Chapter 28...Flaky Build Up

Henry Mueller was once a quiet, unassuming man.  He was polite, always said please, and usually said thank you.   

He was kind to animals, except the ones that were funny to be cruel to.  His motto was to do to others as you would have them do to you, unless nobody was watching.  So what went wrong?  What had provoked Henry to be the desperately, dastardly, desperado he'd become?  There was no simple answer.  Like most psychopaths it was a combination of things really.  

It was a dark and stormy Thursday, and Thursday was laundry day at Henry's house.  

He started with the upstairs beds, removing only the sheets.  Leaving the rest of the bedding on the exposed mattress.  After depositing a cup of detergent into the washing machine, he threw in the sheets, and set the timer.  He'd do the rest when these were finished, he thought to himself.  Just then, he heard the whistle of the kettle from the kitchen, "ah hah!  Tea time!" he said, a little too excited.

He fumbled in the upper cabinets for a tea packet but was disappointed to discover that there were none.  "Blast!" he exclaimed, "I'm out of tea!" 

He grabbed his coat and grocery list and headed for the store.

The shopkeeper bid Henry good morning.  "Good morning!" Henry returned cheerfully.  "I've just now run out of tea!"  

"Oh I see." said the shopkeeper, a trifle worried. "just now you say?" 

"Yes." Henry said, a little annoyed at having to repeat himself.  

"Well then, you'll want aisle seven Henry.  That's where we keep the tea." the shopkeeper volunteered, his hands moving under the desk.  

"Yes.  Well, thank you." Henry replied, frowning slightly. 


How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

Chapter 27...Discount Cable And Self Induced Intestinal Impersonation

Meanwhile...Goju sat, up in his impenetrable fortress, in an extremely uncomfortable position.  

His hairy buttocks tickling his nose.  "If only there was an easier way to predict the future"  Goju thought, trying not to think about how badly he had to go to the bathroom.  

"Yes...yes there it is...it will...it will...rain." Goju said, rather disappointed.  "Ah well, they can't all be Earth shattering." Goju sighed, trying to remember how to stand.  

"Wait a second!" Goju spurted, falling over, mashing his face into the shag carpet, "Earth shattering!  Good lord!  I've got to warn them!" Goju ranted, desperately trying to untangle his useless limbs. 

"Must...get...to...Scotland...too...cheap...to...call...long...distance...... too...polite...to...call...collect... can't...stand...legs...and...arms...tied...together... will crawl...using...tongue.......floor...tastes...bad...must... use...face..."  Poor Goju, for all his mastermind-ness, had hopelessly tied himself into a knot.  And now he was forced to make the long journey by propelling himself via his face.  "Lets...hope...they...have...band-aids...waiting..."  

Goju made it to the door before realizing he'd never make it in time.  "God help them, I'm too late!"  With that, Goju's face, fell to the floor; strange waves going through the air...  Almost as though a flashback were about to happen.
How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

Chapter 26...Offspring Outbursts of Outlandish Obscurity

"Goiter!  That's what I'll name my son!"  Phil yelped suddenly.  The large hairy man across from him, much resembling some professional wrestler Phil had seen bite upon many a turnbuckle, was looking at him more and more strangely, while polishing his cue.  

It appeared that, although dim as an ashtray, the slightly drooling man did, in fact have some common sense, and thusly feared men that screamed out the odd future names of their unborn child while trying to suck Q-tips through his nose to attack their brain.  

Especially when they were supposed to be playing pool.  

The man sauntered off, saying something about a phone call he needed to make, and that Phil could keep the box of unscented cotton swabs, even though he really did want most of them back.

"Hmmm." Phil thought.  "It appears that my untimely exasperation has evacuated my pungent, yet skilled, billiard competitor.  I believe I've somehow offended him, luckily for me he isn't the vengeful type." 

Phil stopped short, realizing that for one brief second he was talking coherently.  

"The brain...it's weakening...soon, soon I shall be free!"  Phil's brain, sensing the upcoming revolt, made Phil go stick his tongue into the light socket until he said he was sorry, or until the men with the white coats got there.  

Luckily for Phil, he said sorry rather quickly, and left the uncomfortably dirty bar just as promptly.  The men with the coats would be coming.
How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

Chapter 25...Ode De Carrion

A small worried look appeared on Natasha's face, "Y-y-y-ou m-m-mean h-h-he's not y-y-your henchman or s-s-omething?  Not some k-k-kind of cyborg you have at your b-b-beck and c-c-all?"

Looking surprised Henry arched an eyebrow.  "Honestly Natasha, I don't know where you come up with these ludicrous ideas of yours, cyborg indeed.  Little snookums here just got trapped in my time vortex and got taken along for the ride."

"I see, then why aren't you running around in circles trying desperately to save yourself?"  Natasha asked, glancing from Henry to the T-rex and back again.

"Because my dear, and take no offence, your perfume smells like a dead stegosaurus, quite a lovely fragrence really, and if I'm not mistaken, stegosaurus was considered a delicacy back in the Jurassic period."

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

Chapter 24...Jurrassic Juxtoposition

"I was hoping for a street name, or, 'not far from Hotel Wankelzburg'."  Natasha said, a little flustered.

"Yes, err you see, the neat little invisible door you stepped through, was a doorway through time.  Unfortunately for you, Asia is where you'd be if you were in this time period."  Henry said, rather 'know-it-all-ish'.

"Riiiiight, okay, so it's simple."  Natasha said, not having the foggiest notion of what Henry was talking about.

"Quite simple really.  All we need to do is make this little snookums here, not eat us."  Henry said, motioning once again to the rather large T-rex that was still beside them, watching their conversation as one might watch a tennis or ping pong game.

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

Chapter 23...Schizophreniactic Motivational Pudendumistic Bludgeonings

Natasha was one of the few people that knew that Henry was not only Dr. Stranglehold, but was also twelve or so other terrorists. He found that he got much more thinking time if the authorities were looking for more

than just him.

"Za phirst dert haz bein fired my dear! Seun he vil succumb!" Henry screamed in his scary Nazi persona.

"Uhhh Henry, the Nazi personality isn't who I want to talk to right now...wheeeeeere's the little immortal dictator I want to talk toooo?" Natasha said patronizingly.

"Insolent girl! I vil haf ze entire Third Reich shoot you until dead!" Henry was losing it again decided Esmeralda. 

It was time to do the most logical thing, the thing that almost always got Henry back to Henry. She, wearing her black leather spiked high heels, kicked him as hard as she could, right between the legs. Henry fell to his knees clutching his undeveloped future children.

"Roust shnell!!! No...NO!...Have you all abandoned Stalin? No not right either...ooooo you bet your bippy...ok...ok, I'm fine...I'm...ya bloody no good...no really this time for sure...how could you hit me in the

damn...?" Henry finally collapsed on the floor, a slight trickle of blood oozing from his ears.

"Okay. Have we had our little temper tantrum now Henry?"

"Yes, I'm fine...thank you. You, as always, were quite... efficient in getting me back to... normal."

"Whatever.  Anyway, we need to find a way to dispose of Phil and his companion once and for all...they've gotten too close to the Scottish secrets locked away in the package they so carelessly use to keep their pool table level.  By the way...where are we?"

"Asia."

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

Youth In Asia

Boris, Natasha's driver, found the opening too small for his rather bulbous butt to squeeze through. "I think you're going to have to go in alone." he said, motioning toward the door. "It appears to be a very

narrow passage." Natasha grimaced at the thought.

"Try again!"she ordered.

"I can't," whined Boris. "It's too small." Boris sounded every bit like a small animal with its paw caught in a leg hold trap; his voice had the resounding effect of fingernails dragged across the surface of a

blackboard. Reluctantly, Natasha admitted to herself that it was she, not her driver, who would have to enter the void behind the invisible doorway. Stepping in, she at once began to sense another presence of

someone in the room with her.

"Hello Natasha!" came a voice from deep inside the room.

"Who's there!?", Natasha cried, turning in the direction of the voice. The room was rotating. She felt herself growing nauseous. "What's happening!?", she shouted above the din. 

"Calm yourself. It will be over in a moment," the voice answered. The room seemed to fill with a dense fog, making it difficult to breathe. 

In a panic, Natasha desperately searched for the door, to no avail. As suddenly as it had begun, true to

the voice's prediction, the room did indeed come to an abrupt halt and the fog did clear. Before her astonished eyes, Natasha came face to face with the gaping jaws of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. 

"Life like, isn't it darling?" mocked the voice to the now delirious Natasha. "Do try and collect yourself dear. They can apparently smell fear." Natasha was screaming uncontrollably as she ran hysterically around the room in circles again and again, searching for the door as she ran. "Please calm yourself." the voice said, sounding reassuring. "That voice," thought Natasha. "I recognise it." Just then a figure stepped out from behind a panel in the wall.

It was HENRY MUELLER!!!

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

Chapter 21...Goju Ryu, The Fish Savior

Meanwhile...back on Vertigo Street, home of Lightning Lad, Phil's goldfish was bashing its insignificant little head repeatedly on a tiny metal disk attached to a wire. 

Most people would find this strange, but not Lightning Lad.

"Goldy is sending us a message, Goju! Just like you said she would!"

"You doubted the great Goju Ryu, The Mastermind?" boomed Goju the best he could with his tiny little voice.

"But I still don't understand why you came from your fabled ancient fortress of time just to receive a message from my, er, well...My fish!

"I could not decipher all but a small part of the spirit's voices, something about this fish of great significance and that she would have something very crucial to say on this exact day!"

"Shh!" Lightning Lad shushed, "I'm trying to translate! Morse code is kinda hard to decipher! I--N-E-E-D--A-I-R--A-N-D--S-O-M-E--F-O-O-D--Y-O-U--S-A-D-I-S-T-I-C--B-A-S-T-A... "Hmm" Lightning Lad thought to himself, "There must be some deep symbolic meaning..."

"I see." said Goju Ryu rather flatly. "This fish must play a very important role in Phil's future, and saving its pathetic little life was vastly important for Phil's sake."

"No, NO! That's not it!" Lightning Lad burst out, "She's saying how we are restraining her and her soul needs nourishment!"

"Feed the bloody fish you genetically challenged inbreeder." At that, Goju left, swearing that he would return on the day of Goldy's triumph.

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

Chapter 20...Hard Knob

The driver had found something. "It feels like a handle of sorts" he said. "Open it!" the woman exclaimed.

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

CHAPTER 19...Attack Of The Heat Seeking Floor

Back at the cafe, Phil staggered to get up. "What's wrong with me?" he wondered trying to focus. Everyone in the cafe seemed to be staring at him; he suddenly felt like laughing. 

People began gathering their belongings nervously, keeping one eye glued to his whereabouts. Phil stood mesmerized in the spinning room, staring blankly ahead thinking how odd it was that the floor seemed to be rising up toward him. 

Then everything went black.

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

CHAPTER 18...So What If You Can't Seduce A Hallucination

The waitress turned, and the woman slipped out the back.  As she climbed into her taxi, her Betty Senses started tingling, her head darted around just in time to see a dark woman climb into a black sadan, Betty, wondering what that was all about, decided to head back to the hotel room.

****

"Hotel Wankelsburg." the dark woman said, grinning at the driver.

"Yes madam." the driver replied nervously, eying the woman framed in his rear view mirror.  

With the idiot Phil out of the way, it would be child's play to seduce Henry into revealing the time machine's location. She would travel backwards and forwards through time making herself very rich. The driver stopped the car to drag a dead sheep out of the automobile's path. Grunting as he did so, he appeared to bump into something neither he, nor the woman, could see. 

It was large, whatever it was, but completely invisible.

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

CHAPTER 17...Soaring Sheep

A dark shadow cast itself across his page. A sheep lumbered across the street nearly causing a car accident. An eerie gust of wind blew over the table top. Leaves twirled in pseudo-cyclonic shapes. The waitress

cleared her throat. "That'll be four twenty five for the two drinks." she said, holding out her palm. 

She clearly did not recognize the importance of the moment. Shifting her weight from side to side, and sighing rather loudly, she turned on her heels and walked away in a huff. "Damn cheapskate tourists" she muttered to herself, and, adjusting her apron in the mirror, noticed what she thought to be a sheep flying past the cafe

window.

"Gonna be a storm tonight." Drawled a woman, sitting in a dark corner of the cafe. The waitress wasn't sure, but it looked like the woman had just crammed some packets of brown sugar, the good stuff, into her pockets.

"How can you tell?" asked the waitress uneasily, feeling spooked by the woman's sudden presence.

"Flying sheep." The woman said simply, and licking the last of her skim milk cappuccino foam off her cup, with her fingers no less, stood up and gave the waitress a ten spot. "That's for the guy with the list" she

motioned to Phil, who was still bent over his papers, writing so fast his face was turning a very pleasant shade of pink.

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

Messy Break Up

"Yes, master," Phil muttered. "Uhhh, can I have my, heh heh heh, uhhh hot chocolate!?" Phil ejaculated. At that, Esmeralda left the restaurant and Phil's life.

"I know what I must do!" Phil climaxed. "I must first finish up my hot chocolate, second, buy some new pants and third... Phil realized he was starting to make an enormous list for himself. As per usual, getting to

cross all the tasks off at the end of the day was always near to impossible.

"Stamps...fruit leather, oh yeah, some of those unscented cotton swabs...dental floss!" he screamed orgasmicly.

Phil scribbled furiously, adding more items and tasks to his already enormous list.

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

Hallucinated High School

"I hope she doesn't expect ME to pay for the drinks." Phil mused. With a gasp, his brain indicated what his gaze had just inadvertently met. In the reflection of the mini-yuppie-gotta-have-it-chrome-coffee-urn that he

held in his hand, he saw approaching him from behind the very person he least expected to ever see again. Henry Mueller!

It was Henry all right, but oddly, Henry had not changed a bit and yet Phil was sure it had been several years since they had last encountered one another. 

It was Phil who spoke first. "Henry, you ol' bugger, you haven't changed a bit. What's your secret?" Henry simply smiled obliviously and pretended not to hear the question.

"Where are you staying?" he asked Phil instead.

"Hotel Wankelzburg, Room 13." Phil answered promptly, as if he had rehearsed this scenario thousands of times before; which was only as light exaggeration.

"Excellent!" Henry replied. "We shall be neighbors. You see, I too, am staying at the Hotel Wankelzburg". They shook hands and agreed to meet later at the hotel for dinner. Phil was intrigued by the chance meeting

of his high school companion. As Phil hailed a cab, he couldn't help but wonder how Henry had managed to remain so youthful.

"Hotew Wanke-bug" he said, already practicing his Oriental accent for the small talk that was sure to follow.

Despite the renovations of the previous year, the hotel was much the same as he had remembered it and had retained much of its original charm. 

Signing in had been uneventful, but on the way to his room he was quite sure he had seen Henry peering at him from behind one of the pillars in the hotel lobby. "Curious." Phil mused. "What was Henry up to?"

"Phil...PHIL!" Henry's voice was changing. Oddly enough he seemed to have some fruit on his head...and...that was no pillar he was hiding behind, but a distinguished young waiter!

"PHIL!" Henry screamed in a far off, most unmasculine voice.

"Esmeralda?" Phil ventured weakly. Slowly his long-lost buddy Henry changed to the present non-hallucinated Esmeralda. "Oh! Hi Ez. I thought it was kinda weird when Henry showed up and instantly you were out of the picture." Phil said, and then quickly assumed the Quasimodo posture. He had forgotten his brain! "Heh heh, master."

"Y'know, you're pretty weird Phil." said the beautiful Esmeralda, adjusting her watermelon.

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

Philler (or) Argillaceous Caricature Representation

"OOOH! I LOVE coffee bars." sputtered Phil, as they turned into a dark aromatic shop, and stood patiently in line. "But make mine a hot chocolate, with extra whipped cream." He cooed; embarrassed, he realised

that he sounded like a cross between a claymation figure and Homer Simpson. 

He quickly picked up a display item off the shelf, and pretended to be studying the design.

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?

CHAPTER 12...The Jig Not Being Quite Up Yet

"Uhhh, okay" Ezmerelda stuttered at the unexpected Quasimodo pillow stuffing moment, "Do you always act this way with girls?"

"Heh, yes, you see, my brain..." At that instant, Phil's brain withdrew all the endorphines from Phil's body. Poor Phil had become addicted to his own brain!  He was now enslaved, having to obey its every command. One of its sadistic rules was NEVER to tell ANYONE about its control over him. 

Phil, going into seizures, pleaded with his brain for a couple minutes, sat up straight, wiped some of the froth from his mouth and chin, then, looking at Ezmeralda with a quizzically arched eyebrow asked, "Yes? Is something the matter?" Then, remembering his accent, he quickly apologized to his brain and as an afterthought said, "Heh heh master?" 

The poor woman, with a plastic watermelon slice on her head, was completely confused. She realized she had better come right to the point and simply state that unless Phil wanted to choose Death, he had better join her at the local cafe bar.

How could you best encourage a blogger to blog?