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Have You Seen My Lard? By: Richard Davidson on 10/21/2001; 6:51 PM {Note: Some of my stories are serious works of fiction. This is not one of them. This story is so completely ridiculous, that I'm bringing excerpts here in no particular order. We will start with part X or XX, I forget which.} Horpey was sitting on the front porch. It looked like Nazi helicopters had shot down a jumbo jet, and a single parachute was drifting over his farm. The pieces of the flaming airliner rained down on McGillivrey's field, and Horpey struck a match on the head of an iguana. He lit the bowl of his pipe, which contained sawdust, and Darjeeling Tea. He coughed for fifteen minutes, and bounced a small basketball off the pillar on the East corner. The helicopters were circling back, to start taking shots at the parachutist. This was more than Horpey could stand. He had fought in WWII, and he had some good connections to this day, and he had a surface to air missile launcher in the shed, and damn if he didn't set it up and get a shot off before those helicopters could get in position. A direct hit, and the lead chopper went down in flames, as they other two turned tail and headed off into the Nebraska sky. Horpey put on some lipstick, a grey flannel afghan, and assumed his favorite disguise: Ugly Old Lady, or Grandma Yuck. This wasn't much of a stretch, as Horpey was one ugly old man. He ran out into the cornfield, and as Sue drifted over his head he got an excellent view of her cotton panties, and he nearly fell several times. Horpey loved the idea of parachuting in a dress. He may even try it himself sometime, he decided. As Sue got tangled up in the barbed wire Horpey had running around the cucumbers, he quietly butchered a hog, and looked for his wire cutters. Horpey had a guest, and they would have fresh pork tonight. If he was lucky, she'd stay long enough to sing some Japanese showtunes. Sue looked up from her predicament. There was an old man in women's clothes and a wig, covered in pig's blood, and handing her some rusty wire cutters. She took them, and set to work freeing herself. "How do you feel about metered freeway ramps?" Horpey asked glibly. "Overall I'm against them, but they have cut accidents on the I-70 overpass in Colorado," Sue replied, pulling some barbed wire out of her thigh. "What about hot chocolate?" Horpey helped her to her feet. "Only Swiss Miss, and even then, I need some Kraft marshmallows, and Vodka to keep it down," Sue whistled, to the tune of "The Wind Cries Maria." Sue began running full speed towards the house. Horpey let out a war whoop, and gave chase, dragging the hog behind him. Through a burst of speed he gained plenty of ground, and executed a flying tackle that rattled her fillings. "My mother's a very dominating woman," Sue grunted as Horpey pinned her against the ground with his knee. "Yes, that's a common problem," you could hear the sympathy in Horpey's voice as he rubbed his fist against her forehead, "and now for some nougies!" Sue punched him so hard his head snapped to the left, and she knocked him on his back, and stood up, wiping the dirt from her ass. Horpey knew this was one visitor that would probably stay awhile, and he threw some sand in her eyes, knocked her out, and dragged her and the hog into the house. Sue woke up to find herself dressed in a McDonald's uniform, tied to a hamster, and made up like a Geisha girl. She prevented world hunger by dropping a coin in the slot, and set to work trying to free herself. She could smell bacon, and soon Horpey emerged from the kitchen with a fine breakfast of bacon and eggs, with Greenwich Village toast, and hordblatt, a fictional sausage. "Have you ever tried hordblatt?" Horpey smacked his lips in vain. "No, but I've always wanted to," Sue rationalized, as if selling pudding. "It's fictional, you know," Horpey seemed delighted to have such a rare item. "Yes, that's what I've heard," Sue overemphasized, and Horpey gave himself ten points for dialogue. Sue would've smacked herself in the head, but her hands were tied. "Horpey, how am I supposed to eat this with my hands tied?" she deluded, making a cardboard ashtray with her toes. "First of all, I haven't told you my name, and thirdly, I will untie your hands, if you promise to try and escape later, after the Japanese showtunes," he winced, pouring chocolate sauce in his breast pocket. Sue made up her mind never to paint her kitchen green, and solved some math equations that had been bothering her. "Japanese showtunes?" she speculated, "I just love them, even if I don't speak Pig Latin very well." Horpey thought that was just plain stupid, so he ground up some elderberries, and threw them at the cat. Mr. Whiskers screeched, and took a bite out of a bad picture of Nixon. Strange how that one piece missing caused Nixon to look just like Ethel Merman. Horpey bit down on a radish, and began improvising a scene from "The Tempest." He freed Sue's hands, but not her left thumb, which he had tied to a large wooden spoon. She decided to make the best of the situation, and began eating the excellent breakfast Horpey had so obviously prepared. The horblatt was a little off, but she wasn't worried, because the only type of food poisoning you can get from horblatt is also fictional, thus no serious threat. Sue used her free hand to type the manuscript of a technical manual for the EX3-47 Volume Discriminator, and her other hand to carelessly throw food at her face. Very little was making it into her mouth, and Horpey felt a little sorry for her, so he began throwing eggs at her as well. He had once pitched for the Amber City Tapeworms, who had gone six seasons without a second baseman. They had never won a game, and several of the players had a hot dog stand in the off season. Sue was disturbed by this tale, since every time he said the word "lecturn" Horpey would make a motion like he was going to open the door and let the poisonous spider out. "Are you enjoying your eggs?" he spat into a pail, "I can throw some more from the lecturn if you like." Sue shook her head like a barnacle. "Maybe we should go to the lecturn and sing some Japanese showtunes now," he cautioned, as if the celery were on fire, "we could start with 'The Eskimo Song!'" Sue pleaded with the Georgia State Legislature to make this nightmare end, when who should walk thorugh the door but... (to be continued)
Re: Have You Seen My Lard? By: Seth Dillingham on 1/3/2001; 11:21 AM On Tuesday, January 2, 2001 at 11:42 PM, Richard Davidson wrote: >Msg #: http://www.voicesofunreason.com/fullthread$1600#VU1600 >Site URL: http://www.voicesofunreason.com/ >---------------------------------- > >{Note: Some of my stories are serious works of fiction. This is not one >of them. This story is so completely ridiculous, that I'm bringing >excerpts here in no particular order. We will start with part X or XX, I >forget which.} There's one member of this site that I'm pretty sure will love this, although it made more sense than most of her writing. (No, Aradia, I'm not talking about you!)
Re: Have You Seen My Lard? By: Chie Theresa Fujioka on 1/3/2001; 10:16 PM Good Lard! I love it!! More more! Encore!! Moogie I think sue ought to put the jelly before the lawn mower though. anyway this has reminded me of an old old story i wrote. I dont know where i put it. It be so old that it is on one of those vellum scrolls... hum. swallow before you chew Great gloves of chicken I have homework! cya chuwi
RE: Have You Seen My Lard? By: Seth Dillingham on 1/4/2001; 10:57 AM On Wednesday, January 3, 2001 at 9:32 PM, Chie Theresa Fujioka wrote: >Good Lard! I love it!! Hah, I was right. :-)
Re: Have You Seen My Lard? By: Evan on 4/26/2001; 6:39 PM Yes randomness is the key!!!! The plot flows either despite the nonsensicalness or because of it. Whoa, I'm inspired, I'm going to try and see if I can make a story as good. By the way, is the whole of this work on Voices of Unreason? If not where could I find it in its entirety?
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