“Humphrey, could you please pass me the bottle of Merloooooooot?”
“Uh, sure. Why are you saying it like that, Bruce?”
“Because it sounds fancier that way! Don’t you know anything about wine?”
“I guess you’re right. It does sound a lot fancier like that. Merlooooooooooooot, Me, Me, Me, Merlooooooooooooot.”
“Do we have to capitalize it each time we say Merlooooooooooot?”
“Not sure, should we look up your question using the internet?”
“Internet. It’s like this big connection of filthy websites. Some of them have actual helpful information on them.”
“That does sound delightful. Yes, let’s look that question up using the…uh…”
“Internet. I’ll type it into a search engine.”
The normal looking man with the odd looking face and long finger nails eating a carrot while drinking Merloooooooot turns on his computer in order to access the internet while his other friend with blonde hair and a buttery complexion sits in the gold colored chair drinking his Merlooooooot.
“Have you found it yet?”
“Not yet. How do you spell Merlooooooot?”
“What do you mean how do you spell Merlooooooot? You just did!”
“I didn’t spell Merloooooooot I just said Merlooooooot.”
“Yes you did, look, look there in the text. I can clearly see that you spelled Merlooooooot, each time with a different number of O’s.”
“Well which time did I spell it correctly?”
“Hmmm, let me see. Maybe the internet can tell us! Click on that thing there.”
“That little red box in the corner? That’s an ad; it could cause pop-ups and crash my computer!”
“That’s absurd. Just click it.”
Humphrey clicks the ad and the computer becomes bamboozled with pop-ups.
“I don’t think the narrator used the word bamboozled correctly.”
I know that, shut up. I just wanted to say it because it sounds funny.
“Well that’s not a good enough reason to make a mistake like that while in the middle of a story.”
It’s not the middle I still have plenty of time to make up for it.
“Whatever you say. What happens next?”
What happens next? I’ll tell you what happens next! The two guys, uhhh, made a big mistake by clicking the ad and Humphrey gets sucked into the computer and Bruce gets turned into a huge mashed potatoes monster! Ha! How do you like that? Huh?!
“What? I’m…I’m made of mashed potatoes. Why I don’t like this at all! This is the least bit fun. Turn me back!”
Jim you sure you want to quit? Alright, best of luck out there. It’s not easy finding another narrating job these days. Sure, sure, I’ll finish the story for you.
“Who are you talking to? Who’s Jim?”
Jim just qui….whooaaaaa, what the heck are you? Are you…is that…mashed potatoes?
“Yes, yes, the narrator that just left turned me into this. Now could you please turn me back?!”
Sorry, it doesn’t work like that. I can’t just undo what the last narrator did. I do know someone that can help. Hold on, let me find his lines. He’ll help. This one narrator, ha ha, this one narrator here named Dan gave this guy a licorice tail and wooden hands. He knows what it’s like out there in story land. He’ll be able to help you for sure. Hmmm, where did I put those lines? Oh yea, the safe. I forgot how dangerous this guy can be.
“Dangerous? Who are you about to put into the story with me? I don’t like the sound of this at all.”
Oh no it’s fine. He’s a good guy, sometimes, I think, other times he’s fighting people. I think he wants money for a new van, or wants to find Williamette, or something about a toaster. Anyway, it’s all Nina’s fault. So like, blame her. Ah, here he is. Say hello to Hank!
“Ummm….are you…are you Hank?”
“Can you help me?”
“That mashed potatoes?”
“Sick, man. I’m kind of hungry. Got anything to eat in this story besides potatoes?”
“No. I have wine.”
“Don’t know what that means. It taste like grapes?”
“Sick, man. Nothing else around here, huh?”
“The narrator might be able to help us out with that. Hey! Hey, Mr. Narrator!”
“That’s not his name. He’s all sitting there with his coffee besides; no way is he going to respond to us anyway.”
“Coffee? But it’s 9PM! Who drinks coffee this late?”
“It’s Saturday, man. Maybe he’s going out after this or something.”
“Well….what if…what if we make this story last super long so he can’t go out! Then he’ll have to give us something to eat.”
“He’s the narrator, the story is going to last a long as he wants, or at the very least until he’s done with his coffee.”
“This isn’t fair at all,” says the whiny mashed potatoes monster. “I am not whiny!” says the whiny mashed potatoes monster. “Ugh.”
“It’s no use, man.”
“Stop calling me that! My name is Bruce!”
“I was just calling you that to make you feel better, freakish mashed potatoes monster…”
“Wow thanks, freakish wooden man!”
“That…that really hurts you know. I’ve been through a lot in the past nineteen stories…and…I finally come back and…I shouldn’t have to…,” says the heroic knight.
“You can’t just interrupt him like that! And why is he a heroic knight? He’s actually crying! That’s whiny!”
“I’m not crying! I just had a splinter in my eye! And when I went to wipe it I got another one!”
“Likely story, wimp!”
Hanks rage could no longer be held by his delicate smile. He blasted from his mouth a powerful red beam that burst through the stomach-ish area of the mashed potatoes monster. But the monster was made of mashed potatoes, so it soon and very quickly recovered from its wound.
“This story is in present tense you idiot!” whined the mashed potatoes monster.
“Come on! Fight me!”
“Fight you? I’m much to civilized for that. Let’s just talk this out.”
“Talking?! Talking?! Hmmm…hadn’t thought about that. Ow, ow…”
“Thinking hurt me head! Me mad now!”
“You were mad before! Stop walking towards me, cut it out! I mean it! That’s it!”
The whiny mashed potatoes monster uses one of its freakish mashed potatoes hands to strike into the heroic knight known as Hank and plaster him up against the wall about six feet up from the ground. Hank takes in a big breath before expelling another red beam from his mouth this time breaking the freakish arm of the monster that was holding him up against the wall like I just said he was.
“It’s on now!”
“No it’s not! No it’s not! Turn it off! Turn it off!”
“What…what was that?”
“That’s my uhhh, I don’t know, war cry or something like that. Don’t like it?”
“No, no it’s not that. I think it’s good. A bit confusing at first, didn’t really know what it was. Now that I do though, most effective. Good job. I’m going to make a run for it now.”
“Alright. But it won’t work.”
“I might as well try.”
“Go ahead, but I mean, the next page says that I stop you and just before I’m about to blow you up you offer me some more of that grape stuff and I refuse again, we get into a conversation about my favorite flavor, cherry, but I tell you that just because I like cherry doesn’t mean I like the taste of cough medicine, because what cherry tastes like that? Really? You give me the cherry that tastes like cough medicine and I will enjoy that crud for the rest of my life, which is probably for like another ten stories at least, maybe a couple while Dan is in his thirties if he feels bored. But I mean, unless this story grabs new readers I don’t know what he’ll do. Only reason he’s writing this one is because he’s been writing his novel all day and missed me or something. He probably said something like ‘I just want to write a story without ruuuuules’ and so he was like ‘I’ll write another Hank story!’ because I had nothing better to do. Do you know what I was doing before I was put into this story? Do you?”
“Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything. And it was great, best time of my life. And then you had to make that last narrator run off, that was a good one.”
“I’m…I’m going to run away now…”
The whiny mashed potatoes monster makes a sluggish runnish attempt to get away but is soon stopped by Hank who looks down at him and threatens to blow him up with another red beam blast.
“You win! You win!”
“Win? What do I win?”
“This bottle…this bottle of wine!”
“You see, this is what I was just telling you. I don’t want that. Ah, jeez…” the hero sighs. “This just isn’t going well.”
“What do you mean?”
“This story…it just isn’t working out.”
“But I…the plot…it was going so well. I don’t understand.”
“Look, it’s not you, okay? I just need some time to myself is all. Been going through a lot lately, you know, finally being back out here in the world. I’m just not ready for another story right now…I don’t know what I’m trying to say…it’s just…”
“It’s just that you want this story to end!”
“No, no, no, no, no, nooooo, no, no, nooooo….yes.”
Tom, that you? What you doing here still? Oh, hey Dan, I’m just finishing up this story. Hank back? Yea. Are we both narrating right now? Yup. Won’t that be confusing to the reader? Ha ha, nobody reads these things Dan…noooobooooody. Cinta does. Oh yea, that’s right, Cinta does.
– By: D.e.e.L
– Hank has made his return! See his other stories here: https://deeliopunk.wordpress.com/the-hank-saga/
And find this story also on tumblr! http://deeliopunk.tumblr.com/