Tuesday, April 6, 2010

The Hare Ch 1.

Once upon a time there was a rabbit. This rabbit could have also been classified as a bunny, although perhaps a hare would be the best word to describe this creature. I believe it is quite necessary to the story to provide the definition of this said hare, which is as follows: "a fast running, long-eared mammal that resembles a large rabbit, having long hind legs and occurring typically in grassland or woodland." {mac book dictionary}.
Now that you know just what this animal looks like, you should know what he smells like. Moldy cheese and green moss. Yes I know, rather malodorous in deed. How on earth could such a graceful stag bleed forth such a nasty stench? Well here is the reason, this small {yes he was smaller then your average hare} springy specimen lived in a wardrobe. Obviously hares who are surrounded by four walls of solid wood {which his very wardrobe was hand crafted mahogany} never yield anything that smells like sugar or spice, therefore leaving this hare to smell like walking compost. Unlike most wardrobes however, this one was most certainly not magic, in fact it was as non-magic as it could get. Dust did not danced inside this wardrobe like fairies when the sun shown through the cracks, like most flecks of dust do, and there was no magic trail of mushrooms leading to the entrance like there sometimes is.
Well enough about this stinky hare's none magic wardrobe, let me tell you about his very unique neighborhood, which consisted of a single chef who had been around large amounts of garlic so long that it had began to fuss with his brain capacity to work correctly. This chef had a very personal dispute with the hare about three months ago with what was thought to be a beat, a turnip, and a yak, but no one knows for sure what really happened. Anyways, this chef always wore his white hat, even to bed, and always talked with a French accent even though he was from Montana.
I know I said that the only other thing living in the hare's neighborhood was a chef, but are fleas really filed under the human or animal category? I think not. Anyways, there were three fleas who lived in the old abandoned clock tower. They had a job, a single simple job. They were to watch for intruders . . . which would sometimes consist of be a wayward tumble weed or an adolescent squirrel. These three fleas were very vital to the neighborhood but were never properly acknowledged for their countless hours of hard work. I mean I did not even classify them in a living creature category for crying out loud.

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Cricket and the Red High Heels Ch 2.

Duck swirled the suds with her bushy tale hoping the sharp hairs on her tale would pop most of the bubbles. Little did she know it only multiplied the suds by a billion. Before Duck could even realize what was going on, the whole entire bathroom was covered with suds, floor to ceiling.

Cricket was soundly sleeping in her bathrobe without a care in the world. She was dreaming about the rain down in Africa {inspiration -> Toto - Africa} which doesn't seem to happen very often. Suddenly the rain in her dream began to flood her picnic basket that she was sitting in. She felt like she was going to drown . . . she woke up with a start only to find . . .

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?"
"Oh. Uh..."
"Zippy, Sandy, Ibis, Babu, Hakizimana, Jafari, Moss, Mosi, Mosa..." Moses droned on and on and on and on...

Cricket the Greyhound Ch. 5

Mean while Cricket was still stuck in the paper bag. She danced around like she was standing on hot coals. Her head neatly lodged inside the paper bag tied off with a bright pink ribbon. Cricket stopped fussing for a second and started blindly backing up - as most cats do when something is on their heads. She backed up for ten whole minuets . . . then she hit a wall, or a corner rather. She could not back up any further, so she decided to sit and think of what types of food she would eat when she got her head out of the bag.

Duck on the other hand was changing the corse of history with every step she made. Ever paw in front of the other yielded daisies and birds of paradise, a hive of bees even appeared out of no wear and started humming a happy tune. Duck began to run even faster, fascinated by her new found super ability. She forgot all about her original quest of finding her hero Thomas Kinkade and just watched the splendor unfold in front of her very eyes.

Suddenly she felt the heat. It came on so fast that she didn't have time to think. Her fur seemed like it was on fire. Her brain felt like it was going to explode. She slowed to a trot, but her paws felt like they were going to burn off from the hot ground. She came to a stop and glanced back, her eyes wide in horror at what she saw . . .