Archive for the ‘Gripping Melodrama’ Category

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Large Potato Strikes Earth

Friday, December 19th, 2008

Wellington Leg: Mrs. Hannah Fragrue of Punting Only When Necessary reported a potato shaped object lingering in the eastern sky late Friday. After calling Wellington Observatory she hurried outdoors in time to see the object strike the ground, not far from her late model Geo. “It hovered, then changed direction before zooming over my house,” she said. Before landing the UFPO flew in a tight orbit over the Leg’s Historic Rotunda. The toney suburb of Punting is several miles from the Rotunda yet the potato covered the distance in a matter of seconds.

Flying Squad Investigates: Though reluctant to leave headquarters on such a chilly night, DCI Borchardt and the Flying Squad arrived in time to see Mrs. Hagrue “apparently in conversation with the potato; we approached with caution as the subject emitted a green laser like glow, visible for several blocks.”

Earl Summoned: Though napping after a vigorous Jerry Springer like workout, the forty third earl rushed to the scene in his latest Wellbryd, a hybrid ox cart with flames on the side paneling. Capable of speeds in excess of five miles per hour the Wellbryd features rocket launchers and a state of the art stereo system. As he approached the interstellar potato began to vibrate and a metallic voice was heard to ask,” Are you accepting unsolicited queries?”

Deep Space: Where News Travels Fast: The earl, displaying his usual presence of mind, revealed that the space potato may have been launched from his own roof. “I’m querying again.” he explained. “I am exploring various query delivery systems and the potato may have drifted off course.”

False Alarm? DCI Borchardt, a literary rival of the earl’s, was extremely displeased. “I fail to see the literary value of launching a query via the Potato Method. Clearly this attempt to jump the queue failed miserably. We are returning to headquarters more than a little miffed by a flagrant false alarm.”

The report of a “potato shower” near Goth only added to Borchardt’s frustration. “I am not going to investigate. Period,” he said.

T. Rex Love-Handles reporting.

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Tuffington: Pirates are Bad

Friday, November 28th, 2008

Wellington Leg: In a ceremony shrouded in silliness the forty third earl condemned piracy just moments before Gastropod Alley suffered its fourteenth piracy incident in less than a week. The latest incident involved a remote control yacht and a man wearing a scarf with a knife clenched in his teeth. Our defense forces were alerted and the earl’s second nap interrupted by the hubbub.

He Travels Swiftly to the Rescue: The Tuffington Post has learned that the forty third earl rode by horseback from his ancestral yet depreciating estate near Cumberbund to deliver a sharp criticism of the pirates. Unfortunately his prepared remarks became unreadable after his mighty steed, Mrs. Peel, chewed the pages. “One supposes his prose is a tasty treat if one is a horse,” said Professor Moriarity, a paid political consultant. “The pirates don’t appear very concerned.”

Fearsome Display: Once arrived on the shores of Gastropod Alley, the earl dismounted. The jeers from the pirate crews offshore carried on a following breeze. Undaunted, the earl requested that his battle dinghy Forthright make sail without delay. He transmitted this command via cellular telephone to embittered dogsbody Urquhart Depew who clings to the belief that he and the earl were switched at birth.
Musical Interlude: To obscure the fact that little actual progress is being achieved the Wellington Leg Marching Band struggled through a down tempo version of When the Levee Breaks.
Meanwhile your reporter has learned that the Forthright has been sunk! To confirm this aspect of the story I hurried toward Cumberbund where the towne’s last hope of reprieve lay in three feet of water, her hull scoured. I can confirm this disaster is real: all that remains of our naval bulwark is a shrunken and shriveled likeness of Fred Flintstone. Apparently the Forthright has been drydocked in an official Flintstone collapsible pool.
A Lot of Hope is Lost: “This is barratry,” the earl cried upon learning of the disaster. Barratry is a crime on the high seas although even Mr. Flintstone might hesitate to claim his pool as “blue water.” As soon as his waders can be located, the earl will engage the enemy with both sword and quill.
Tuffy Tuffington reporting.

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Lost and Found: One Blog

Monday, November 24th, 2008

From the Minutes of the Wellington Leg Emergency Meeting: Whereas we have banned spandex as a material for construction purposes we do recognize the miraculous stretchiness inculcated in its atomic structure, whatever that may be, and thus modify the absolute ban issued yesterday to exclude those areas or pursuits where spandex is an essential ingredient to a garment or other object under pressure or stress. However, the Towne shall frowne upon the frivolous or impertinent combining of spandex with sushi or spandex and ice sculptures, two examples of recent behavior this body has sought to condemn. Once an ice sculpture has melted it becomes a puddle and theref ore a nuisance. Similarly we regret the unintended consequences of our previous octopus ban; who knew that so many loyal readers are of the tentacled persuasion?

Yes, One More Bite of the Apple was also banned or exiled by the inadvertant application of law and ordnance pertaining to spandex and the discussion thereof. Only a riot of spandex weilding octopi spared us from being lost forever in the white fuzz of internet space.

Thank you.

Sincerely, The Wellington Leg Towne Council.

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Book Nook Gusher

Friday, September 5th, 2008

Wellington Leg: Eddie Parker proprietor of Indie Bookstore Eddie’s Book Nook reports a surge in sales for the month of August. Eddie’s book sales are flat but his fractured horizontal drilling experiment is paying off big time. Eddie drilled through the floor near the “personal growth” section of the store right where Boone Pickens predicted he should drill. “We got down to eleven thousand feet,” Eddie said. “Then we injected Dr. Pepper into the seam and hit a gusher. This is better than an espresso machine.”

There Will Be Mud: While it was difficult to train bookstore employees as roughnecks and roustabouts some are enjoying the experience. Marge, the afternoon cashier, is now operating a compressor three thousand feet below the surface of the store. “I pack drilling mud when I’m not injecting soda,” she says. “Plus no one calls me with stupid questions.”

No Flare Off: The bookstore is a little noisy at times because the shale formation beneath Eddie’s store is “tight.” That means that Marge and the other staffers have to work extra hard to push the drill bits through the sedimentary rock. “One day Marge lit a big stick of dynamite,” Eddie recalled with a chuckle. “Luckily she yelled ‘fire in the hole’ because the explosion leveled a city block.”

Cable Tool Method: Unlike other drillers in Towne Eddie is content with the old cable tool approach to cracking rock. “This approach creates the least disruption to our customers who, after all, are browsing for books. We all remember the day Mr. Mortimer Sleeve was launched several stories into the air when I tried to ring him out on a jet of superheated steam. The good news was he had completed his purchase and came back to earth fairly promptly with his book intact.”

Mr. Sleeve Demurs: The customer in question declined to be interviewed for this article although he did refer this reporter to a “handler” a young man wearing an out sized Stetson made of foam rubber who wanted to be called PBJ, perhaps a reference to peanut butter and jelly. “Dang it, that there bookstore is a menace to decent and law abiding citizens,” he said. “I say, ‘drill, baby, drill,’ but in the Personal Growth Section? You gotta be kidding me.”

Eddie hopes to complete a pipeline to Houston as soon as Marge locates her welding goggles. “I left them near the cash register,” she said. “Right next to the Fetzer Valves.”

T. Rex Love-Handles reporting.

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Writing Pill Nears Approval

Sunday, August 3rd, 2008

Wellington Leg: Researchers at the Big Box Institute near Goth are close to perfecting a writing pill, sources say. The pill was tested on mice writing memoirs and novels. A startling 67% of the mice thought they had finished writing a book, 23% said they almost finished 4% thought Paris Hilton is running for president and one mouse refused to make any comment at all. Mice with writers block were forced into a lengthy discussion of the Mets bullpen. 11% of those mice thought that Paris Hilton is a current member of the Mets roster.

Human Testing: Since 670,000 mice broke out of the laboratory over the weekend various other creatures have been given the Writers Pill according to Doc Holliday who administers the program. Rabbits did extremely well with a solid 56% believing they were typing when they were actually dozing, another 18% enjoying the Colbert Report while many others facing their fear of Elmer Fudd for perhaps the first time.

A Simple Plan: To round up the escaped mice sheriff’s deputies staked out Minnie’s a local bar noted for its tiny treadmills and test tube shooters. To enhance their vigilance the deputies and assorted volunteers were given the Writer’s Pill and a straight shot of Jack Daniels. A whopping 71% of those polled believed they had arrested the runaway mice, 12% said Barack Obama is a Muslim while a troubling 44% reported difficulty counting that many mice.

One Pill Makes You Larger: The Writing Pill has several side effects. Book reviewers turn up their noses at books written by mice especially when the book isn’t written. Oprah is not interested and for many life outside the lab is simply too demanding. The Re-Write Pill can reverse some of the effects but so far only 14% of the subjects believe they are rewriting.

There is a large reward for the capture of the runaway mice.

T. Tex Love-Handles reporting.

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Triumphant Return? You be the Judge

Friday, August 1st, 2008

Wellington Leg: Apparently the earl’s luggage exceeded weight limits as the great blue whale expelled the author of VOLTAIRE’S MIASMA along with the suite of furniture he rode in on. Local residents complained of furniture “falling from the sky” in numerous phone calls to the Flying Squad. Constable Constable was on duty late last night when the initial call came in: “I was three blocks from Dunkin Donuts when I got the squeal,” he wrote. “A gentleman complained that his Schnauzer was forging an Amazon review on an antique escritoire.”

Pre-Rafaelite Doodling? Constable is also Wellington PD’s resident sketch artist. He displayed his rendering of the Schnauzer: “As you can plainly see the dog is posting an anonymous review…his paws are poised over the keyboard in a furtive manner. He is listening to a police scanner.”

Louis Quatorze in the dog house? Police recovered a massive and ornate “secretaire” from the Schnauzer’s palatial dog house. “It is very probably the object of art that the earl rode to safety after being launched homeward by the whale,” noted Professor Moriarity. “One supposes a parabolic longitudinal aspect to his dramatic reentry.”

Allegedly “Parnassus”the dog in question seized control of the blog One More Bite of the Apple making a series of entries that called into question whether humans can read or write. Fortunately while trying to press enter with his chin Parnassus  struck eject and was launched skyward before coming to rest on Mrs. Ahearn’s prize winning antimacassar.  Parnassus enjoyed a glass of Jameson’s and a game of scrabble before the Flying Squad arrived.

Constable Constable drew a portrait of Parnassus before taking him into custody.

“The skies over Wellington Leg are furniture free,” Constable said.

T. Rex Love-Handles reporting.

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Wildcatters Strike Literary Gusher

Thursday, July 17th, 2008

Wellington Shale Formation: When last we saw young Tuffy Tuffington he was scraping the hardpan with a greasy spoon. Unable to file his story Tuffy did what any intrepid writer would do: he dug a hole for himself. Yes, not even the use of a reflexive pronoun, certainly a weakness of Tuffy’s, could prevent what happened next. Sometimes missing a deadline is a prelude to enormous scientific progress although most of the time one has nothing to do with the other. On that cautionary note we continue with our saga Tuffy in the Desert.

As Tuffy digs he notices that the soil is darkening, bubbling, spitting. He’s found a gerund deposit a few feet down. Not a wildcatter by trade Tuffy digs deeper striking an entire strata of what appears to be Cormac McCarthyite, a rare earth mineral so precious that some reviewers and critics want us to drill in the Outer Continental Shelf but mean green liberals won’t let us!

Tuffy Rents a Drill Rig: This is a long interlude wherein our hero encounters T. Boone Pickens in a peyote induced nightmare that should result in a three book deal if Tuffy can remember his memoir. Take notes, Tuffy! We cry from the balcony.

The Prose Begins to Flow: after injecting hot air and boiling water into the hole, the wildcatters strike a McCarthyite gusher and the prose begins to flow, the road becomes a menacing wasteland where only the strong survive. In a land of dessicated pickup trucks and peeling paint we sense that a great calamity has befallen the people, and Tuffy must chronicle their demise or be laid off.

Capping the Wellhead: what appears to be an armadillo is a laptop computer with wifi and hifi and a carapace so thick even airport security cannot destroy it. Tuffy’s fingers are on the keyboard, the ground trembles as the precious stuff hurtles skyward in an eruption rivaling Krakatoa.

Tuffy has broken through.

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Bright Rays of Displaced Matter

Wednesday, July 2nd, 2008

Wellington Leg: Mere hours after the major candidates discovered Our Towne an asteroid struck. The rocky mass crashed into an open field creating a massive explosion that lifted bright rays of displaced matter into the atmosphere. A sonic boom and an air horn signaled the arrival of the asteroid during the dinner hour last evening. The errant ‘roid slammed into a soybean field owned and operated by Wellington Bio Fuels. WBF derives alternative fuels from vegetation, discarded beer cans and defunct television sets.

Could Have Been Avoided: “The asteroid should never have landed,” said Science Editor Copernicus. “The left fielder had a bead on it but the center fielder broke across the gap…no one called it.”

Filling Big Shoes: Over at Wendy’s Haus of Mirrored Sunglasses customer Bob Trooper was trying on a pair when the asteroid whizzed overhead. Bob, showing remarkable presence of mind, ordered everyone in the store to put their 3D glasses on: “When you get an asteroid you’re gonna have bright rays of displaced matter,” Bob said. He watched the asteroid in Wendy’s mirrored glasses while Wendy herself watched AMERICAN IDOL. “Those judges can be mean,” Wendy said.

I think it’s time we stopped, hey, what’s that sound? Alice Cooper of Number 7 Pike Place saw the asteroid approaching from the south: “It was coming along pretty fast and then it stopped to listen to a Neil Young song, then it made an illegal left turn during rush hour, man. I’m like where are the cops?”

I can see for miles and miles: No one had a better view of the crash than hitchhiker Dan Tana who rode the asteroid for several thousand miles. He hopped off near the city of Gdansk: “I didn’t expect a ride all the way to Poland.” Dan had hoped to reach Billings Montana by midnight. Dan’s leather jacket turned white with sparkles: “I’m going to Vegas,” he said.

Crater to be Cordoned: The Flying Squad has ordered a quantity of crime scene tape from Amazon.com. “I’m tracking the order,” DCI Borchardt said. Borchardt considered additional purchases while logging in. “Yeah, I ordered a Jimmy Buffet book and three sets of everyday dish ware. Oh, and a telescope.”

T. Rex Love-Handles reporting for Wellington Science.

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Agony Column to Return

Wednesday, June 25th, 2008

Sancto Sanctorum: In the darkest recesses of the Umbrage Building The Druidical & Literary’s Executive Board gathered for a bollocking from major investor Eugenia Phaeton, third grader at Wellington Primary School and manager of My Hedge Fund, a show and tell project run amok. Eugenia pulled no punches in her presentation to the board although some board members objected to Nap Time, others refused their milk and cookies. Little Don, Vice Chairman of the Board, reported that Eugenia “stuck her tongue out at me.” He complained to the Big Fat Guys who demanded that Eugenia stay after school.

Typical Hedge Fund Manager: The Druidical & Literary has suffered a drastic reduction in circulation as well as advertising revenue in the past several quarters. The D&L may close its Goth Bureau despite the bureau’s award winning coverage of the Roman Invasion. Bureau Chief T. Rex Love-Handles vowed to stay on regardless of cost cutting measures imposed by My Hedge Fund. “I will continue to report the activities of the Vecesima Claudia Legion on behalf of the people of Goth, who stand to lose their overflow parking privileges at COSTCO should this relentless military action continue….”

New Ideas Abound: In order to lure new readers the Board announced the return of the Earl’s Agony Column, a longtime favorite of suffering writers in Wellington Leg. “The earl’s timely advice is essential to understanding not only the zeitgeist and weltschmierzen so common to our artistic brothers and sisters who endure all sorts of Germanic afflictions in the name of Art.”

Blue Whale Petitioned: While Eugenia approved the Agony she is foresquare against the Ecstacy so prevalent these days in the hallowed halls of academe. As a precondition to running the column she pointed that the Earl “must be retrieved from the big Whale who swallowed him earlier this month.” To that end the Board issued a Resolution to the Whale or Whales warning of dire consequences of a seafaring nature may result if he, The Earl, is not returned to our collective bosom.”

It’s not how the Board intends to deliver its Ultimatum to a Monster of the Deep.

Tuffy “Unpaid Intern” Tuffington reporting.

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Klatu Alters Playing Field

Tuesday, June 24th, 2008

Middle Old Parke: The Parks Department has concluded that Klatu, the large robot from Mars, will be treated as a statue or monument and maintained accordingly. “We’re going to polish him up this afternoon,” said Department Chief Medvedev. “It’s time to mow the lawn,” he added. A crew on a John Deere riding mower approached Klatu this morning with mixed results. “We mowed a section of lawn before he vaporized our tractor,” said Sid a city employee. The Mars Lander, parked fifty meters from Klatu,  absorbed the grass cuttings through a hollow tube. “We heard a giant sucking sound,” Sid reported.

You’ve Already Thought About Parking Here: Meter maid Constance believes that the Mars Lander is illegally parked. “I issued a citation yesterday,” she said. “Klatu ate the parking ticket.”

Brief Panic Ensues: Klatu took three steps forward and two steps back during lunch Monday afternoon. Sid had unwrapped his peanut butter and jelly sandwich when Klatu lurched forward. “We ran,” Sid said. “Klatu likes Wonder Bread.”

Hizzoner Ponders Options: The Wellington Leg Towne Council is drafting a stern warning to the Mars Lander and it’s occupants: “We demand that the giant robot be removed from our property and further declare that Klatu is a public nuisance. We order the Flying Squad to serve a warrant on the Lander in an expression of interstellar zoning regulations.”

Judge Hamilcar Frist is expected to authorize the warrant in his chambers just as soon as he’s freed from the diving bell he donned late last Friday. The courthouse is besieged by demonstrators voicing their support for the Martians. Mrs. Gabriella O’Day of Henley Hornbrook urged the crowd to “give Mars a chance.”

Officials hope to polish the robot with some sort of bronzing agent. Concetta Comedia dell Arta reporting.

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