Sleeping with the Squidses!

There is a knock on the door. Brother Jeremy looks both ways before opening the slit on the door to see who is outside. "Who seeks entrance to the halls of the great sleeper?" Whispered Jeremy as he tried to keep his eyes as scrutinizing as possible. The figure outside spoke out of a hood laden by droplets of the New Jersey rain, "Tis I Initiate Robins, who seeks to call Him from the land of R'lyeh." The door opened with the obvious creaks of an old abandoned warehouse spending years upon the water front even though it was a small dwelling near the middle of town.

Initiate Robins stepped in and walked into the parlor, where he expected and was not suprised to see the other members of the Brotherhood standing around trying to be as secretive as they could, even around each other. He didn't even know what any of them looked like. Removing your hood during the meeting was punishable by excommunication. He did know where the all lived though. Initiate Robins led quite a boring life and filled it by trying to know as much as he could while knowing nothing at the same time. It seemed much safer this way.

The meeting went as normal. Nothing new ever happened at their meetings. Always the same rituals. Always the same praises to ol' squid face. It's not that he didn't think it was possible that C'thulu existed but just like everything else he didn't really want to commit to it. Every Sunday he went to church and sang the hymns to Jesus, every Saturday he spent at the temple with his yarmulke just in case the Christians added too much, and he at least got up and looked to the east 5 times a day. Maybe Mecca would know he looked.

The meetings usually ended with any promotions that had happened. Brother Dingle was promoted to Tentacle first class or whatever they called it these days. Initiate Robins had made quite the effort to never go beyond Initiate. He had been in this cult for quite a long time and had been here longer than most of the people. At least he assumed he did. It's quite possible that the old members just moved to where these new people went home to every night. He knew most of their names. The Grand Master's name was Grand Master Poobah. He wasn't sure if it was meant to be ironic or just a happenstance. Names were given to you by Seer Christopher and the never got changed unless giggling happened every time your name was said.

As the meeting let out, the members shuffled slowly and quietly into the street. They didn't really worry about anyone seeing them. The street was notoriously populated with the, how you would say, "Lifespan challenged." They were all in bed before the meeting started. The police hardly patrolled this section of town as well. One, it was full of old people. Two, it was near the scummier parts of town. Most of the inhabitants were old thugs that had just retired with the stripper who no longer could keep her breasts above her belly button. Most of the people here didn't worry about crime either. They had enough connections or still knew enough about the right way to bust kneecaps with a lead pipe that no one really messed with this street.

Now, in obvious fashion, this night would have to be different. Why would there be a story otherwise. As all the members exited the building, two cars sped around the corner, tommy guns outside the windows of the latter vehicle blasting at the one ahead. A well time bullet hit the tire and sent the front vehicle into a skid, crashing into a light post. A body climbed out the driver's window trying to crawl away. His leg or maybe even legs broken with bones not even trying to conceal themselves.

The attackers screeched to a halt about a dozen paces passed the demolished vehicle. The man that got out of the car had the type of features that you expected from a cheap fiction novel bought at the corner magazine stand. He had a large bulbous nose, but deep set dark eyes behind narrow wire rim glasses. He had a scar that crossed from the left ear and curved across the nose up under the right eye. The imagination went wild with ideas of what could have caused a wound like that and left such a monstrous proboscis intact. His thin lips held a long lean cigar that burned as though it was running as fast as it could from the brisk night air, seeking refuge in his mouth. Robins blinked and the cigar was renewed with a new cherry burning at the end.

This man walked over to the man crawling away. You were hoping to see some sort of emotion cross his face, such as hesitation or remorse, but he just pointed his pistol and shot the man dead. Not a word was spoken by either and then the world was still. No one wanted to move as if encountering a wild animal and wanting to play dead. The murderer turned towards all of us for the briefest of moments. He did not focus on us. He didn't even car that we saw; you could tell by the look of him. He knew what he did and it wasn't going to change by what we saw. He had the air as though he knew he was untouchable.

That's Preposterous!

Once upon a cliché time I was scrubbing my bathroom grout. I was down on my knees and my brother walked in and asked the usual, “That reminds me, how is the gay bar doing?” Normally I’d throw a scrub brush into his face and hope his eyes would burn but today I was feeling silly, kind of like how you feel when that clown at the circus wants to take your young cousin to see the elephants talking about how one has a itty bitty trunk. It’s a mix of anger and silliness; you think of so many awful things to do to this man, woman, whatever clowns are and you know that it can’t be anything normal. You need to do something that abashes the very lines of sanely torturing someone. Well, this is the sort of train my brain was strained ain, I mean on. I looked at my brother and answered his question, “Why they are running around in Hammer Pants, smacking an old woman with a taco, and doing a dance that involves them standing perfectly still.” I’m honestly not sure why I said that. Well, I wasn’t sure until a few seconds later when a small creature poofed onto the floor. When I say “poofed” I don’t mean in relation to the gay bar, just clarifying.

This tiny creature looked up into my face and I couldn’t help but notice how unusual it was. It looked like a cross between a Tyrannosaurus and George W. Bush with long noodley arms that still had mittens attached to the end, though I was certain there was no way hands could be tucked in them. What I also noticed was my strange urge to do things that had no purpose or would seem out of character for myself. Then to add to the paramount of silliness that was already happening the thing spoke. The voice was smooth and seductive, as if Barry White had become an orator and sold his soul to the devil for the ability to seduce androgynously. It said, “Oh hello, I’m so glad you said those things. Too many people do not say those silly things that come to their mind from time to time. So many people say them just to get attention or to make someone go away but you said it without any intent of the sort. I’m so relieved I thought social stigma had made me useless! Oh, where are my manners?”

My brother and I both waited for him to continue that thought but he just stood there looking at me. I tried to get him to go on, “Where are your manners….” He looked at me and shrugged, “I’d hoped you knew.” I finally could tear my eyes from him and looked at my brother who just stood there, a slight stream of drool escaping from the corner of his mouth. Finally, I gave in, “Who, what are you?” He spoke and I could hardly hide my arousal but I also had no idea why I was feeling like that. “I’m the Preposterosaurus, pet to his not-so benevolent supremeness,” he replied.

Almost in queue with the predetermined order of all strange conversations I retorted, “Preposterosaurus? What is that?” With that slightly hooked nose and eyes that looked stupid, but full of intention, he sniffed at my grout and continued the conversation without even looking at me. “In simple terms I’m the deity of all things preposterous,” he spoke while he licked my floor and a look of joy came over his face. My brain instantly started thinking, “That was quite a simple explanation for a being of preposterous ideas. I mean, he’s preposterous but not as much as I’d expect.” He then continued talking as if reading my mind, “Of course, everything isn’t as preposterous as you’d think but that wouldn’t make sense. The universe wouldn’t work if the deities were just straight embodiments of their chosen subject. Think about it, could I get ANYTHING done if I was preposterous ALL the time?” I found myself shaking my head just being dragged into his talk, “I mean except for the wonderful supremeness seems to be always in the element.”

“Wait, you know God?” I blurted out as it finally hit me! He looked at me as if I was a crazy clown asking to take his nephew to the snake cage to look at the one-eyed trouser snake. “I know many gods and goddesses, but of course, I know the Supremeness.” He just talked while gauging my face and body. He kept eating my grout and then we watched him grunt and it looked like he was trying to defecate on my floor! Sure enough as I thought it, he did it. It came out in a cube shape and I’ve never seen anything have a dirty glint to it, but there it was. It was surely glinting but was a dark shine.

“Well, I’ve got to get going! Keep up the preposterousness!” He spoke hurriedly as if he was trying to escape recompense for what he just did and poofed out as quickly as he poofed in. It was more like a piff instead of a poof. After my brain finally started blocking out all of this, I went to clean up his excrement and noticed that it was very hard. I dropped it in the sink and it gave a very sharp “Clink”. I threw my hand forward trying to stop it from going down the drain and jamming my finger in the process. My curiosity was getting the better of me today, but I just had to know. After washing it off, which did nothing at all; it was just dark and not going to change. It looked like a crystal of sorts. Not knowing what it was, I had to go to the only place I knew would have the answer: The Internet!

It took me a long time to find. I mean it took 48 mountain dews and 6 pizzas to finally find what I was looking for. There had been other sightings of these small crystals. They were diamonds! That little dinosaur poops out diamonds! Due to their rareness there isn’t even a price for them. Some people claimed to have had them but threw them away because they thought a mouse had pooped on their carpet. I must get more! Time for a life of preposterous intent!

Story for Chaining! Not great but it'll do!

Well, this is the story of a young prince. He is the prince of a small country named Draeden. Which means “Home of Trees” in the old language. Their country had always been full of luscious foliage, from tall trees to the ivy that spread across much of their castle walls and homes. Many who visited called it the green country because that’s all you saw when you came.

Though this had been in jeopardy as there was a blight spreading through the countryside. It wasn’t that the plants were dying; this blight was one that just stopped all the growth. Things just stopped growing all together. It was as if the plants were now lazy. They had no urge to try. No effort at all. The ivy on the walls didn’t die; it just stopped clinging to the walls and fell to the earth just lying there.

The prince was obviously worried about this. He was one of “those” princes. He was the kind that gave other royalty a bad name with his actual concern for serfs and citizens alike. He was known to ride inot town and help with the digging of new town defenses, much to the chagrin of his father who was paranoid of losing any of his power if someone were to take advantage of his son’s reckless altruism.

Well,l the prince was trying to figure out what to do about this blight. He had the court alchemists try every potion and mixture they could think of. He even hired an old hermit who said he could talk to the plants to come and try to diagnose the problem. The hermit said that he had spent most of the day trying to get something out of the plants. For the money was getting he thought he should put a whole days work in. But all he could get out of them was, well, the closest translation into human tongue would be,”Meh.”

From there the prince didn’t know what to do. His father didn’t seem concerned. The prince knew his father was a good man and loved him dearly but he knew his father was a very short-sighted man. His people had learned long ago how to mill and dry pack most of the plants, fruits and grains they now produced for the entire continent. They had stores to last them and their whole country for years probably but the prince didn’t want to test this duration.

The prince knew that there must be answers somewhere. After conferring with his best friend, Mr. Rufflebottoms (His late mother, as all young prince heroes have a dead or dying parent, picked the name), he knew he would need to travel. Mr. RuffleBottoms was one of those mutts that made your average trash digging alley dog look like a thoroughbred pedigree.

He knew as much freedom as he tried to enjoy, his father would never let him do what he was planning. He packed everything he would need to get by in the wilds. He had his bedroll, his knife, his sword, a water skin, and his heavy cloak besides the clothes he wore on his back. He had heard many stories of hunters that had gone out hunting beasts for the villages. How hard would it be to trap food? He wanted to save as much food in the kingdom’s stores for the peasants. He had also heard great stories of the heroes as different bards passed through and he stealed down to the tavern to enjoy the music and poems. He knew due to his royal bloodline he instantly had a one-up on any bandits or monsters.

He spent atleast an hour having an argument with Mr. RuffleBottoms as to why he couldn’t take him along. Mr. RB just couldn’t seem to get the simple facts. It was very frustrating to our young hero. Now, you may want the princes name as it is pretty apparent he is going to be our main character. In order to not snicker at our heroes’ name, you must understand that people in this kingdom viewed plants as powerful parts of life and paid them great respect, even the tiniest daisy. They knew the power it took to grow from that small seed and push their way up. They had monthly rituals where entire villages only ate meat or nothing at all to show the plants that they were willing to let them be for one day and respect their right to privacy; just like a good relationship.

There were footsteps down the corridor and the prince quickly stuffed his travel pack under the bed. “Pansy! Pansy! Are you decent?!” The voice came from a young man in white clothing that had a small chefs hat on. He didn’t really care if Pansy was decent. More than once while they were playing around the castle had he talked Pansy into being naked. Galef had probably seen Pansy naked more than the doctor who had administered to his birth.

Story

So, my friend asked for a bedtime story, so this was a story that I just wrote out on the fly. Thought I'd post it here so I dont' forget.

I know the grammar probably isn't great or punctuation, but it was typed in messenger :P


Well, I will tell you about the Dweller Prince...
his minions were all those small things noone ever wants to govern
like the little crabs that sit in caves
and the fungi that grows in dark places
most people think they don't have minds and can't be goverened
but they are one of the best untapped subjects in the world
they are one of the only peasants that will do things with the dead things so you don't have to worry about them
well, there were many other subjects
once upon a time he was the Prince of Trolls and Dwarves until they decided they were too good to be ruled by him
they wanted Gods
One day the Dweller Prince sat upon his throne made of stone covered in mold for cushion
it was that goldish mold, it made him seem more regal
To describe the Prince as blunt would be like saying Elves were vain
if you didn't want to really examine it, it seemed adequate until you spent your time around them
the fact is, the prince didn't have to elaborate with words at all
Fungi and crabs didn't care about being politically correct
Dmitri was the name of the Dweller Prince
well, in fact he was called many different things but it's hard to translate the Fungolese into English
He had been up in the world quite often
there was many fungi that were out there and crabs that wandered out that had started families and clans out in the sunlight
He actually kind of liked sunlight, it helped cast light on things to show their true nature
but as day only happens during the daytime, he only liked sun part of the time
somethings needed to spend time clouded and mysterious
One day, a young maiden wandered into the cavern that was his Palace.
She noticed the make-shift torches and Cavern sketchings and thought maybe she had wandered upon an old hermits home
she had heard that many had lived out here
She wandered farther down in, as she had been looking for adventure away from the humdrum life of the castle
Apparently she had lived around people, because she didn't think to look where she was stepping and slipped on some mold which caught her unawares and she quickly cascaded down a passage
Finally she thumped into some hard stone
As she stood up, rubbing her hind quarters, she tried to shake off all the moistness that had drenched her clothes from top to bottom
She didnt' notice the pair of eyes that were staring at her in the dark
"What are you doing in my castle," Questioned Dmitri.
Startled, reaching for the only thing to defend herself and jumping back, the young lady pointed a crab at the dark Shadowed figure
The crab would have normally defended, but what are you supposed to do when you are being aimed in a hostile way at your king?
"Put down Clyde," Dmitri said flatly.
The girl looked at the shelled thing in her hands, finaly realizing what it was and squeeled as young women do
She tried to run back up the passage but couldn't get a grip on the wet moss
She was positive she was going to be eaten alive
That's what cave monsters do, she'd heard stories when she had stow-awayed in the inn after hours when she was supposed to be in bed
Dmitri stepped out of the darkness to reveal his stature.
He was quite short, but his possession of the space aroudn him made him look as if he was enormous
It was only magnified by the narrowness of the cave
He was clad in furs and an armour made of crab shells
strangely it looked very strong
His face was shrouded by dark coal like soot over his face
The girl wasn't sure what to do
it looked like ti was human
but it cast a aura over her that she wasn't sure wasn't sure what to do
He walked over and grabbed her and just lifted up to her feet
she wasn't sure what to do
it came so quick and sharply she couldn't even fight back
"I..I....I didn't mean to ummm be...here?" she said, not sure what to say to a man who was obviously going to harm her.
He grabbed her hand and started pulling her up the passage, stepping to the side of the moss, wedging his feet in the corners of the passage and waddled up the passage to the top until they were outside again
He led her outside, gently letting go of her hand as she walked out and then he walked back in
She stood there, waiting, expecting something bad to happen to her
but....it never did
She knew she should go home, but she was fascinated by this situation
why did he just let her go?

Paksha Rhetoric

Paksha make dis ting so when Paksha get smart ideas, Paksha have place put dem! Paksha also want place for Paksha friends talk 'bout stuff wit' Paksha. Paksha not write lots of words.

People notice dat it seem da modern Philosophers not really "Philosophers"? Paksha thot be Philosophy major type person but Paksha tink otherways now. Paksha think tha peoples that try to think about life continually forget about life of everyday.