luckily, he appears to have his hands super full right now, buying us time.  My those are some fortified walls.  I am just now wondering how we ourselves expect to get through them, what with the war going on and all…

Blobby: Yeah, without getting a faceful of tomato justive ourselves…

PF: Let us disembark here, just outside the fracas…  We shall survey the surrounding area to see whether or not we can break in.

Roy: I dunno, PF – those walls are HUGE.  This place looks like the most fortified supermarket I’ve ever seen!

PF: Truth to that… Hmm… Supermarket… Foodlandia, for some unknown reason, has reminded me just how hungry I have become.

Moustachia: I wondew why…

PF: Oh look, a bagged lunch – just sitting here!

CRUNCH!Blobby: How eerily convenient…

PF: Let us peruse our spoils – eh, lads?  Chips, a napkin, and HELLO HAM SANDWICH!  Our luck is changing.  *CRUNCH*

?: ARGHHH!  My head!  My head and face!

PF: *mmph* Ruh-roh.

?: AHH-oweeow ow ow!

PF: Sorry, sir.  I, um…  Well, I really should have seen this coming…

Ham Sandwich: Oh!  Agony!

Oh!  Discovery!

Discovery Link!

Current Mood: It is very difficult to describe my Feelings right now...
Discoveries Made: The Hobo Lunch Bunch!

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤