Yes this is a predicament
it was a horrible day at the once-fair bibliotheca... the citzens icon of beauty, passion, wit, intellect, charm, and grace was kidnapped by a horrible pink-shirt-hating Ogre! and carried her off into the horrid hills of spinach flambe! Oh the people wept and cried, they mourned the departure of such a crucial icon in their society. But they had some shred of resolve left. They Formed a commitee, to elect from their population, a trio of their bravest! A trio with death facing resolve! A trio that would go to extreme ends of the earth for their maiden of high social stature. A trio whose infatuation and obsession bordered on Insanity! Now with such credentials it is not to be found unusual, that the unlikely were chosen. This trio comprised of a a village Jester, a Fat Friar Named Fred, and a suave Nobelman. (yes its misspelled on purpose) however! the decesion was made with due foresight, and every problem was considered! the Village JesterKalen: was chosen due to his insatiable appetite, he would forsee the troupe through the horrid hills of spinach Flambe! The Fat Friar Named Fredeveryone's favorite Aussie/martini: He was chosen due to his nature and desire for adventure! He would be the one to spur on the troupe when hope was lost. and the Suave NobelManWalt: He was chosen for the liturary comfort of the Fair Princess, and the ardous journy back...
So our troupe sets out... The Troupe of Travesty...
First to encounter was the grumpy bear of Tepid Pond! He objected to this modes operandi. These were no longer the days of such chivalry. That we should befriend the Ogre, invite him on a fishing trip, or to lunch (the village Jester liked that idea), the suave NobelMan (being of passive nature) coecered with such a notion, and that peace in all form should be upheld.
and so on such an early a beginning, This Troupe of Travesty was almost brought under new management to be called a Troupe of Tranquility. had it not been for the foresight of the city's elders The Fat Friar named Fred showed to be true, He reamed out the grumpy bear of tepid pond, relegious zeal came through, rantings and ravings of how the sword will be brought to all evil doers, How fish are unclean, and gluttony is to be cursed, (how this fat friar ever reached his girth is a mystery to the public. but this is for literary purposes, all friars are supposed to be fat.)
to to remain a trio with some sort composure, the Village Jester, and the Suave Nobelman hurridly moved on. Not much was to be found a hinderance thereafter. Between the Fat Friar named Fred resolve, and The Village Jester humor and good spirits, they pressed on. Till, they came to those horrid hills of Spinach Flambe. For you see, No matter the extent of the Fat Friar named Fred's zeal, and relegious fortitude. All friars have some diatary qualms (yes, this is for litary purposes again. And freedom of the press). This one happened to be devot abstinence of spinach. He could not violate his conscience and transgress through these lands... and so began the great debate of food. It continued for 3 days. With the Village Jester advocating that all meat and edible propeities were given by the deity for mankind to eat. While the Fat Friar name Fred stoutly declared that this was an anologous "meat offered to idols" and that he could not eat it, and the Suave NobelMan quoted the works of the great authors, among them the "ode to the skinny glutton"
yadadadadada... the narrators creativity runs short, and he hastens to get to the ending, and "intersting part"
so something happend, and got lost in the translation, they made it over the horrid hills of Spinach Flambe, (Narrator: I think The Village Jester ate a path through the hills) and came to the Ogre's lair. The Fat Friar named Fred, and the VIllage Jester were in accord for violence against the Horrible Ogre. But the Suave NobelMan would not have it so. He reasoned that violence would be an act of atrocity against the Fair Princess and violate her "delicate composure" So he came up with an amazing and creative alternative solution. He challenge the Ogre to a battle of the wits, winner takes all, and gets the girl. Of course the princess was charmed, amazed, and the Ogre, being a dunce, lost, naturally.
So of course in high spirits, they began the journey home. What could go wrong now? when everything was going right. and alas, everything soon went wrong...
For alas, at the pass, the Troupe of Travesty met with the authors of disaster...
Attilla the Hun had come from the North East, hearing tale of a fabled beauty, passion, wit, intellect, charm, and grace being kidnapped by a horrible pink-shirt-hating Ogre! Alas! she would not be out done by this, this, mere miscreant, this cheap author of misdomeanors. this cheap backyard bully. So she came to the pass to cut them off. she and her horrible, horrid, horde of vocabulary, (led by the goat of course). She would show them that the troupe of Travesty was about to be a troupe of Tranquility in comparison to her! She had come for all over the lands, wreaking havoc of the lives of janitors, stealing cookies! banishing obscure threads into the horrible waste of cyberspace. Who were they to defy her powerful hand of razor wit?
and naturally, it is the liturary proccess to go from complete and utter pandamonioum, from total devistation, from grand catastrophe, to full-blown apocolypse...
The Noble Arabian Sheik from the southwest had come up from to meet this fabled Attila the Han, and all her presupposed glory, He brought his armies, his camels, donkey's, men, women, slaves, and harems!... we dare not voice and ask what else could go wrong, for fear of it overhearing, and joining this trio of travesty (attila the Han, the troupe of Tranquility, and The Nobel Arabian Sheik
And so we must leave them for the night. the narrator's voice runs dry, and his brains fuzzes from the days work...
To be continued ;)
in the rare case of ignorance, this is detailed account of what happened Here
[cloned from a RIfugee weblog]
So our troupe sets out... The Troupe of Travesty...
First to encounter was the grumpy bear of Tepid Pond! He objected to this modes operandi. These were no longer the days of such chivalry. That we should befriend the Ogre, invite him on a fishing trip, or to lunch (the village Jester liked that idea), the suave NobelMan (being of passive nature) coecered with such a notion, and that peace in all form should be upheld.
and so on such an early a beginning, This Troupe of Travesty was almost brought under new management to be called a Troupe of Tranquility. had it not been for the foresight of the city's elders The Fat Friar named Fred showed to be true, He reamed out the grumpy bear of tepid pond, relegious zeal came through, rantings and ravings of how the sword will be brought to all evil doers, How fish are unclean, and gluttony is to be cursed, (how this fat friar ever reached his girth is a mystery to the public. but this is for literary purposes, all friars are supposed to be fat.)
to to remain a trio with some sort composure, the Village Jester, and the Suave Nobelman hurridly moved on. Not much was to be found a hinderance thereafter. Between the Fat Friar named Fred resolve, and The Village Jester humor and good spirits, they pressed on. Till, they came to those horrid hills of Spinach Flambe. For you see, No matter the extent of the Fat Friar named Fred's zeal, and relegious fortitude. All friars have some diatary qualms (yes, this is for litary purposes again. And freedom of the press). This one happened to be devot abstinence of spinach. He could not violate his conscience and transgress through these lands... and so began the great debate of food. It continued for 3 days. With the Village Jester advocating that all meat and edible propeities were given by the deity for mankind to eat. While the Fat Friar name Fred stoutly declared that this was an anologous "meat offered to idols" and that he could not eat it, and the Suave NobelMan quoted the works of the great authors, among them the "ode to the skinny glutton"
yadadadadada... the narrators creativity runs short, and he hastens to get to the ending, and "intersting part"
so something happend, and got lost in the translation, they made it over the horrid hills of Spinach Flambe, (Narrator: I think The Village Jester ate a path through the hills) and came to the Ogre's lair. The Fat Friar named Fred, and the VIllage Jester were in accord for violence against the Horrible Ogre. But the Suave NobelMan would not have it so. He reasoned that violence would be an act of atrocity against the Fair Princess and violate her "delicate composure" So he came up with an amazing and creative alternative solution. He challenge the Ogre to a battle of the wits, winner takes all, and gets the girl. Of course the princess was charmed, amazed, and the Ogre, being a dunce, lost, naturally.
So of course in high spirits, they began the journey home. What could go wrong now? when everything was going right. and alas, everything soon went wrong...
For alas, at the pass, the Troupe of Travesty met with the authors of disaster...
Attilla the Hun had come from the North East, hearing tale of a fabled beauty, passion, wit, intellect, charm, and grace being kidnapped by a horrible pink-shirt-hating Ogre! Alas! she would not be out done by this, this, mere miscreant, this cheap author of misdomeanors. this cheap backyard bully. So she came to the pass to cut them off. she and her horrible, horrid, horde of vocabulary, (led by the goat of course). She would show them that the troupe of Travesty was about to be a troupe of Tranquility in comparison to her! She had come for all over the lands, wreaking havoc of the lives of janitors, stealing cookies! banishing obscure threads into the horrible waste of cyberspace. Who were they to defy her powerful hand of razor wit?
and naturally, it is the liturary proccess to go from complete and utter pandamonioum, from total devistation, from grand catastrophe, to full-blown apocolypse...
The Noble Arabian Sheik from the southwest had come up from to meet this fabled Attila the Han, and all her presupposed glory, He brought his armies, his camels, donkey's, men, women, slaves, and harems!... we dare not voice and ask what else could go wrong, for fear of it overhearing, and joining this trio of travesty (attila the Han, the troupe of Tranquility, and The Nobel Arabian Sheik
And so we must leave them for the night. the narrator's voice runs dry, and his brains fuzzes from the days work...
To be continued ;)
in the rare case of ignorance, this is detailed account of what happened Here
[cloned from a RIfugee weblog]