Gerslabe

Gerslabe: A Story of Two Smiggs
By Hyram C. Gilmore

ONCE upon ago there was no use in telling it, the lamps had not but the others did. King Homar knew it was too late to wash the frogs; so his wife made dust for lunch. They both knew full well that large green funnels would soon fall from the sky. Without warning the Merbs cheated each other out of their Volkswagens; making it difficult to play records with the toaster. “Give me no wrenches. My birds are smiling!”, said the young snitch. “Run down there and slap that tree so we can twirl our fruit in peace!”

Noodles remembered that there had been strange sounds coming from the click-poonkler not two hours before. It was widely known that click-poonklers were largely to blame for the rash on the kitty; but there had been no ugly yard things lounging around the Taco Bell today. Therefore, of course, the roofing cement became airborne and struck three birds on their way to the movies. No one would warn them that the giant marbles would be the next dessert at the Holiday Inn.

Creeps, jerks, and stupid-heads filled the hall with their singing:

“O give me some meat
That has sat on my seat,
And I’ll show you some meat
I won’t eat.”

This was sung to the tune of “Home on the Range”, while people barfed rubber bands through their noses. I don’t want to visit there anymore. I’ll never use rubber bands again. Don’t ask me to go there, because the dogs change their underwear with the lights on.

When we got home, we discovered that the new tires were now in complete control of the TV. All they wanted to watch was “The Jetsons”; and they peeled out all over the brand new raisins. “O my God, I can’t believe you don’t know the answer to this!”, they hollered. So Poable yelled back, “You jempergleens! Do you mean to tell me that a glandular disorder can actually issue traffic warnings? There’s a big cruncher out here with your names on it; and I’m not eating until that woodchuck quits picking his nose! Take his new pajamas away so he won’t try anything funny!” The woodchuck took great offense to this and tried to drown his sorrows with Twinkies and tomato juice.

By this time the reader must be a bit apprehensive. If this is supposed to make any sense, my goat is a sump pump. Well, of course this is not supposed to make any playdoh out of broken clocks. But if things are fun to read, people may be inclined to forget that they left their hairballs in the pizza mix. Life could become more cro-naybley! Glue could be served to science teachers as a nutritional supplement! Real value could be found in small pies! Planetary travel could really be screwed up! At best, laughter would fill the 5-gallon conatiner. Maybe even the container! Ispelgudyup!

Ever wonder what would happen if your typing fingers got lost from “home row”? It would probably lppf sd ig yhr eotfd ertr noy mskinh drndr! ;p. look as if the words were not making sense! ;p.

Always smiling, the two Smiggs (Remember those two Smiggs? This is a story of two Smiggs!) landed with a thump on top of the Empire State Building. They looked over the view and stared at each other, shaking their floaglits. Mogney asked Bloonk,”Whoa! Don’t these people know how to lick their eyebrows? We’ve been here for three biggles now and I still can’t read their fire hydrants!” “Maybe they are deaf, and can’t see us waving our teeth at them”, replied Bloonk. “Ollee ollee, oxenfree!” Mogney yelled, honking his boadler as hard as he could.

“Listen here, you boadle honker! We can’t act as if we own the place! I mean, the yellow pig food is really starting to agree with my outlook on life,” said Bloonk. Having said this, he and Mogney jumped from the top and ran to the nearest bystanders. The poor folks took one look at them and began reciting every Devo song they knew. The Smiggs tapped their dretzels to the beat and hummed along just as loud as they could. Very shortly a policeyman arrived and asked them all what the @#$% they were doing. They politely stole his hat and made funny faces at him; and offered a chance to win a shiny new dime for guessing the best soup in the world. The policeyman said thank you very much, but he had already had enough wood particles for one day.

Now, if you look closely at the facts, you will surely notice ants in your undergarments. Disturbing as this may seem, many cultures are now changing their approach to fried hammer handles. Long lists of edible plastics have been sent to the local governments, but the representatives still insist that it would be better to shovel candles into a small motorcycle than to tax the bug doo-doo upon which we walk. They seem to think that by grinning when folks belch, a new and more receptive attitude can be cultivated in the inner regions of crayon boxes.

For myself, I have always known that zebra mussels are very yummy in cake. Proving this has not been easy; but when I have friends over for tea and slobberfood they smile sheepishly and say “What’s crunchy?” When I tell them they are snarfing down thousands of little zebra mussels in each bite, they say “O” and excuse themselves out the door very quickly.

I’m quite certain they are rushing home to make their very own Moobi-Moobi!

Thank you very much, O-K!

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Berg Snerfles Who Live On Mars

Note: The following story was inspired by our grandsons when they were several years younger than now. If you don’t believe me, just ask me some time.

Back in the day, which was the day before a few thousand days before today, on a Saturday, during the summer, a large, pickle shaped meteorite fell to Earth with great screeching and flaming and smoke and kaboom. All the local folk saw it land in Clem Barfington’s corn field; and it seemed like just as soon as it hit the ground there was a crowd of curiosity seekers closing in to check it out.

Several minutes after the meteorite landed, there was still quite a bit of smoke floating up from the cornfield crater. However, the smoke was very strange… it was bright orange with green and purple stripes; and had a very unique odor. Cindy Tringletoes was pretty close to the site, and had been breathing some of this strange vapor as the crowd grew. Suddenly, her eyes opened really wide as she took a couple long, deep sniffs. Then her face kind of twisted sideways as she started speaking out of the left side of her mouth and said, “Hmmm… smells like a combination of Zanga fruit and Brope noodles!!”

After Cindy’s strange announcement, her Mom started to ask her what the HECK she was talking about; but was interrupted by a faint tapping noise coming from inside the meteorite. The tapping grew louder… louder… LOUDER and was quickly followed by a shrill noise as a part of the meteorite began to move. The movement continued and it quickly became apparent that some kind of door was opening out of the meteorite. The crowd gasped and stepped back quickly; and Steve Woofclank blurted out, “Ummm folks?? This here ain’t no meteorite!!” Of course by this time the crowd was pretty aware they were witnessing something very strange.

The door opened completely and two strange beings climbed up from inside; and stepped out of what the crowd now knew to be some sort of space ship. A hush fell over the crowd as they stared in amazement. None of the townspeople had ever seen beings from outer space before; and the bright orange skin with green and purple stripes (very much like the strange smoke) fascinated them to the point that they all stood very still with their mouths open.

The beings sensed that the crowd was amazed, and maybe even a bit frightened by what they were seeing; so they quickly spoke through their cravnabs to introduce themselves. And yes, like every strange story about space beings, the visitors knew English…

“Hello Fellow Universe Beings!!” the first visitor said. “My name is Wognob, and this is my wife Bleeftok. We are Berg Snerfles from Mars, but I think we made a wrong turn near your moon. Hope we didn’t mess up your corn crop too badly when we landed.” After Wognob uttered his greeting, he turned to his wife and whispered, “Oh my, these strange beings are rather weird looking, aren’t they??” Bleeftok pinched Wognob’s cribnoot and whispered back, “The Creators made all beings in the Universe, we must not be rude to them even if we find them homely and smelling like Martian fish food.”

Then Bleeftok spoke up and said, “We need to get back to Mars soon because we’re missing the Celebration of Chiggles. But we’ll need some fuel and we hope you can help us.” Cindy Tringletoes, still very wide-eyed, walked up to them and asked, “I will help… what can I do?” “Well,” Wognob said abruptly, “we believe your Earth has just the fuel we need. We’ve been receiving your television signals for many years, and we are pretty sure that if we could get some of your Lucky Charms and a little milk that would help quite a bit.”

Very quickly, Bleeftok turned to Wognob with a puzzled look and asked, “How will that help our fuel situation??” Wognob’s face turned turquoise as he looked at the ground and said, “OK it won’t, but I’m hungry!” The crowd laughed, but Cindy and Steve took off and quickly returned with several boxes of cereal, some milk, bowls, and spoons. It wasn’t long before everyone was sitting down while munching on Lucky Charms and telling stories about their children and the upcoming Firefly Festival.

Bleeftok ate her share and stood up to thank everyone. “We very much appreciate your hospitality,” she said happily. “Now if we could just get a few hundred gallons of maple syrup and a pack of matches we can be on our way.” George Frocksnibble shouted from the back, “I have a load of syrup on the back of my pickup truck you can have!!” “That’s right neighborly of you, George,” said Bleeftok. So George backed his truck up near the space ship and Bleeftok jumped aboard and began slurping ALL the syrup out of the containers. Afterward, she got some matches from Brenda Shortsnout and pushed them into her left air sniffler.

Bleeftok’s head began to wiggle strangely as she ran back into the space ship. Suddenly, what sounded like a huge sneeze came thundering out of the belly of the ship; and very soon afterward the outside lights started flashing as a whirring noise seemed to signify that the spaceship was starting up. With a startled look, Wognob dropped his bowl of cereal and ran over to the door of the ship and shouted a few things to Bleeftok, who was still inside. With a few nods of his head, he turned to the crowd, smiled, and shouted, “Sorry kids!! Gotta go!! Thanks for everything!!” Then he jumped inside and the hatch closed behind him.

The space ship shuddered a bit, then rose slowly as more orange smoke with green and purple stripes began to flow away from the landing site and over the crowd. Finally, there was a very large farting sound and the ship was gone. After getting a few sniffs of the weird smoke, the crowd all became very wide eyed and smiled broadly as they started reciting Martian poetry and did the Elbow Hooking Dance.

Wognob and Bleeftok were very grateful for all the help they received, and have been leaving messages of thanks on the insides of boxes of Lucky Charms ever since.

The End (…for now)

I’m very certain this week’s cartoon exemplifies exactly what it’s like on Mars. Oh and don’t forget the second cartoon to enjoy Bimbo’s journey to the red planet.

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