Sunday, February 3, 2013

Calling to the shadows of monsters
Digging in the sand for clam shells

It is always embarrassing when one of the wall-dwelling artificial life-forms from the Riddled Flatland breeding program escapes from the lab and starts predating the local birdlife, and then Gareth Morgan has sads and there are tears before bedtime.

To avoid a recurrence of such episodes we now focus our efforts on breeding two-dimensional elephants, floor-based ones, which are not going to go stalking and creeping up on anything. Greenish Hugh (with the broom) is standing on the result to prove that it is not simply an elephant-shaped hole produced by spilling an entire bottle of Hole Paint from the Portable Hole Factory [B. Bunny & R. Runner, 1958].
Ignore Greenish when he maintains that this is all that remains of a real elephant after a tragic trebuchet-related accident; also that the victim was a personal friend of his. He is just a griefer. Also he is leading up to a stolen Keats-&-Chapman joke about "scraping up an acquaintance".


In other news from the Riddled Research Laboratory, Another Kiwi reckons that he can teach an Alzabo to spell by feeding it on a diet of shaved ham printed with the alphabet. If that works he will teach it algorithms with the help of alcohol steeped in algebra. Personally I suspect that this is part of a plan to win back his driver's license, by sitting the next exam in the company of a seeing-eye dog on which he has written out the entire Road Code.


Space-Time Eddie denied any unauthorised "jiggerypokery" or "shenanigans" with the Time Machine. All seven copies of him denied any knowledge of the provenance of the other six copies, apart from the youngest copy, who pooped. Examination of the cradle revealed a concealed copy of Heinlein's "By His Bootstraps".

The Eddie one-man Hurley team proved to be completely shite players, their performance not improved by one of the younger member's insistence on riding his hurley club like a broom when he should have been whacking at the ball, not to mention the wardrobe malfunctions. However, the second youngest copy is showing a precocious interest in the molecular-modelling kit, so we are keeping him on the staff.

9 comments:

ifthethunderdontgetya™³²®© said...

A.K. lost his license?

What happened, he was riding around (upside down, of course), with the top down, and his bowling bowl fell out and hurt someone?
~

Big Bad Bald Bastard said...

Ignore Greenish when he maintains that this is all that remains of a real elephant after a tragic trebuchet-related accident; also that the victim was a personal friend of his. He is just a griefer.

How does that explain the five hundred invites he sent out for a "windfall barbecue"?

Substance McGravitas said...

In other news from the Riddled Research Laboratory, Another Kiwi reckons that he can teach an Alzabo to spell by feeding it on a diet of shaved ham printed with the alphabet. If that works

Late AGAIN.

El Manquécito said...

If you soak your algebra in alcohol for too long it becomes hard to differentiate its components.

OBS said...

Examination of the cradle revealed a concealed copy of Heinlein's "By His Bootstraps".

Thanks, that makes perfect sense, as he had just pooped it out. It's the logical explanation of the origin of that book.

It's all so clear now!

Another Kiwi said...

1. Let the record show that I said Elephant sky-diving would not end well.
2.The Alpaca, or whatever, is a very stupid animal and has gone off following a Honey badger. I just don't care. Publishing my cunning plan on the internet is not a secure method. Also, like the crescent moon hat? When the Islamocommiefacists take over, who ya gonna call?
3. The Space-Time Eddies have nicked all the Chocolate Hob Nobs, I'm sure. Clonish people are like that. They're fine until you get 2 of him together.

Narad said...

I take it that you are familiar with The Man Who Folded Himself, given the jiggerypokery.

Smut Clyde said...

It is new to me. Had I been aware of it, it certainly would have featured in an earlier post.

Narad said...

OK, now imagine reading it in the back of a conversion van on a family road trip while an 8-track of the movie soundtrack to Grease is cycling.