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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 161

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

Timestamp: Evening; Day 161
Weather: Sweaty!
Landscape: Oh, your typical battlefield...

NOTES:

Two full days of fighting, Mom – how are your Foodlandians holding up?

Mom: They are fortified with the best vitamins and nutrients, but I see their little food bodies growing tired. I don’t know how long we can hold. How are your Professors?

PF: Also waning. The most physical activity they get on a daily basis usually involves eraser-clapping or pencil sharpening. We even had escalators added everywhere since they outlawed stairs forty years ago.

Mom: That is not very healthy.

PF: Luckily, since the battle started, we have had some great technological advances.

Blobby: Lookout!

Zombie Corn Dog: Arrr! Hopefully the forces of evil will soon prevail!

Prescriptive GrammarBot 3000: *Bee-boop* WHEN USING THE WORD “HOPEFULLY,” ONE MAY ONLY REFER TO AN ACTION THAT IS DONE WITH HOPE. OTHERWISE, ONE MUST SAY, “IT IS TO BE HOPED.” *Boo-beep-beep!*

Zombie Corn Dog: Arrr! It is to be hoped that the forces of evil will soon prevail!

Prescriptive GrammarBot 3000: *Doot-doot!* SPLIT INFINITIVE! *Gooble-boop!*

Zombie Corn Dog: Arrr! Gimme something to bludgeon this robot with!

Prescriptive GrammarBot 3000: *WEE-ooo-WEE-ooo!* DANGER! DANGER! PREPOSITION AT END OF SENTENCE THREATENING MODERN CIVILIZATION! COMMUNICATION BREAK DOWN! WARNING! INCOMPLETE SENTENCES! COMMENCE MOUTH-TO-SOAP RINSING SEQUENCE B! *BOOOOOSH!*

Zombie Corn Dog: *Glug glug glug!* I’m outta here!

Prescriptive GrammarBot 3000: OUT OF HERE! OUT OF HERE! OUT OF HERE!

PF: That was close! The poor sentence construction of these fiends threatens to overwhelm us! That GrammarBot almost had its syntactical programming overloaded…

Mr. Demon: PROFESSORS! I GROW TIRED OF TOYING AROUND! I AM ACTUALLY GETTING VERY TIRED! ZOMBIE FOOD! ASSEMBLE!

Mom: What is he doing to my poor enslaved foodstuffs?

PF: They appear to be climbing on top of one another into some kind of clump. Some kind of big ball wad. A wad of trapped food spirits. A clump spirit!

Mom: Why!

Mr. Demon: MY SPHERE OF ZOMBIE TRANS-FATTIES WILL ROLL OVER YOUR HOMES AND TRAP YOU IN THEIR STICKY PRESERVATIVE-HEAVY, HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP GRIP!

PF: Oh no! We cannot possibly create distracting discourse with a giant orb of sticky foods!

Mom: Fall back! Fall back to the center of the island!

Roy: Hey, that weird comb-over guy is talking to Mr. Demon. Who is that guy?

CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH

PF: The ball rolls toward us! And it gets bigger with all the things it scoops up! Eekers!

CRUNCH CRUNCH SPLUNCH

Mr. Demon: Follow them, zombie wad! To the Professor Island Library!

Blobby: How would he know where the Library is?

Roy: It’s that trench coat guy next to Mr. Demon! I smell a rat! Or possibly a possum!

CRUNCH CRUNCH CRICKUNCH

WAR!PF: I fear we will not be able to fall back, it is too fast! Aiiieeee!

CRUNCH CRUNCH BUUUUNNNNNNGGGGGOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!

Professor Professor: Another giant sphere!? We are doomedsy goners assuredly!

PF: Wait, it hit the other giant sphere? It is pushing the zombies away!

Bingo Clem: Hey, Buddy! Got your letter!

Mom: That other giant ball, it seems to be made of arms and legs and tentacles…

Professor Professor: …and teeth and doors and discarded vacuum cleaner parts…

PF: Why it is an equally impressive giant ball made of my friends from the ISLE OF DETACHED SHAWNIMALS!

Bingo Clem: Hey, Mr. Fliggins! Heard you needed help from your fellow Detached pals and of course everyone gathered at once! We were so excited, we got all rolled up into this clump of destruction!

Detached Clump: Hi, Fliggins!

Bingo Clem: We should have no problem taking on these food zombies!

PF: Vice Chancellor, you are a great detached pal to be sure!

Mom: Wonderful! Hold your ground, Foodlandians! Reinforcements have arrived!

Foodlandians: Hooray!

Professors: Huzzah!

PF: The war is not over yet. But oh golly, I am thankful for these friends.

Current Mood: Rejuvenated!
Discoveries Made: Bingo Clem is my friend!

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

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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.

NOTES:

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!

*WOOOOOOOSHHH*

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!

*FLOOOOSSSHHHH!*

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: Hold tight!  Here we gooooo OOOOOOOOOOOOO HHHHHHHOOOOOOSSSSSSSS HHHHHHHHHHHH ZZZZZZZZZZZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MMMMMMMMMMMMMM GGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSH HHHHHHHHH ShShShShSHHH SHHHSHHHSHHHHHHH!*

****************************************

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!

*WEEEEEOOOOOOO SHHHHHOOOOOMMMMMM!*

Mom:
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.

Fliggins

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.

NOTES:

There the last letter of plea is complete!

*BOOOM!*

?: 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.

*KA-BLOOOEY!*

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.

NOTES:

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’vprofessorisland.com 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.

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

PF: Fancy!  Okay.  OH GREAT AND ANCIENT PROFESSORS, BLESS MY NUBBINS WITH THE POWER TO PERSUADE!  OUR FUTURE’S HISTORY IS AT STAKE!

*CRRRRREEEEEEAAAAAK*
*BAM BAM BAM BAM*

Mom: Please hurry.

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

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤