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Blobby Log Owners Manual

Tagged: Prime Ministache
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Blobby Log Day 74

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

Timestamp: Afternoon; Day 74
Weather: WINDY!
Landscape: Racing so fast into my face!


Hurry, Prime Ministache – we must be FASTER than the wind!

Prime Ministache: I am flying as fast as I can!

PF: There they are!  Descend!  Descend!

Prime Ministache: You shall pluck the hairs from me!  Calm your grip, sir!

FIGHT!PF: I AM SO EXCITED!  Look at everyone assembled; these Beans must ONLY have public events!  Let us land behind that Bean Vendor Tent so that we may try and get close to the Mayor.  Yes, very good.  You, Bean, what is going on here?

Random Bean: This is the annual Wrestling Match between the Hot Dog King and our Bean Village Mayor – DUH.  Now leave me alone, ya mutant – they’re smack talking!

Hot Dog King: We’re evenly tied, Mayor – exactly 1,734 to 1,734 matches won apiece.  Today’s bout will decide the juju of our lands for the next 300 years – I sure hope nothing catastrophic ruins this moment!

PF: *ulp!*

Mayor of Bean Village: Quit your jibber jabber, King Weenie – LET’S DO THIS!

Crowd: WOOOO!!!

Miss Bean Village: ROUND ONE!  Tee-hee!

Hot Dog King: I’m gonna bun you, Beany!

Mayor of Bean Village: Bring it on, Meat Tube!

Hot Dog King: Taste my fury!  Hey, why is the sun being blotted out by that foreboding cloud?

PF: That’s the Hairstorm, your highness.

Mayor of Bean Village: THE HAIRSTORM!  I sent you to STOP the Hairstorm, Mutant!  The day is ruined!   BEANS, ASSEMBLE!  WE’RE GOING TO WAR!

Bean Crowd: HOORAY!

Prime Ministache: Sir!  Please, it does not have to come to this.

Hot Dog King: Hairstorm?  During Annual Wrestling Day?  That tears it!  Hot Dogs, prepare to attack the Moustachio Territory!

Hot Dog Crowd: HOORAY!

Prime Ministache: Gentlemen, surely we can avoid war!  Professor Fliggins, you must intervene!

Hot Dog King: This Pastry?  Intervene?  He couldn’t even find my crown!

Mayor of Bean Village: Beanchowski!  Fetch the Splashy Smashy apparatus so we can dispose of this Mutant once and for all.

PF: Now wait you reactionary loons!  LOOK!  IN THE DISTANCE!

Miss Bean Village: *gasp!*

Mayor of Bean Village: The Hair!  It’s stopped!

Hot Dog King: But how?  Is that a wall?

PF: Nay!  Peer through my extending Monocle and be amazed!

Mayor of Bean Village: Why, the Beards and Moustachios – they’ve caught the Hairstorm in giant… hairnets!

Hot Dog King: …woven of more discarded hair!  Ingenious!

PF: Thank you.

King and Mayor: WAR CANCELLED!

Crowd: HOORAY!

PF: *phew!*

Prime Ministache: Well done, Fliggins!  You saved us all from violence!

Miss Bean Village: How did you do it?

PF: I will tell you, but first, can someone PLEASE fetch my Dirigible and bring it here?  I must FLY and shall never be without it AGAIN.

Hot Dog King: Certainly!  Sausage Cadet, fetch the Pastry’s Airship!

Mayor of Bean Village: Beanchowski, get this Mutant some Bean Gas!

Prime Ministache: Royal Moustachio Air Force, come at once to aide in the Professor’s departure!

PF: Hooray!

Crowd: HOORAY!

Hair Net

Current Mood: Heroic!
Discoveries Made: REDEMPTIONS!

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤

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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!


*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 72

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

Timestamp: Morning; Day 72
Landscape: A Floating Castle Couched in Clouds!


Oh, BLOBBY – I slept on a bed made of clouds last night!  Hairy clouds!

I do believe we Professors ARE descended from Moustachios because I AM GETTING USED TO THIS!  I AM SO GETTING USED TO THIS!  GETTING USED TO THIS IN MY HEART HEART HEART!

Please stop yelling into my log.

PF: I am SORRY, Blobby, but my soul will not cease its frolicking and that makes me EXCLAIM LOUDLY.

Blobby: Ugh.

Prime Ministache: Good morning, gentlemen – I trust you slept well.

Oh, Prime Ministache sir, I slept delectably!

Prime Ministache:
Capital.  And what about you, Mr. Whiskerton, how was your rest?

Sir, I didn’t sleep.

Prime Ministache: Oh?

How is that EVEN POSSIBLE?

Well I’ll tell ya – I appreciate you sending the Royal Moustachio Air Force to save us from getting pulverized by my buddies and all, and I certainly am privileged to be in your fancy castle, but I’m feelin’ kinda rotten.

Prime Ministache: Like you have abandoned your People, perhaps?

Whiskerton: Yessir.  Workin’ as a Royal Barber and hanging around Professor Fred here, it’s like I’m trying to be more civilized and so-phisticated than’s natural.  It’s like I’m pretending to be a Moustachio when I’m just a lowly Beard.  Those fellas don’t mean to be so ornery – but considering how none of them have as nice a job as me, I mean, I’d be angerfied myself!

Prime Ministache:
Well, Whiskerton, we see a lot from up here that you “lowly” Beards do, and we’ve been keeping a close watch on you since you started taking care of the little Baby ‘Stache you rescued…

Baby ‘Stache: *meep!*

Whiskerton: Oh Moustachia?  You know about her too?  Good grief, I AM a sell-out!

PF: Well, clearly!

Prime Ministache: Mr. Whiskerton, your only ethical concern should be that you are TOO kind!  To be honest, so many of the creatures we see from on high could learn something from you.  The bickering between Beards and Moustachios, the Beans and their ridiculous legal system, those bonkers Hot Dogs with their immature King – it’s all simply madness!

Whiskerton: I suppose you’re right, sir – this IS a crazy world.  I don’t know, even though I’m being pulled every which way, there’s something in me that’ll never turn away helpless critters like Moustachia and Fred here – even if it fetches me gobs of trouble.  I just can’t say no to creatures in need.  Sigh…

Prime Ministache: That’s why we saved you, Whiskerton – because someone should finally be rewarded for bringing our peoples together.  I am getting on in years, and frankly, I can’t stomach much more of the disparity between Moustachios and Beards.  You’re a remarkable fellow for seeing past what’s on all our hairy surfaces.

Aw heck, thank you, sir.

PF: Whiskerton, you…  you really want to help EVERYBODY?

Whiskerton: Well, yeah, I suppose so, Fred.

PF: *sniff*  So…  touching…

Whiskerton: What’s that?

PF: *BUH-BUH! buh-huh-huh!*

Prime Ministache: There there, Professor.  Don’t weep, man.

Just let him cry it out.  It’s the only way now.

PF: He is just so NICE!  *Guh-HUH!*

Prime Ministache: Oh my.

Whiskerton: It’s okay, Fred.  Here take my hankerchief!


Whiskerton: I forgive you, Fred.

PF: FORGIVENESS!  *Bah-huh bah-huh bah-huh-huh-hic!*

Discoveries Made: It is like, LIFE is SO HARD, and there is ALL of THESE THINGS keeping us apart from one another, YOU KNOW? It is not just, like, TOLERANCE, you know? It is like ACCEPTANCE, no matter what kind of facial hair creature you are.

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 71 (part two)

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

Timestamp: Afternoon; Day 71
Weather: The air is as crisp as diploma paper!
Landscape: The luxurious opulence makes my moustache curl!


S H H H H H H O O O O O M M M  !

PF: Thank you, RMAF!  What nice fellows.  Simply lovely.

Whiskerton: Wow, look at this place, Fred!  It’s so majestical!

PF: Pardon? Did you just say…

Whiskerton: I said MAJESTICAL!

PF: Yes, YES! I too find myself overwhelmed by this floating castle’s majesty.   Look at all the Moustachios zooming about!  Everything is golden-trimmed and beauteous!  Bring on the silken Moustache cuffs!  Bring on the fancy cheeses!

Whiskerton: Yeah.  Hmmph…

PF: What is wrong, Whiskerton?  I thought that you wanted to see the floating Moustachio castles.

Whiskerton: Well now, that’s true enough.  It’s just them boys what was chasing us – those are my FRIENDS, you know?

PF: Those dreadful vagabonds?  Whiskerton, you are in a CASTLE in the SKY – it is probably illegal to be sad here it is so amazing!

Whiskerton: That just might be true, pal.  I don’t know.  Being a Royal Barber is the swellest job a Beard can get, but the guys were always giving me guff for cavorting with Moustaches.  Now as soon as I meet you, I’m swept away by the ‘Stachios and in their super fine castle.  I feel like a sell-out, maybe.

PF: Well good!  Be a sell-out!  Look at all the fantastical things you get to see and do by selling-out!  You get to fly, Whiskerton!  You get to walk upon the clouds!  You get freedom!  Down in the Territory you are constantly dirty, you live in a tiny hair-house, and your “friend” had GLASS stuck to his FACE.  That is hardly living!

Whiskerton: Now slow down, Fred – that’s MY home and those are MY friends!

?: Please don’t bicker.

Whiskerton: But he was insulting my people!

PF: And he is being a dander-headed simpleton!

Whiskerton: I’ll show you simple!  Wait…  The Prime Ministache?  Oh goodness!  Sorry, sir!  I didn’t mean disrespect, sir!  Bow on yer knee, Fred – that’s my boss, the Prime Ministache of Moustachio Kingdom!

Prime Ministache: Now now, get up.  I won’t stand for kneelers.  Until we can straighten out what to do with you, you two are guests of the Moustachio Kingdom.  Please, gentlemen – follow me.

Whiskerton: If you got me in trouble with my boss, Fred, I swear I’ll have you tarred and bearded!

The Prime Ministache!

Current Mood: Conundrummed.
Discoveries Made: Racial Tension!

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤