The Chronicles of Professor Fliggins logo

Blobby Log Owners Manual

Tagged: Friendship
Bookmark and Share

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: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Bookmark and Share

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: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

Bookmark and Share

Blobby Log Day 111

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

Timestamp: Middle of Night; Day 111
Weather: Typewriter clicking upward like reverse rain-drop-clacks.
Landscape: The paper, never stopping paper.


Suctiony Big Blue CreatureRoy: How’s it going, Blobert?

Blubba: It is not known ashore, but water is ACTUALLY VERY INTERESTING

Blobby: …mrgle…

Blubba: and I, of all creatures, would know

Roy: Well, I painted some things we passed while Blubba was Blabbering…  This Big Blue – it’s really beautiful from below deck – see?

Blubba: for the water has been possibly the greatest friend I have had

Blobby: Awww…

Blubba: you see that it is strong; it will and it does lead you, yet it yields under my fins when it is time for me to lead it

Roy: *yaawn* Okay, back to bed for me…

Blubba: for I am not so large when considering my liquid atmosphere.  I can be quite small, and the waves I make…
Big Blue Creatures!

Blubba: …imperceptible…

Roy: Good night, Blobby.  You’re doing a good job.

Current Mood: *sigh*
Discoveries Made: Worlds. Worlds are below and inside. I didn't know. I didn't know about all these worlds.

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤

Bookmark and Share

Blobby Log Day 67 (part 2)

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

Timestamp: Evening; Day 67
Weather: Brisk!
Landscape: The Hair grows from the Earth! Is the ground a Face?


PF: All righty, Blobby and Roy.  Whiskerton has brought me to his Beard-Shack.  I must convince this Beard Hair Hill Barber to cease his hair mowing so that I may get my Bean Gas and fly away from all these incessant troubles!

Whiskerton: Come on in, friend.  Have a seat.

PF: Thank you for inviting me into your home, kind sir.  I have much business to discuss with you.

Business?  You’re not gonna try ‘n sell me enchanted teeth or some other such crud?

PF: Enchanted Teeth!  Ho Ho!  What a HI-larious proposition!  Ho ho!  You are HI-LARIOUS FOREVER!

Well, what’re you about then?

PF: Well, my goodly fellow – I would like to give you the chance of a LIFETIME.  Have you ever heard of a little thing called MAGIC?

Whiskerton: ?

PF: Well, sir, I have here a stupendous, non-horrendous, MAGICAL PHOTO-PAITINING SEPTAPUS!

Roy: Say what now?

Whiskerton: I don’t know what the words you’re saying are…

PF: That is right, my cousin – he can photo-paint you a photo-painting instantaneous-like with just a few flicks of his tentacles.

Whiskerton: I don’t think…

PF: Did I mention he is ENCHANTED?

Roy: I should photo-paint his mouth shut…

PF: …AND all you would need to do to own this little be-tentacled wizard is to quit your job forever!  No payment required!

Whiskerton: My job?  Oh no.  No, sir, no, thank you!  I’m a Royal Barber!  I got the best job a Beard like me can get in this here Moustachio Territory!

PF: Not so fast!  Act now, and receive your very own Stenographer Blob!

Blobby: !

Whiskerton: Sorry, pal.  I wouldn’t trade my job for every friend you got in that there log!

PF: Please!  The Mayor of Bean Village is going to give me Bean Gas to power my Kerchief Dirigible if I can just make the periodic Hairstorm that curses his lands cease.

Well, I’d like to help you, but even if I quit, there are a hundred of us Royal Barbers, and we got strict orders to keep these hills shorn short!

PF: A hundred!  Drat sandwich!  I am never going to return to the skies!

Whiskerton: Now buck up, little fella.  You can fly cantcha?  You’re a Moustachio!  All Moustachios can fly!

PF: No, I am not.

Whiskerton: Are you sure?  I mean, you look kinda like one, ‘cept for that pale bulbous growth that’s protrudin’ out your body.

Sir!  I shall have you know that this pale bulbous growth IS my body.  My moustache is subservient to my face, not the other way around!

Whiskerton: A Moustache a servant?  Maybe you DO know magic…  Well, if you’d like to stay for a stretch while you pick up them shattered pieces called your life, by all means, stay with me!

PF: *Sigh* Yes, I believe I will have to.  Thank you, Mr. Whiskerton.

Whiskerton: Not a problem.  I could use a new friend.

PF: I as well.  Though I promise to cease the annoying habit that I have developed to try and exchange my friends for goods and services.


Roy: I’m gonna draw stuff on his face when he goes to sleep.

Blobby: Yeah, I was gonna say.

Current Mood: Defeated and Hopeful.
Discoveries Made: Friendship! Do you HEAR ME! FRIENDS FOREVER!

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤