Fun and Games in Waffle Town
Her: Tell me a story about Harvest Moon, but make it about Waffle Island, where Luke lives.
Me: You mean Punk Ass? Well, let me think... (several minutes pass) Got it!
Okay, John McCain lost the presidential election. So he went to Waffle Town to hide out. He made friends with those weepy sprites, and he would shuffle around, mumble to himself, then they would all burst out in tears. It was really pathetic. So then, Sarah Palin popped up!
"Let's go hunt moose!" she yelled.
"Memememememe..." McCain mumbled sadly.
"Maverick! You betcha!" Sarah Palin yelled, and ran off. She met up with Punk Ass, who was being a punk ass as usual. "Let's hunt some moose!" she yelled.
"Bad ASS!" he yelled back, and they ran off to be stupid together. Then they shot a moose, and McCain interrupted the whole thing.
"Sarah! The sprites found a rainbow we can go over to a land where we'll be happy and stuff!"
"You betcha!" Sarah Palin yelled, and ran off with McCain.
"Wait! What do I do with this big dead moose?" Luke yelled after her.
She turned around and gave him a thumbs up. "Maverick!"
Luke made a puzzled face. "But that doesn't MEAN anything!" he wailed. He stomped off for home, where his wife Angela, who was way too good for him, was cooking some spinach dish. He told her all about what had happened.
"You killed a moose?" she said, horrified.
"No! That crazy lady did! But now it's just laying there and I don't know what to do with it!"
So Angela, being much smarter than Luke, went and got the mayor and some other guys. They dragged the moose's carcass up the rainbow and let it slide all the way down the other side, to join the failed Republican ticket wherever they had gone, presumably Iowa or somewhere else that was boring.
That was all settled. Then...somebody else troubling came to town. It was one night when everyone was hanging out in the bar...
Me: These losers have a bar, right?
Her: Yeah, the Sundae Inn.
Everyone was in the Sundae Inn, drinking it up. When in walks this fat guy in a leather jacket, with greasy black hair slicked back. "Two chili dogs, and make it snappy," he barked at the waitress. "What are you punks looking at?" he snapped at the townspeople who were looking at him. "I have hypoglycemia, and if I don't eat often, my blood sugar gets low and I get dizzy. So back off with your judgments!!!" Everybody looked away quickly, except for Gill, who was the awesomest guy in town. He knew something was up, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.
The fat guy gobbled down the chili dogs, then stood up to leave. "I don't have to pay, I'm Indiana Jones's son. That's right, I'm Mutt," he smirked, then waddled out. Gill narrowed his eyes in a super cool way and then quickly retrieved the comb that "Mutt" left behind.
He took it to the library and tried to analyze the strange markings he found. The computer recognized them, but couldn't pinpoint the planet they came from. Where it was supposed to be was empty on the stellar map! Someone had obviously erased the data. But Gill didn't give up; he dug and dug until he figured out that it was the planet of Geonosis. He called them on his Blackberry and they told him that his father, Mayor Ray Nagin...
Her: Mayor Ray Nagin?? The mayor of New Orleans?
Me: Yup.
Her: But...the mayor of Waffle Town is named Hamilton, and he's white, as is his son, Gill.
Me: That's boring. Ray Nagin brings much more to the table. Just go with it.
ANYWAY, Mayor Ray Nagin had placed an order for a troupe of clones! He needed clones to help him take over all the rainbows in the world, in order to make the ultimate Chocolate City. He wanted them to be clones of Mutt, but some chili dog DNA got mixed in too, making "Fat Mutt." This guy that had been terrorizing the island was one of the clones, gone haywire. Gill left, armed with this knowledge, and went to confront Fat Mutt.
He found him in the woods, with Punk Ass. "Get out of my way, dumb ass!" Fat Mutt growled.
"Naw! Let's race!" Punk Ass insisted.
Fat Mutt sneered. "Dude, I have a motorcycle, and you have a bike. You're gonna lose."
"You don't know that until the race is over! Come on! Or are you too chicken?" Punk Ass taunted.
Fat Mutt gave a heavy sigh. "I didn't want to have to resort to this, but you're pissing me off," he said, and flicked out his switchblade knife.
Punk Ass erupted in laughter at that, and pulled his axe out from behind his back. "You call that a knife? Now THIS is a knife!" he hollered, suddenly getting an Australian accent. Fat Mutt whimpered like a dog that got kicked, and ran into the thicket, hiding and eating great handfuls of chili from out of his coat pocket.
Gill followed him and shook his head at the sorry sight. "The jig is up, Fat Mutt. I know you're a clone." Fat Mutt tried to make a run for it, but he was too fat to get away. The townspeople caught him and were about to throw him in the sea when the Geonosis cloners showed up to pick him up. They let him get on the ship, glad to be rid of him.
Just then, Sarah Palin jumped out of the bushes! "Look at that fat moose! I'm gonna shoot him!" she yelled, and fired a potshot. It grazed his butt and he yelped and waddled as fast as he could up the ramp onto the spaceship, and they quickly departed.
That night, Gill was trying to sleep when he heard the sound of an engine revving over and over. He got up, threw on his black velvet bathrobe, and peered out the blinds. It was Punk Ass, who had gotten hold of Fat Mutt's motorcycle and was doing donuts in the town square. Gill sighed heavily, then went outside. He threw bricks at Luke until one hit, beaning him in his head and ending the nonsense.
So Gill slept happily in his black satin sheeted bed, being awesome; Luke slept uncomfortably in the town square with a lump on his head; and Mayor Ray Nagin didn't sleep at all - he was up, plotting his next move in his quest to create the ultimate Chocolate City.
Key to Terms:
All right, so I don't expect you guys to understand half of that. Here's a few explanations that might help. Or they might not. I don't know.
Punk Ass = Luke : I call him that because when Yunakitty showed him to me and asked my opinion on him as a bachelor, I said, "No, that guy looks like a Punk Ass! He's the kind of kid who rides his bike around the neighborhood all day, yelling, 'I can beatchu!' and wanting to race everybody. And in bed, he's probably like, 'I can beatchu!', pumping at himself, and the girl's like, 'No, that's not how it works!' But it's too late, because he's already making a mess everywhere." And what do you know, even after that eloquent warning, she not only married the guy, but wrote a long lemon about him. Ugh. I told her, "Don't come crying to me when he's skateboarding on your kitchen table and wanting a high five after a blow job. I'm just saying!"
John McCain and Sarah Palin were the Republican presidential ticket for the US this past November, in case you've been under a rock or in another country or just didn't care. Yes, they lost. She was some maverick from Alaska who used to hunt moose, which is why the running joke about her killing moose.
Iowa - yunakitty's paternal family hails from here, and she spent summers there. I refuse to travel there, as it seems to be nothing but pigs and corn, two things I detest. It also seems awfully boring.
Gill - To me, he looks like Nick Rhodes from Duran Duran, who is the coolest guy on the planet. Thus, Gill is also cool. Nick is very stylish and refined. Oh, and he has a Blackberry.
Mutt - Indy's son, from the new movie Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
Fat Mutt - I was Indiana Jones for Halloween, and in shopping online for some of the accessories, I came across pictures of some fat, Horatio Sanz lookalike wearing a Mutt costume. Just google "fat mutt indiana jones" and you'll find him. It's hilarious. Somebody also made a picture for a made up movie "Son of Indy" with that guy and it says "If there's a chili dog with a name on it, it must be ... Son of Indy!" So hence the chili dogs.
Looking up the stuff on the computer and Geonosis - part of the plot from Star Wars Episode Two: Attack of the Clones.
Mayor Ray Nagin - is awesome. Google him. Much more interesting than this Hamilton guy.
"That's not a knife..." - from Crocodile Dundee.