Saturday, November 6, 2010
Thank goodness, she thought. I can't handle talking to Moses anymore. That guy may have been a patriarch, but seriously!? Yikes. He could talk the red high heel off a hooker.
Wake up, Cricket. Wake up. Pleeease wake up! Before Moses realizes you're asleep and makes you stay in dream land forever! Maybe if I start running, I'll wake up. That sometimes helps, right?
Cricky started running her tiny little legs in place trying to wake herself up.
"Stop that! Stop that! You're rocking the boat!" screamed Moses.
"Wake up!!!!!!!" Cricket yelled.
She was rocking the boat so forcefully that she tipped both she and Moses straight into the river.
"Brou-ha-ha" he sputtered.
"I'm outta here!" Cricket said.
And she woke up, running in place and squeaking her little cat sounds.
I'm never sleeping again, she thought.
That resolution lasted exactly one hour, before she fell back into dream land again.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Thomas Kinkade! But how ever was Ducky to catch him? She was about to start caterwauling (ha!) when, like a flash, Cricket appeared bolting up behind her. Cricket headbutted Duck up into the air so that Ducky did a flip and wound up standing on Cricket's back. As she was running, Cricket launched onto the mountain goat, used him as a spring board, and flew through the sky! They landed directly next to Thomas Kinkade on the balloon.
"I say!" he yelled.
"No! We say!" Cricket yelled back.
"What? I'm confused."
"Stop running!" Cricket shouted.
Ducky had a death grip around Cricket.
"I'm not running! You stop following! I'm allergic to cats."
"No you're not," said Cricket.
The balloon landed and Cricket, Ducky, and Thomas Kinkade decided to go out to dinner and talk about all their adventure.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
As she watched and Moses droned on, she began to hear a distant song...
. . .
A song that Cricket had grown up with. A song that was connected to her soul. The Man from the Snowy River theme song!! (its such a good song its called Jessica's Theme, you should look it up . . . now). Cricket closed her eyes. A grin spread across her face like butter on toast and a fang popped festively out of her top lip making her look juvenile. She was remember . . .
A crashed hair! I mean, Hare! His tiny little jet was crumpled and smoking and the Hare was toppled over out of it, one leg bent inside. He looked like a rag doll minus the stuffing. When Magnum saw this horrendous crash site, his tiny Fleabler heart swelled with compassion and terror. And that's a lot of stress to put on a heart that could fit inside of a freckle.
The Hare groaned and turned towards Magnum. He was wearing goggles and a silk scarf.
"AAAIIEEEEE!!!!!" the Fleabler shrieked in terror.
"AAAIIEEEEE!!!!!" the Hare replied.
"Why are you screaming?!" Magnum wailed.
"I don't know! Why are you screaming?!" the Hare replied.
They both stopped screaming.
"I think I broked my leg," said the Hare.
"Broked? I think you might have sustained a head injury as well."
"Ha! That's what you think! We Fleablers don't get hurt!"
"...FLEABLERS??" Magnum wondered.
He slowly began to realize that the Hare must have really bumped his head and now thought he was a Fleabler! What was a Flea to do...
. . .
Magnum yelled "SHOTGUN!" (which is a phrase you can yell almost anywhere except a crowded music theater - i cannot take credit for that . . . im watching psych.) Anyways, after Magnum yelled shotgun for reasons unknown to me. . .the hare who now thinks he's a Fleabler fainted. Magnum inched closer to the hare. He reached the hare's ears first, which seemed normal, then he tippy toed down the ears to the face. Then suddenly . . .
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
He, unfortunately never got a chance to find out what Monticello had been prepared to propose. For at that very second, a brigade of minuscule carrots began raining down on the delicate little Fleablers! They heard a fierce cackling as jet-flying, dive-bombing, carrot-flinging Rabbitteers (that is to say, bunnies in tiny jet planes) zoomed by, reveling in their attack. Never before had such a horrendous, unexpected event happen to the little fleas!
The fleas screamed in terror, watching the Rabbitteers circle around for a second barrage.
"AAAIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" they screamed in unison as the Rabbitteers' re-formed into attack position.
Amidst all the chaos, one tiny Fleabler, Magnum, heard a violent rustling in the nearby dandelion patch. He went to investigate in hopes of either quelling an attack or acquiring help against the bumbling bunnies, bitsy flea-sized heart thumped in his chest.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump...
The tiny Fleabler army crawled up to the edge of the bush. The bush stopped rustling long enough for Magnum to poke his head into the bottom corner of the bush. He jumped back as the bush began the shake again. He wondered around the bush slowly gathering leaves, licking them and sticking them on to his bony little legs as disguise. Did you know that Fleabler spit is very sticky? It's like super glue, really it is. . .go squeeze a flea till his tongue pops out and wipe his tongue on something and you'll see. ANYWAYS . . . the now tribal looking Magnum leaped into the bush only to find . . .
Thursday, August 12, 2010
(way to go Dana)
(don't do drugs, kids)
(or write stories when you're not paying attention)
(and then leave your BEST FRIEND to clean up the mess)
(this is just ridiculous)
(but always practice forgiveness and move on from there)
So, backtracking, The Fleablers piled legs to shoulders atop one another, Jacopo being the highest link, seeing as he was the shortest, after all. As they towered in their 5/16" glory, The Fleablers felt like this is what they had been made for! Rather then being lone rogues, they were now one giant flea, ready to take on the world.
And then, they took their first unified step.
And, whatever Dana wrote happened(?).
As the Fleablers laid down in a tangled mess a la' pick-up-sticks, they bandaged their wounds (fleas have notoriously tender skin) and discussed how they could improve their stature. Statute? Statue. Statue!
"We'll make a statue!" they all simultaneously thought. And since The Fleablers all took a telepathy class as a group in the 10th grade, they all understood one another immediately. Not one word needed to pass from their lips.
Yes, fleas have lips.
The Fleablers began crafting their statue plan...
Thursday, May 6, 2010
They decided to stand on each other's shoulders and make themselves as tall as they possible could until they towered over all the other woodland creatures. They only wished there were some dust mites, since they were the only creatures naturally smaller than they. Besides towering, the Fleablers didn't really have a plan. They just assumed that something excellent would have to happen once they were a full 5/16 inches tall (they would be 6/16, but Jacopo was 1/16" shorter than the other two. And then if that was so, they would have to reduce their fraction down to 3/8", and fleas are notoriously bad at mathematics).
And so they put their plan into action...
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Saturday, April 3, 2010
that Moses was laying in the reed basket next to hers. (She knew he was Moses because of the beard).
"Hey!" Cricket mew-yelled. "I thought you were in the basket in the Nile when you were a baby! And how did I get in the Nile!"
"Well, sweet Cricket, let me tell you." Moses propped himself up on his elbow on the side of the basket. "You're dreaming. And you're not in the Nile. We're in the Colorado River."
"What! How did I get here? More importantly, how did you get here?"
"As you were falling asleep, you were imagining how nice it would be to be an Egyptian cat who was worshiped all the time, were you not?"
"Well, I am the man who comes to visit cats who dream of Egypt, since that is where I was born. Plus when I lived in Pharaoh's house I had 73 cats. Would you like me to list them for you?"
"Zippy, Sandy, Ibis, Babu, Hakizimana, Jafari, Moss, Mosi, Mosa..." Moses droned on and on and on and on...
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
She had accidentally put in too many suds this time and was waiting for them to die down before she hopped in. Cricket sniffled and snuffled and sneezed.
"Bless your naughty nose," Ducky said as she pawed into the bathroom.
"Thank you," Cricky replied.
"Why don't you get all wrapped up in your robe while I try to douse some of these blasted bubbles."
"That would be wonderful! Thank you!"
Crick-Snick got hunkered down in her red robe, waiting for her bath to be drawn. As she laid there, she began to drift off into sleep...
Ducky grabbed a bright pink ribbon and wrapped it around the paper bag on Cricket's head so that her head was stuck inside the bag! Now, Ducky had no plans to try to kill Cricket (thankfully it was a paper bag, rather than a plastic one). She just needed to get her out of the way for a while.
With naughty Cricket's preoccupied inside, Ducky sprinted out the front door after Thomas Kinkade. She ran and ran and ran and ran and ran, but to no avail. Poor Ducky couldn't seem to find Kinkade anywhere!
But she realized that the faster she ran, the warmer the weather seemed to get. It had been an absolute blizzard when she left, but now, the flowers were bursting to life everywhere! Tulips and white daisies, green clover and maple trees. The sun popped out from behind the clouds and warmed Ducky's back as she ran.
Unfortunately, the weather kept getting hotter and hotter the longer she ran...
Anyways, enough about this supernatural plan that Duck was plotting. Cricket was being her naughty mischievous self placing a jar of spiders in Duck's bed and taking the best seat in the house (in front of the furnace).
Duck was quietly finishing her favorite Thomas Kinkade puzzle when suddenly a knock was heard at the door . . .
When Ducky opened the door, she saw Thomas Kinkade himself! She was so incredibly surprised! (For those of you that don't know, Kinkade is an American painter of realistic, bucolic, and idyllic subjects, which Ducky just so happened to love). Thomas barged inside, snow billowing off the shoulders of his swishy nylon jacket. He had frozen flakes of snow stuck to his beard and mustache, making him look like Jack Frost.
"Ducky," he wheezed. "I need your help."
"Meow," she answered.
"I understand," he said, running back outside and fleeing, arms flailing like noodles.
Ducky stared at Cricket.
"I have no idea what just happened."
"Neither do I," said Cricket.
Or did she...
As amazing as Ducky's and Cricket's individual talents were, they weren't friends. Cricket felt like The Family was hers (and only hers!) since she adopted them first. Even though Ducky was incredibly sweet, Cricket wanted to kill her. Or at least make her life miserable. Sweet, sweet Ducky never retaliated, even though her giant mittens could have batted Cricket miles away into the ionosphere. Cricket picked on Ducky, Ducky didn't react. But Ducky was secretly hatching a plan...
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Cricket was a cat with different colored fur. She favored the white portions of her self the most but could not choose which of her black and tan portions she liked best. She had slender paws that bounced across the kitchen floor like rain drops on a sky light when she scampered.---
But what Cricket loved even more than her white fur was FOOD. She would lie awake all night- only pretending to sleep- waiting for breakfast to come around. Her little paws curled up whenever she remembered that she got to eat.
Unfortunately for Cricket, however, she had to share her meal time with another cat.