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Blobby Log Owners Manual

Tagged: Moustachios
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Blobby Log Day 73

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

Timestamp: Evening; Day 73
Weather: Tis raining chocolate nummers in my mouth!
Landscape: The Prime Ministache's private quarters!

NOTES:

*slurrrrrrp*  Thank you for this delicious chocolatey beverage, Mr. Ministache.

Prime Ministache: I hope it sufficiently cheers you out of your weeping stupor!

PF: *slurrrrrrp*  I believe it has.  I had no idea how different the lives of Moustachios and Beards were.  It is no wonder the Beards are all so angry.  Whiskerton is mega-angelic!

Prime Ministache: It’s true, lad.  I have attempted much to try and better the lot of Beards in the Territory, like creating the Royal Barber position that Whiskerton holds – but it’s never enough.  I must say – I am quite fed up with this gap.

PF: *slurrrrrrp*  Mm-hmm.

Prime Ministache: I swear it, after the Barbers complete the Great Spring Hill Shaving, I am going to DO something.

PF: *slurrrrrrp – hack!*  The Great what now?

Prime Ministache: Hill Shaving.  This Spring, the Barbers are shaving all the Hills of Moustachio Territory, and not just the areas underneath our flying castles like before.  Now they’ll cut all the Hills!  It was my idea to put more Beards to work!

PF: Oh dearie me!  Mr. Ministache, if you put that much hair into the atmosphere, it will surely drive the Beans to war!  To war they will go!  They are crazy!

Prime Ministache: War?  But the Beans are peaceful!

PF: And they are ALSO CRAZY.  They have probably just been peaceful because they had a giant spinning wheel that told them to be so.  But they despise that flying hair…

Prime Ministache: Well, the Beards have already started!  That’s where I sent Whiskerton this morning – to oversee the operation as a promotion!

PF: Sir, rally the Royal Moustachio Air Force!  We must fly to the Bean Village immediately.

Prime Ministache: I will not fly to war, my good man!

PF: Not war, I will explain on the way – we may yet stop this impending war and could achieve greater social justice as well!  I have… A PLAN!

Current Mood: Determined to un-fail!
Discoveries Made: Purpose!

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 68 (part 1)

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

Timestamp: Morning; Day 68
Weather: I can breathe this here hairy atmosphere without the aid of lung goggles!
Landscape: Whiskerton's humble but lovely domicile.

NOTES:

FriendshipWhat a lovely night’s rest!  Trudging through hair storms is more tiring than one would think!  Good morning, new friend Whiskerton!

Whiskerton: Morning, Fred!  You sleep good?

PF: Like a baby angel!

Whiskerton: Great.  My home might not be a Moustachio Castle, but it’s got the market cornered on cozy!  Help yourself to some breakfast in the kitchen.

PF: DELIGHTFUL!  Walk, walk, walk, walking away…

Blobby: Pssssst, Whiskerton!

Whiskerton: Who’s talkin’?

Blobby: Hey, it’s me, Blobby – in the log!

Whiskerton: Talkin’ logs!  What’ll that bulbous feller bring here next?

Blobby: Hey, so, don’t tell PF that Roy and me painted a bunch of warts and scars on his face last night.  We had to teach him a lesson for being so jerk-headed!

Whiskerton: Oh, that’s paint?  I just thought that he naturally got more hideous overnight, since he already looks like a deformed Moustachio.  Your secret’s safe with me, talkin’ log!

Blobby: Shh!  He’s coming back!

PF: Walk, walk, walk, walking back into the room… I shall tell you, Whiskerton, your hospitality is like a warm blanket wrapped around my shivering and hypothermic Heart.  I am so grateful to you!

Whiskerton: It ain’t nothin’, Fred.  Poor deformed feller like yourself could use a little respite and retreat!

Blobby: *snicker*

PF: So, Whiskerton, why will you not quit your job for me?  I would do you oh so many favors.  I will TOTALLY be your best friend for a forever!

Whiskerton: Well, Fred, I can’t give up my work.  It might not be the most glamorous life, but as far as Beards in Moustachio Territory are concerned, I’m basically a celebrity!

PF: From hair-lawn care?

Whiskerton: You don’t understand.  Us Beards are ground-bound here in Moustachio Territory, living simple lives with basic pleasures.  But we and the Territory are controlled by the Moustachios, them flyin’ Moustaches you might see zoomin’ ‘round out the window.  They live on floatin’ islands in the sky, where they monitor and legislate us from above.

PF: Flying!  Oh, Whiskerton, I LOVE flying.  Can we see these magical flying islands?

Whiskerton: I’d love to.  But Beards aren’t allowed up there.  We can only speculate what goes on in that floating kingdom.  I bet they got all kinds of fancy cheeses and high-tech primpin’ equipment!

PF: Well, perhaps I cannot get you to quit your job, but if you help me acquire the necessary Bean Gas from the Mayor of Bean Village, I promise to take you in my Dirigible to those floating castles in the sky!

Whiskerton: That sounds like a fine deal, Mr. Fliggins – a fine deal indeed!

PF: MARVELOUS.  May I accompany you to work today so as to devise a plan for ending the hair storm?

Whiskerton: You sure can!  Oh boy, flying castles…  I can taste them fancy cheeses now!

?: *squeak!*

Current Mood: Content and Focused.
Discoveries Made: Deal-Making with Beard-Creatures!

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤