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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.


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?


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!


Flying Devils: Sicks! Beans juice! Sticky beans juice!

Bonzo: Okay, RMAF! NOW!


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!


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?


Hysterical Pants Mob: Liar!


Angry Pants Mob: What’s he saying?




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.


ULP!Blubba: Thank you, Frederick Fliggins! I will always be grateful to you!

Mr. Demon & Professor Stubbler: What the..?

Blubba: *ULP!*


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 64 (part 2)

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 2: Bean Village > Vol. 1

Timestamp: Late Evening; Day 64
Weather: Persistent Hair Storms.
Landscape: As if the landscape has passed through puberty.


Mayor of Bean Village: Curses!  Why did we step outside?  My immense bean-y girth is coated in more facial trimmings!

Officer Beanchowski: This is seriously grossing me out.

Mayor of Bean Village: We’re never gonna get all this hair out of the Bean Sauce – the Beans and Franks will have nothing to frolic in!  The frolicking is in serious jeopardy!

Blobby: I know why hair in their Bean Sauce is really sick, but isn’t anyone else disturbed by the thought of hot dogs and bean-people swimming around in a warm and opaque brown liquid?

PF: Quiet, Blobby!  You will not ruin this for me! So, gentlemen, have you reached a decision about my deal?  I think it super fair…

Mayor of Bean Village: Well, Mutant, I don’t know – we’ve already spun the Wheel of Punishment.  There’s an outstanding decree of Splashy Smashy – the Wheel spake it so.

PF: But… could you not spin another wheel to decide the matter?  Surely I have proven the power of my moustache-tending!

Mayor of Bean Village: It IS luxurious…  hmm…  A Wheel of Municipal Decision-Making – is that what you’re suggesting?

PF: Um… Sure!

Mayor of Bean Village: Beanchowski, fetch the Wheel of Municipal Decision-Making!

Officer Beanchowski: Yes, sir!

PF: Wait, you actually have another wheel?

Mayor of Bean Village: Of course!  All matters of Bean Justice are settled by Official Wheel-Spinnings.

PF: Fascinating.

Officer Beanchowski: I have the Wheel, sir.  And I had to wake up Miss Bean Village.

Miss Bean Village: *Yawn* What time is it?

Mayor of Bean Village: Why I’ll tell you what time it is.  It’s time to..

3BT: Spin… that… wheeeeel…

Miss Bean Village: *Yawn*  Tee-hee…

Mayor of Bean Village: Wheel of Municipal Decision-Making, turn turn turn, tell us the answer to that which we’re concerned…

PF: Blobby, this place seems to be a crazy place.

Mayor of Bean Village: All riiiiight, my mutant friend – looks like you’re going to be heading to the Moustachio Territory on a diplomatic mission of peace.  The Wheel spake it so!

Miss Bean Village: I’m going back to bed.

Mayor of Bean Village: Very good, dear – SPLASHY SMASHY DISMISSED!

3BT: Hooray!

Mayor of Bean Village: In the morning, we will make preparations for your departure.  I do so prefer this course of action to full-blown warfare.  It’s like that famous Moustachio saying: “Beans, Beans: a peaceful fruit.  In wars defeat their poor recruits!”

PF: That barely makes sense.  Blobby, we must flee this ridiculous place!

Current Mood: Relief!
Discoveries Made: I am still not at all certain what Splashy Smashy is... So I did NOT Discover that. I mean, what could it be? I am having a hard time digesting Bean Logic, so I will try and not ponder this anymore or else fear my BRAIN BREAKING. But still, it sounds so FESTIVE. This is going to continue to bug at me. Splashy Smashy? I just do not know...

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 64 (part 1)

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 2: Bean Village > Vol. 1

Timestamp: Early Evening; Day 64
Weather: The Hair Snows
Landscape: Stubbly Cell


Blobby, wake yourself!  The Mayor is in the adjacent room – perhaps he is going to reinstate our Splashy Smashy…

Mayor of Bean Village: I will not stand for this disruptive hair!  It is an affront to the good people of Bean Village!  To war!

Officer Beanchowski: Sir, I don’t know if war is really the best…

Mayor of Bean Village: To war!  To war!  We’ll teach those Moustachios to discard their trimmings so flippantly!  To war!

Officer Beanchowski: Mayor, the Moustachios outnumber us Beans and they can fly!  We are no match!

PF: Bonzo, what does that mean?

Bonzo: The Moustachio Territory is our upwind neighbors to the Northeast.

Sid: They be flying facial hair, joe!

Bonzo: Yeah.

Sid: And they trimmings be all up in our sodas, G!

PF: Flying moustaches!  Sweet zonkers – perhaps these mythic beings can reunite me with the sky!  They are my only passport to liberation!  HEY!  HEY-LO!  MISTER MAYOR!  HEY!  I CAN ASSIST IN THE DEFEAT OF THE MOUSTACHIOS!

Bonzo: What are you doing?  You want us to get Double Splashy Smashy’d?

PF: Calm yourself, delinquent.  I am preparing to exonerate us!  HEY-LO!  YIP!  YIP!

Officer Beanchowski: Hey, what’s going on?  Pipe down in here!

PF: Sir, I have the solution to your hair-covered problem and the secret is growing from my face follicles!

Officer Beanchowski: I swear, if I have to Splash Smash you myself…

Mayor of Bean Village: Wait, Beanchowski – let the mutant speak…

PF: Thank you.  Sirs, I know a little something about what it means to be a flying moustache for I am an expert aeronaut and a fifteenth-level moustache regulator!  Behold my glorious ‘stache!

Mayor of Bean Village: It is an impressive moustache…

PF: Precisely!  Why I can draw upon my expertise as an airborne facial hair enthusiast to infiltrate the Moustachio Territory, procure the necessary intelligence secrets, and then we may wipe the country-side clean of your hairy nuisance!

Mayor of Bean Village: Hmmm…

PF: My only fee would be freedom for myself and my 3BT comrades from here and the wrath of your most vicious Splashy Smashy.

Mayor of Bean Village:
I don’t know…  The people haven’t had a good Splashy Smashy in ages…

PF: Perhaps you need to step outside and discuss it with your brutish flunky here.

Officer Beanchowski:

Mayor of Bean Village:
Yes.  Let’s discuss this outside, Beanchowski.

Officer Beanchowski: Fine.  But I’m watching you, Mutant.  I’m watching you.

PF: Keep watching, my good neighbor!  I will be confined to my cell in the meanwhile!

Bean Mayor!

Current Mood: Conniving!
Discoveries Made: A use for my fifteenth-level moustache regulator status.

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 63

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 2: Bean Village > Vol. 1

Timestamp: Morning; Day 63
Weather: Nawt Hawt.
Landscape: BEAN PRISON.


I am astonished and ashamed by how quickly I was able to descend into a life of crime.  My cell mates, the 3BT, seem increasingly less cool when I find myself charged with wack rhymez and now face imminent Splashy Smashy!

This is my second imprisonment in as many lands visited.  If I knew that every time I traveled to a foreign country I would be thrown in its least comfortable holes, I perhaps would have not left Professor Island in the first place.  I believe I am fed up with imprisonment.

A disgrace!  I will tell you, Blobby, a Discoverist must be out in the Field – lifting up rocks, peering around corners, giggling uncontrollably whilst chasing butterflies!  Discoverists should NOT be cooped up in various Pits of Despair…

I miss my Dirigible – flying among the birds whose tweet-tweeting offer me immediate updates into the emotions of the clouds, the feelings of freedom, the date/time/location of boundless soaring glory.  Tweet-tweet, my winged brothers, my swooping sisters.  Tweet-tweet.

I resolve to no longer be a be-jailed delinquent teenaged bean!  I am old!  I am good!  I am a Discoverist, darnit!

Current Mood: A Three-Bean Salad wherein the beans are "shame," "disgust," and "a longing to not be in prison!"
Discoveries Made: I take back having said, "3BT 4 Lyfe!" all those times. I have Discovered "take backs."

Hereinto referenced: ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 60

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 2: Bean Village > Vol. 1

Timestamp: Evening; Day 60
Weather: Fat! This is being chubby weather!
Landscape: My crib is being a barn, sons and daugthers!


Okay, it is an agreement then.

Now that I have figured out that you have been pouting and not typing my log entries we have an arrangement, Blobby:  I will take you with me to my next assignment from Bonzo, but you have to promise not to embarrass me in front of my new friends!

Blobby: Deal!

PF: Quiet, Blobby!  Ugh!  Check yourself.  Ok, I must practice my new voices.  *Ahem*  Yo yo yo yo yo!  Yo yooyooyoo!  YOYOyoyoYOyOyOYO!  Oh!  Hey, Bonzo!

Bonzo: Hey.

PF: What is up, Gree!


PF: Sid, my dog!

Sid: Yo, P. Flig!  What’s crack-a-lackin’?

PF: Uh… Yes yes!  You are my dog, Sid.  You are my best pet dog…

Bonzo: P. Flig, we got an excellent assignment for you.

PF: Well, that IS what is UP!  Sock it to me, Jackson!

Bonzo: All right.  We want you to… deliver a gift.  To the mayor.

PF: The mayor?  Oh ho, you boys ARE important.  And now I am important because YOU are talking to ME!  What gift shall I be delivering?  Governmental documents?  Fancy hats?

Bonzo: Eggs.

Sid: Through the air, sucka!

PF: A gift of airborne eggs!  Marvelous!  Do not be jealous, Blobby!  I am basically the president of hipness! Let us be delivering!

Current Mood: Words, my son! Words up!
Discoveries Made: I am slowly Discovering the Balance betwixt that which is being wack and that which is being dope.

Hereinto referenced: