Well, it has been a while since I posted anything here, and yet I have nothing to say. So after hearing about a website that ripped off my friend, Sean's story "Jaspul", and kept everything the same except for changed one set of cartoon characters for another, I thought to myself, why would anybody do such a thing? Then I thought, why the hell don't I do such a thing? So I did, but I felt all his stories were just a little too naughty. Luckily, I was able to rework this classic masterpiece without it losing its original meaning. So without further adu, I present My adaptation of Sean Catlett's glorious story…
Blooms: Happy edition (Edited for television)
Written by Sean Catlett (Reworked by Erik Klassen and the fine people of the Turner Broadcasting Station)
I pointed my finger over and over again at his silly, round face.
This had been going on for happy hours. The pointing wouldn't stop, and won't until this little fella is sleeping, and he is in his comfy bed.
You don't know the fun he has caused me.
You don't know the things he has taken from me. (They were bad things though)
I wish you knew what it's like. The happy happy fun, that is.
Despite the fact that his lips are busted full of happiness, and all of his teeth are pretty and white, I keep … ummm… pointing.
And pointing.
And pointng.
These are happy points, I might add.
Suddenly, I stop and look at my work. Slowly, relishing every sweet, glorifying super duper happy minute of it.
His arms are tied with happy ropes made of soft soft peppermint. His head is lowered to the ground in goodness. Both of his legs are in very very comfortable positions, and he is on his knees, as if he was begging for the happiness to never end, because he was so incredibly happy. One of his eyelids was really good, although, the other one was too. His gums are definitely not bleeding, they were very happy gums in a waterfall of happiness down his happy unbroken jawbone.
I grab his balloon and raise it to meet my eyes. My face is inches close to his balloon. His undisgusting, happy soaked breath is falling on my face… and saying "I love life"
"You've taken so much for so long. Every thing I've ever loved or cherished." I continued "You have made it all so much better"
His happy eyes stayed on mine.
"Now I'm returning the favor."
I give him a puppy.
An Artists comes and paints good.
An Authors comes over and dreams of moments… of pretty pink clouds.
We sing a creative tune of happiness.
We're both in a field of some kind, and we start to play baseball. It didn't matter… that we didn't have a bat… cause we were best friends
His head snapped back from the goodness, then bounced forward from nifty gravity. I waited for his super reply.
He raised his head at me and smiled his not toothless, happy grin, HE sure didn't have broken Mandibles.
He stuck his tongue out at me, jokingly of course
In a flash, I brought my candy cane up to his new puppy. There was the sound halfway between a happy bark and a super duper happy bark. His tongue (the dogs that is) was catapulted straight up into the air of happiness. I would have outstretched my hand and caught it, hypothetically if it had fallen off, which it didn't.
With my other hand I asked politely to hold on to the back of his head so that he would not hurt himself some how, for some reason, because today was a happy day.
I used a paintbrush to paint a happy little dog on his face completely red, and pink and blue and purple and this pretty shade of orange, for the ears.
Squirming happily, this little friend tried to pull away from me, but he was too happy. It surprised me that someone like this could cause me so much goodness.
"Here, take it back." I said happily
after seeing his nifty jaw open, I didn't put his tongue back in his mouth, because, it was never ever ripped off. I held my hand over his super happy lips.
I saw sugar plumbs in his eyes. The same sugar plumbs he caused me over the years. The same sweet candy I felt.
I don't just want him sleeping comfortably in his nice warm happy bed of goodness. I want him to suffer, the good good suffer of happiness.
I brought my hand away and resumed pointing at his balloon. His tongue … was … umm… happy.
**********
Ten minutes later and there is not a place on his happy face that isn't super duper.
**********
About fifteen minutes later, his cheekbones were like… teddy bears?
**********
Another fifteen minutes and his left eye was good.
**********
He's losing too much ice cream. So I buy him some more.
Funny. After all this time, after years and years of wishing him goodness, I now want him to have more… goodness.
Just a lot longer.
So I speed up. (The Happiness that is)
**********
Scene deleted because of laziness…. Happy Laziness
**********
His life almost super duper duper happy, I quickly brought out my knife and cut his birthday cake. His birthday cake ran warm down his… birthday bowl. For five seconds at most I let him smile some more, then I grabbed his birthday present with both my hands and gave it to him again and again on the grounds surface. Each time it bounced back up, begging me to do it again and again, Because I bought him a basketball.
Symphony… of happiness
I don't know at what point that he ate him cake. I only know that he was happy when I stopped.
Stopped. Then we had some pie.
I stared down at his birthday present and watched for happy goodness . . . . . I got this strange super duper feeling all of a sudden. It's like I was . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . .
Happy Hoping.
Hoping he would stir in happiness. But . . . . . . .
.
.
.
.
Nothing.
He went to sleep in his happy happy bed of goodness.
And I feel super duper better.
Just . . . . . . . wonderfully super nifty.
**********
It's been minutes and I still haven't moved from his birthday party.
I'm staring at it, the cake that is
Fixated at his lifefilled ummm…puppy. Wondering why I did all of this. And I realized because it was his birthday, silly.
He was a worthy birthday boy. Someone to call my happy friend of goodness.
My nifty equal.
I started to sob in super happiness.
**********
I realize that when his party ended, that life is always super great.
One needs a happy force to define his own happy existence.
I am super duper now.
**********
After five minutes, the knife was in two inches. To the last piece of cake
After fifteen minutes, the cake was two feet in diameter of goodness.
After twenty . . . . . . . . .
Heh.
Funny.
I remember what happened after that.
It was a very super happy ending.
End.
Well there it fucking is. Is it a fucking masterpiece or what? I loved it. And I know you all fucking loved it. The story was pretty faithful to the original don't you think? Fuck yes it was. I would like to thank Sean for giving me permission to remake his masterpiece, I of course will ask for that permission, next time I see him.
Any-fucking-way, I better go now, I hope you enjoyed blooms (Happy Edition) as much as I enjoyed ripping it off. Hurray for Copyright Laws!!!
Blooms: Happy edition (Edited for television)
Written by Sean Catlett (Reworked by Erik Klassen and the fine people of the Turner Broadcasting Station)
I pointed my finger over and over again at his silly, round face.
This had been going on for happy hours. The pointing wouldn't stop, and won't until this little fella is sleeping, and he is in his comfy bed.
You don't know the fun he has caused me.
You don't know the things he has taken from me. (They were bad things though)
I wish you knew what it's like. The happy happy fun, that is.
Despite the fact that his lips are busted full of happiness, and all of his teeth are pretty and white, I keep … ummm… pointing.
And pointing.
And pointng.
These are happy points, I might add.
Suddenly, I stop and look at my work. Slowly, relishing every sweet, glorifying super duper happy minute of it.
His arms are tied with happy ropes made of soft soft peppermint. His head is lowered to the ground in goodness. Both of his legs are in very very comfortable positions, and he is on his knees, as if he was begging for the happiness to never end, because he was so incredibly happy. One of his eyelids was really good, although, the other one was too. His gums are definitely not bleeding, they were very happy gums in a waterfall of happiness down his happy unbroken jawbone.
I grab his balloon and raise it to meet my eyes. My face is inches close to his balloon. His undisgusting, happy soaked breath is falling on my face… and saying "I love life"
"You've taken so much for so long. Every thing I've ever loved or cherished." I continued "You have made it all so much better"
His happy eyes stayed on mine.
"Now I'm returning the favor."
I give him a puppy.
An Artists comes and paints good.
An Authors comes over and dreams of moments… of pretty pink clouds.
We sing a creative tune of happiness.
We're both in a field of some kind, and we start to play baseball. It didn't matter… that we didn't have a bat… cause we were best friends
His head snapped back from the goodness, then bounced forward from nifty gravity. I waited for his super reply.
He raised his head at me and smiled his not toothless, happy grin, HE sure didn't have broken Mandibles.
He stuck his tongue out at me, jokingly of course
In a flash, I brought my candy cane up to his new puppy. There was the sound halfway between a happy bark and a super duper happy bark. His tongue (the dogs that is) was catapulted straight up into the air of happiness. I would have outstretched my hand and caught it, hypothetically if it had fallen off, which it didn't.
With my other hand I asked politely to hold on to the back of his head so that he would not hurt himself some how, for some reason, because today was a happy day.
I used a paintbrush to paint a happy little dog on his face completely red, and pink and blue and purple and this pretty shade of orange, for the ears.
Squirming happily, this little friend tried to pull away from me, but he was too happy. It surprised me that someone like this could cause me so much goodness.
"Here, take it back." I said happily
after seeing his nifty jaw open, I didn't put his tongue back in his mouth, because, it was never ever ripped off. I held my hand over his super happy lips.
I saw sugar plumbs in his eyes. The same sugar plumbs he caused me over the years. The same sweet candy I felt.
I don't just want him sleeping comfortably in his nice warm happy bed of goodness. I want him to suffer, the good good suffer of happiness.
I brought my hand away and resumed pointing at his balloon. His tongue … was … umm… happy.
**********
Ten minutes later and there is not a place on his happy face that isn't super duper.
**********
About fifteen minutes later, his cheekbones were like… teddy bears?
**********
Another fifteen minutes and his left eye was good.
**********
He's losing too much ice cream. So I buy him some more.
Funny. After all this time, after years and years of wishing him goodness, I now want him to have more… goodness.
Just a lot longer.
So I speed up. (The Happiness that is)
**********
Scene deleted because of laziness…. Happy Laziness
**********
His life almost super duper duper happy, I quickly brought out my knife and cut his birthday cake. His birthday cake ran warm down his… birthday bowl. For five seconds at most I let him smile some more, then I grabbed his birthday present with both my hands and gave it to him again and again on the grounds surface. Each time it bounced back up, begging me to do it again and again, Because I bought him a basketball.
Symphony… of happiness
I don't know at what point that he ate him cake. I only know that he was happy when I stopped.
Stopped. Then we had some pie.
I stared down at his birthday present and watched for happy goodness . . . . . I got this strange super duper feeling all of a sudden. It's like I was . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . .
Happy Hoping.
Hoping he would stir in happiness. But . . . . . . .
.
.
.
.
Nothing.
He went to sleep in his happy happy bed of goodness.
And I feel super duper better.
Just . . . . . . . wonderfully super nifty.
**********
It's been minutes and I still haven't moved from his birthday party.
I'm staring at it, the cake that is
Fixated at his lifefilled ummm…puppy. Wondering why I did all of this. And I realized because it was his birthday, silly.
He was a worthy birthday boy. Someone to call my happy friend of goodness.
My nifty equal.
I started to sob in super happiness.
**********
I realize that when his party ended, that life is always super great.
One needs a happy force to define his own happy existence.
I am super duper now.
**********
After five minutes, the knife was in two inches. To the last piece of cake
After fifteen minutes, the cake was two feet in diameter of goodness.
After twenty . . . . . . . . .
Heh.
Funny.
I remember what happened after that.
It was a very super happy ending.
End.
Well there it fucking is. Is it a fucking masterpiece or what? I loved it. And I know you all fucking loved it. The story was pretty faithful to the original don't you think? Fuck yes it was. I would like to thank Sean for giving me permission to remake his masterpiece, I of course will ask for that permission, next time I see him.
Any-fucking-way, I better go now, I hope you enjoyed blooms (Happy Edition) as much as I enjoyed ripping it off. Hurray for Copyright Laws!!!