Plot summary: In a time when the world was ruled by highly intelligent
parsley-smoking ants (see, who said smoking strange substances kills brain
cells?), an ant called Antelissa meets and falls in love with a fly who
arrived on a ship with several other fly personages.
While Antelissa and Flyan were busy getting jiggy, Antelissa's ant friends were still back on the beach smoking unusual substances, whilst attempting to play Monopoly. "Right," an ant called Anton was saying. "I rolled a three, which takes me to Oxford Street. Antrea, I believe you own Oxford Street, seeing as you are lying on the card." "No," Antrea replied distantly. "I don't own it, I'm just using the card as a beach towel." "Okay, so noone owns Oxford Street." There was a pause for several seconds as most of his friends lay there wastedly, or shuffled around playing with the sand under their feet. "Noone? Last chance to try and get rent off me, going once, going twice.." He looks around at each face patiently. "...Oh, hang on," his companion Antrew mumbled vaguely. "Yeah, I got that." "Okay," Anton replied, still patiently. "So what is that- twenty dollars or something?" "Erm, precisely twenty two million, four hundred and eighty dollars and sixty-two cents." "What? How the hell is it that much? And how the hell do you pay sixty two cents in a monopoly game?" "It's got a hotel, so that takes it up to one thousand, two hundred and seventy five dollars." "A hotel? What hotel?" "Oh, and then there's MST of twenty one million, nine hundred and ninety nine thousand, two hundred and five dollars and sixty two cents." Anton sighed. He was starting to get annoyed, and his hard black shell was going crackly and turning purple. He took a deep breath. "Okay," he said calmly. "MST. And this is..?" "My Super Tax. You know, like GST except the money goes to me, not the government. How else am I supposed to make a profit?" "I see. Of course. Makes perfect sense. If I were living in a mental institution. And where exactly is this hotel of yours?" Antrew shrugged, like it was the most obvious and normal thing in the world. "I ate it." "I see," Anton replied calmly. Muttering to himself, he added, "This is gonna be a looong day." Then he turned back to Antrew and smiled sweetly. "Tell you what, how about I just write you out an IOU." "Okay!" Antrew exclaimed enthusiastically, seemingly unaware of the stupidity of the scenario. "Right. Good." Anton sighed again, and rolled his eyes slightly. "Um, Antelia, I believe it's your turn?" "No," Antelia replied. "I can't go." "Why not?" "Because I gambled all my money away to Antrea, and I couldn't afford to cough up for it the last time, so now I'm in jail. See?" She gestured to where her playing piece was, in jail. "And where is Antrea now?" "She went to the mall, to spend her winnings." Anton nodded and sighed. "Of course. She went to spend her winnings..of monopoly money. Completely logical." Antelia nodded, in agreement that this was indeed totally logical, that indeed there was nothing unusual or even slightly insane about this fact. "Right then, who's next?" Anton inquired. "Stephant?" "Okay, righty-ho." Stephant reached over and laid his hand on the pile of 'Chance' cards. "Snap!" "Erm, no," Anton explained politely. "We're not playing Snap. This is monopoly." "Oh, yes, yes. I get it," He replied, obviously not getting it at all. "Okay then, I know, it was Colonel Mustant in the conservatory with the lead piping!" "Oh, god, kill me now," Anton murmured, glancing up helplessly at the sky. Then he turned and surveyed the surrounding area in desperation, commenting, "Is it just me or is this day going exceedingly slowly?"
Suddenly he jumped, as if a burst of electricity had shot through him and stared, eyes wide open, as he suddenly noticed the great monstrosity of a ship on the sand behind him. "How long has that been there?" he asked his fellow ants. He was answered by a chorus of shrugs and mumbles vaguely resembling, "I don't know." "Hmm." Anton got up and strode purposefully over to the ship. The others scrambled up listlessly and dragged themselves after him. Anton knocked confidently on the hatch of the ship's cabin and called out. "Good day, strangers. Welcome to the city of Antopolis. I am Anton." When he got no reply, he added gruffly, "It would be greatly appreciated if you would present yourselves to us now."
Slowly the cabin door opened and a face peered out. "Yep, whaddaya want?" The creature said. "I wish to know what it is you are doing here," Anton replied, growing ever- so-slightly irritated. The creature shrugged. "Erm..stuff? I guess? Just chillin'. What's it to you?" "You know," Anton said aggressively, "I don't like your tone. And as I am an arrogant, self-centred violent bastard with far too much testosterone and the most non-existent sense of humour since Oscar the Grouch, I will now proceed, along with my ant-like friends here, to have a fist fight with you and the other flies in this ship, for absolutely no reason other than to make a good story." Then he punched the fly in the face with one of his little tiny stick legs. Antelia ran up and pushed the fly away from the doorway, and then scrambled inside to beat up one of the other flies. "Take that, you horrible little..um..fly!" Suddenly she stopped and put her hands on her hips.or whatever the ant equivalent is.abdomen. "Hang on, hang on just one minute, cut! Cut! CUT!!" She shook her head furiously. "Okay, who the hell was the dumbass who wrote this goddamn script!? I have seen better dialogue written for Days of our Lives. I mean, for crying out loud, Sweet Valley High has a better script than this!" She glanced around her, and she spotted the director, and beckoned her over. Angrily, she waved her cluster of paper in the director's face. "What in the name of all that tastes cheesy and flavourful do you call this!?" The director shrugged, frightened. "I don't know, I can't answer you. I'm only the director, I'm not supposed to have a speaking part." "You know," Antelissa interrupted, appearing from backstage where she had been preparing for her next scene, "We could get paid a lot more if we did Coronation Street." "Yeah, screw this," Antrew agreed. "I'm not working anymore under these conditions. Let's go to McDonald's." "Yeah!" chorused the rest of the cast, as they filed out the door, leaving the backstage crew standing there helplessly. The director turned sheepishly towards the camera, and forced her mouth into a cheesy grin. "Oh my giddy ant will be right back after these messages."
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The ants and the flies were kicking the crap out of each other, (thanks to a generous pay-rise) seemingly unaware of what was going on with Antelissa and Flyan. Finally, they all collapsed back onto the ground, exhausted. "Damn," Anton observed. "Smoking really does leave you short of breath and completely unfit." "Yeah, you can say that again," agreed one of the flies, a guy called Flybert. "Not a good idea to try kicking the crap out of someone after smoking strawberry-flavoured tea bags." "Yeah," everyone sighed nostalgically. "Hang on!" Antelia cried, jumping to her feet. "Why are we agreeing with you? We're supposed to hate you! We're supposed to be enemies, the whole Montague and Capulet kinda thing." "Hey, you're right!" said one of the flies. "Piss off back to where you came from, stupid ants!" He shook his fist.um, one of his legs.at them. "You haven't seen the last of us!" Antrew called, as they trotted away.
So now as you can we have a little predicament. Antelissa and Flyan are in love, although their two species hate and despise one another. What will become of them all? Will woe befall the two besotted lovers, or will everyone give up and go off to take teabags, parsley and various other substances? Find out in the next chapter of, "Oh, my giddy ant!"
While Antelissa and Flyan were busy getting jiggy, Antelissa's ant friends were still back on the beach smoking unusual substances, whilst attempting to play Monopoly. "Right," an ant called Anton was saying. "I rolled a three, which takes me to Oxford Street. Antrea, I believe you own Oxford Street, seeing as you are lying on the card." "No," Antrea replied distantly. "I don't own it, I'm just using the card as a beach towel." "Okay, so noone owns Oxford Street." There was a pause for several seconds as most of his friends lay there wastedly, or shuffled around playing with the sand under their feet. "Noone? Last chance to try and get rent off me, going once, going twice.." He looks around at each face patiently. "...Oh, hang on," his companion Antrew mumbled vaguely. "Yeah, I got that." "Okay," Anton replied, still patiently. "So what is that- twenty dollars or something?" "Erm, precisely twenty two million, four hundred and eighty dollars and sixty-two cents." "What? How the hell is it that much? And how the hell do you pay sixty two cents in a monopoly game?" "It's got a hotel, so that takes it up to one thousand, two hundred and seventy five dollars." "A hotel? What hotel?" "Oh, and then there's MST of twenty one million, nine hundred and ninety nine thousand, two hundred and five dollars and sixty two cents." Anton sighed. He was starting to get annoyed, and his hard black shell was going crackly and turning purple. He took a deep breath. "Okay," he said calmly. "MST. And this is..?" "My Super Tax. You know, like GST except the money goes to me, not the government. How else am I supposed to make a profit?" "I see. Of course. Makes perfect sense. If I were living in a mental institution. And where exactly is this hotel of yours?" Antrew shrugged, like it was the most obvious and normal thing in the world. "I ate it." "I see," Anton replied calmly. Muttering to himself, he added, "This is gonna be a looong day." Then he turned back to Antrew and smiled sweetly. "Tell you what, how about I just write you out an IOU." "Okay!" Antrew exclaimed enthusiastically, seemingly unaware of the stupidity of the scenario. "Right. Good." Anton sighed again, and rolled his eyes slightly. "Um, Antelia, I believe it's your turn?" "No," Antelia replied. "I can't go." "Why not?" "Because I gambled all my money away to Antrea, and I couldn't afford to cough up for it the last time, so now I'm in jail. See?" She gestured to where her playing piece was, in jail. "And where is Antrea now?" "She went to the mall, to spend her winnings." Anton nodded and sighed. "Of course. She went to spend her winnings..of monopoly money. Completely logical." Antelia nodded, in agreement that this was indeed totally logical, that indeed there was nothing unusual or even slightly insane about this fact. "Right then, who's next?" Anton inquired. "Stephant?" "Okay, righty-ho." Stephant reached over and laid his hand on the pile of 'Chance' cards. "Snap!" "Erm, no," Anton explained politely. "We're not playing Snap. This is monopoly." "Oh, yes, yes. I get it," He replied, obviously not getting it at all. "Okay then, I know, it was Colonel Mustant in the conservatory with the lead piping!" "Oh, god, kill me now," Anton murmured, glancing up helplessly at the sky. Then he turned and surveyed the surrounding area in desperation, commenting, "Is it just me or is this day going exceedingly slowly?"
Suddenly he jumped, as if a burst of electricity had shot through him and stared, eyes wide open, as he suddenly noticed the great monstrosity of a ship on the sand behind him. "How long has that been there?" he asked his fellow ants. He was answered by a chorus of shrugs and mumbles vaguely resembling, "I don't know." "Hmm." Anton got up and strode purposefully over to the ship. The others scrambled up listlessly and dragged themselves after him. Anton knocked confidently on the hatch of the ship's cabin and called out. "Good day, strangers. Welcome to the city of Antopolis. I am Anton." When he got no reply, he added gruffly, "It would be greatly appreciated if you would present yourselves to us now."
Slowly the cabin door opened and a face peered out. "Yep, whaddaya want?" The creature said. "I wish to know what it is you are doing here," Anton replied, growing ever- so-slightly irritated. The creature shrugged. "Erm..stuff? I guess? Just chillin'. What's it to you?" "You know," Anton said aggressively, "I don't like your tone. And as I am an arrogant, self-centred violent bastard with far too much testosterone and the most non-existent sense of humour since Oscar the Grouch, I will now proceed, along with my ant-like friends here, to have a fist fight with you and the other flies in this ship, for absolutely no reason other than to make a good story." Then he punched the fly in the face with one of his little tiny stick legs. Antelia ran up and pushed the fly away from the doorway, and then scrambled inside to beat up one of the other flies. "Take that, you horrible little..um..fly!" Suddenly she stopped and put her hands on her hips.or whatever the ant equivalent is.abdomen. "Hang on, hang on just one minute, cut! Cut! CUT!!" She shook her head furiously. "Okay, who the hell was the dumbass who wrote this goddamn script!? I have seen better dialogue written for Days of our Lives. I mean, for crying out loud, Sweet Valley High has a better script than this!" She glanced around her, and she spotted the director, and beckoned her over. Angrily, she waved her cluster of paper in the director's face. "What in the name of all that tastes cheesy and flavourful do you call this!?" The director shrugged, frightened. "I don't know, I can't answer you. I'm only the director, I'm not supposed to have a speaking part." "You know," Antelissa interrupted, appearing from backstage where she had been preparing for her next scene, "We could get paid a lot more if we did Coronation Street." "Yeah, screw this," Antrew agreed. "I'm not working anymore under these conditions. Let's go to McDonald's." "Yeah!" chorused the rest of the cast, as they filed out the door, leaving the backstage crew standing there helplessly. The director turned sheepishly towards the camera, and forced her mouth into a cheesy grin. "Oh my giddy ant will be right back after these messages."
Do your teeth look as white as they should? Are you sick of those toothpastes that claim to whiten your teeth but really just turn them from crappy yellow to pale grey? You need new Colgate Simply Twink! The new product approved by over five hundred dentists worldwide, (most of whom are on LSD) which is guaranteed to make your teeth completely white! Just apply the white smelly liquid stuff with the brush twice a day, and then wait for it to dry! (Fine print at bottom of screen: Some users may suffer from side effects, including dry gritty teeth, an awful taste in their mouth, or poisoning resulting in death.) New Colgate Simply Twink! Try it today!
Forget working out at the gym, or walking the dog. If you want to get fit, and look good, you need the Ab-Flex. The all-purpose workout tool that will give you a body as muscular and gay-looking as Arnold Schwarzenegger! Available from The Warehouse, As seen on TV stores and all crappy department stores nationwide! Buy yours today, and get a free spoon! That's right, folks, order your Ab-Flex today for just $7,000,000 and get a free spoon! (Warning: Prolonged use of the Ab-Flex may result in a desire to speak in a dumb accent and star in excruciatingly tedious action movies)
You can brush her hair, undress her everywhere.and now you can get high with her! It's all-new Wasted Stoner Barbie®! Wasted Stoner Barbie® comes complete with dirty-looking dreadlocks, hemp clothing and her very own joint-making kit, featuring everything you need to roll your own doll-sized and life-sized joints! So never worry again about having to get stoned on your own. Now you and Barbie can become wasted stoners together! Six-year- old Cletusina Slack-Jawed-Yokel from Texas writes- "Sup my homie dog? Wasted stoner Barbie? Yeah, she's the shit, man. Me and Barbie got real high together. You wanna get high too? I'm so high, I don't know what's going on." (Pokes out her tongue and adds, "Wazzuuup!!!") So buy your very own Wasted Stoner Barbie® today! (Scary Movie Video and Afroman CD not included)
The ants and the flies were kicking the crap out of each other, (thanks to a generous pay-rise) seemingly unaware of what was going on with Antelissa and Flyan. Finally, they all collapsed back onto the ground, exhausted. "Damn," Anton observed. "Smoking really does leave you short of breath and completely unfit." "Yeah, you can say that again," agreed one of the flies, a guy called Flybert. "Not a good idea to try kicking the crap out of someone after smoking strawberry-flavoured tea bags." "Yeah," everyone sighed nostalgically. "Hang on!" Antelia cried, jumping to her feet. "Why are we agreeing with you? We're supposed to hate you! We're supposed to be enemies, the whole Montague and Capulet kinda thing." "Hey, you're right!" said one of the flies. "Piss off back to where you came from, stupid ants!" He shook his fist.um, one of his legs.at them. "You haven't seen the last of us!" Antrew called, as they trotted away.
So now as you can we have a little predicament. Antelissa and Flyan are in love, although their two species hate and despise one another. What will become of them all? Will woe befall the two besotted lovers, or will everyone give up and go off to take teabags, parsley and various other substances? Find out in the next chapter of, "Oh, my giddy ant!"