Thursday, December 6, 2007

Splotchy is spreading a virus. Washing your hands won't help.

Splotchy's viral story is making the rounds. I'm tagged on the spoke of the wheel that is Splotchy, FranIam, Dr. Monkey von Monkerstein and Enriched Geranium.

The story thus far:

I woke up hungry. I pulled my bedroom curtain to the side and looked out on a hazy morning. I dragged myself into the kitchen, in search of something to eat. I reached for a jar of applesauce sitting next to the sink, and found it very cold to the touch. I opened the jar and realized it was frozen. (Splotchy)

"That's strange," I said out loud to no one in particular. My fingers slowly reached towards the jar again. My body experienced a wave of apprehension as weighted blanket covering me as I did so. The jar was completely frozen. I picked it up and stared at it, my fingers stung with little knives of chill. "What the..." again I spoke aloud. Then I realized what had happened with a shock. Suddenly the jar flew from my hand. It shattered creating a collage-like mixture of frozen applesauce and glass shards on my kitchen floor, the lid lazily rolling to a stop across the room.(FranIam)

She flicked the lid with her massive big toe. "So, I guess I'll be having another Camel for breakfast and you'll be having a breakfast date with the Electrolux." She lit her Camel cigarette as she turned to open the closet door where we kept the vacuum. "In case you're wondering how the applesauce got frozen, I seem to recall you insisting that I stick it in the freezer before we went to bed last night." She pushed the Electrolux at me and it squooshed through the rapidly unfreezing applesauce and the glass shards. "This kind of crap happens all the time when we go drinking with the Brazilians." (Dr. Monkey)

Suddenly, the front door erupted in an explosion of wood splinters. “Jesus in a bucket! They’ve found me!” I thought as I dove out the kitchen window. My experiments with frozen applesauce, Camel cigarettes and Electrolux vacuum cleaners were supposed to be a secret, but, apparently, they weren’t as secret as I had thought. What would happen if the formula fell into the wrong hands? All my work, for naught! Who had leaked the information? Was it her? Or possibly one of the Brazilians? “Now the damned Department of Homeland Security will ruin everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve!” was the last thing that went through my mind before I was surrounded. (Enriched Geranium)

Totally surrounded, I might add, by secret service agents. A childish gray-haired man stepped between them. He walked as if he were hiding an eight ball in his trousers. Stepping nearer I saw an actual eight ball, (pool table, not drugs) fall out his pant leg. Bruised, a little bloody and a lot confused, I still thought "some guys just can't deal with their shortcomings".

"Where's Pickles?" short and arrogant demanded of me.

"Pickles?" First Brazilians, now pickles, Camel cigarettes and an electrolux? Sweet jesus on a popsicle stick help me make sense of this.

"I know yer shaggin' Laura. She said you're into the brazillians . I'd have ta be preznit for another eight years before I had brazillians and brazillians of dollars". He looked sad. "I bet she tried her erotic applesauce trick on you." Eeugh. She did try the erotic applesauce trick on me. But I didn't know I was whispering sweet nothings into the ear of the First Lady. In the snowdrift outside the kitchen window he saw the Camel butts. "Camels! Ha! I knew she switched from Pall Malls for a reason. It's you. Buddy, I have half a mind to punish you in ways you will never forget. (Jess Wundrun)

I know that Tengrain is anti-meme. Maybe you'll relent once? Also, Commander Other who is also anti-meme but gave in but once. How 'bout it Pygalgia? And Delia from Impeachment and Other Dreams, would you be so kind?


pygalgia said...

I don't know if I can add anything to that. I'm not really a "pulp fiction" type. And I'd need to be way too drunk to envision writing about an affair involving Pickles.
In response to your comment, my email is (I fear no spam; I'm fast with "delete") and I'm up in Flagstaff, about 200 miles north of Phoenix.

Jess Wundrun said...


Splotchy said...

What a sad little man.

Thanks for being infected!

Fran said...

You are good- so damn good.

It was Pickles the whole time.

8-ball? I thought it would be a nerf ball.

Synthaetica said...

i'll try something tomorrow.

thanks for sharing your infection.

i'm not really anti-meme per se. there were just some going around a while back that weren't really germane to my particular bent of idiocy.

Ed said...

Very nice! I particularly liked arriving at Pickles via Brazilians (brazillions?).

dguzman said...

Hey, it's preferable to getting crabs or something. I'll do my best!

Synthaetica said...

oh yeah. i did it, by the way!

Freida Bee said...

This is hilarious! Pickles? Maybe since Pygalgia isn't interested (rats,) you could tag DCap, who might like to weave a yarn of her.

Jess a suggestion. Yours made me think of him.