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Blobby Log Owners Manual

Tagged: War?
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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: ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

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Blobby Log Day 152

As written by Professor Fliggins in Chapter 11: Foodlandia > Vol. 1

Timestamp: Morning Rush Hour; Day 152
Weather: Sploosh-Kaboom!
Landscape: Blarsh! Warrrsssshhhooooom! Yeah!

NOTES:

KA-BOOOOM!

Foodlandia Fish Stick Sentry: Look lively, boys!  These Devils are getting better at dodging the condiment cannons…

SPLOOSH! SPLORSH! SPLUSH!

PF: Oh, how thrilling!

Hobo Sandwich: Yeah yeah, war is very exciting, just don’t get us blown up.  Now, go down there, by the Brussels sprout shrubs.

PF: Delicious!

Roy: Gross…

Hobo Sandwich: Then make a left toward the Salad Dressing Fountains…

Hobo Napkin: You’re not taking him past the Salad Dressing Fountains, are you?

Hobo Sandwich: Yes, Doreen, we go past the Fountains and up the Linguini Trellis – saves us seven minutes…

Hobo Napkin: At this time of day?  It’ll be packed!

Hobo Sandwich: Yeah, but there’s also A WAR GOING ON so I THINK sensible, non-lunatic Foodlandians are, you know, cowering in fear…

Hobo Napkin: Oh I’ll show YOU how to COWER.

Hobo Sandwich: I’d like to see you try!

PF: FRIENDS!  Please direct me through your countryside, otherwise when we are all decimated by the condiment cannons THEN we all get to be right.

Hobo Sandwich:

Hobo Napkin: Turn left here…

Current Mood: Glad I am not married.
Discoveries Made: The subjective nature of fastest routes to the Linguini Trellis.

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!

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: ¤ ¤ ¤