YOUR MIND TRICKS WILL NOT WORK ON ME, COLONEL SANDERS!!!!
Eheheh. Mmmmmm, chicken....
Disclaimer: Feel free to browse, but please don't carouse, hoho.
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Ickyboo and Nazbutt strode towards the edge of Stupid Hollow, pulling a recalcitrant Footpowder, to whom Katrino was tied for safekeeping.
"Go now. Take Katrino home, for the good of the city," commanded Ickyboo spectacularly, and much out of character.
"I obey," grunted Nazbutt in untypical Engrish. "Have you seen any sailors?"
As Ickyboo watched Nazbutt and Katrino move off, he reflected on the stupidity of this chapter's beginning. Surely they could come up with better stuff than this crap.
Ickyboo looked around. Over in the graveyard, he could see the silhouette of Constable Plush Bottom standing odiously at the foot of an unsuspecting grave.
"Oh, shit," acknowledged Ickyboo. "Hey! Get away from there!"
Constable Bottom gazed forlornly at Ickyboo. "They need me," he stated.
Ickyboo made a disgusted noise, and hurried to reach the Constable before he could carry out his dark mission. He stopped short at the sight of the figure of a horse appearing behind the rotund man.
Ickyboo relaxed when he saw the figure of a woman on the equine's back. Unbeknownst to Ickyboo, it was not a normal woman. It was really the Headfull Horseguy, fresh from having discovered a discarded mannequin. It was just the Horseguy's poor luck that it was an extremely feminine mannequin. The Headfull Horseguy had managed to rig up an extremely complicated, physically impossible, and generally baffling system of gears, pulleys, fishing wire, and two rolls of duct tape, all with his teeth, and during his lunch break, with which he controlled the limbs of the plastic figure, as well as those of this run-on sentence. The entire ordeal was wrapped in a skimpy cocktail dress, and might have been attractive to someone who was into mannequins with icky human heads. In cocktail dresses. Oh, yeah.
The Horsequeer raised his axe, accompanied by a symphony of creaks and groans. He--it--swung the axe in a strange curve, taking Constable Plush Bottom's head clean off. However, because of the odd angle, it gave the head a comical spin.
Constable Bottom's head spun and spun, seeming to actually gain velocity. The large, unpleasant nose gave the entire thing spectacular lift, and it zoomed off into space, adding to the mysteries of the cosmos.
Ickyboo stared numbly after it, shock filling its familiar groove in his face.
The Horsegay, displeased with his lack of enthusiasm, punched Ickyboo soundly in the face, and Ickyboo sank into the pits of unconsciousness.
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Ickyboo dreamt.
In his dream, he saw his mother once more. She hummed as she stirred the bubbling contents of the stew pot. Ickyboo had always loved the stew his mother made for him. It had some element of pure goodness that he could never describe. He had always felt at ease and at home when his mother cooked for him. He smiled happily.
Suddenly, several large men dressed in black, with the letters "FBI" plastered across their hats burst into the room. They grabbed Ickyboo's mother, and pointed accusingly at the stew pot, which they grabbed also. Ickyboo charged at them, and managed to free his mother for an instant. Images of trout flashed through his mind, and he awoke with a start.
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"Blargh!" screeched Ickyboo upon awakening, terrifying Nazbutt, who had come to steal his wallet.
"What is it, sir?" inquired Nazbutt, hiding his hands in his pockets.
"I must find the Horseguy! You are coming with me!" snapped Ickyboo.
"I'm coming too!" chattered Katrino, sporting a suspicious white blotch under her nose.
"Whatever," sighed Ickyboo.
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"Do you even know where we're going?" inquired Nazbutt. "We've been walking for hours!"
"It's been five minutes!" snapped Ickyboo. "And I know the way. Wenchy Wench gave me directions. I just have to remember them. Let's see...You seek the monkey piled with corn beef hash...no, that's not it...I talked to him yesterday...ah, yes! You seek the warrior bathed in blood, the Hessian Horseman. Follow the Indian trail to where the sun dies. Follow to the Tree of the Dead. Climb down to the Horseman's resting place."
"Are you sure? I thought he was the Horseguy, not the Horseman. Are you sure you're not mixing this up with something else?" prodded Nazbutt.
"Stop prodding me, eunuch. Your hands are cold and clammy," protested Ickyboo. "Come now. We must find the Indian trail."
"I think it's in there," put in Katrino, pointing excitedly down a gopher hole. Ickyboo slapped her, and they all set off.
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Ichabod Crane, Katrina VanTassel, and young Masbeth approached the Tree of the Dead with great trepidation. Spurred on by recent incidents, they had come to find the lair of the Headless Horseman, and stop his evil ways. Ichabod, after observing the tree, pulled a hatchet from his saddlebag.
Just then, Ickyboo Crow, Katrino VanCastle, and young Nazbutt emerged from the trees into the desolate little clearing. Katrino was the first to notice the other set of characters, and shouted out.
"Woa, it's like a living mirror!" she bellowed, moments before falling off her horse, hitting her head on a rock, and falling unconscious. Katrina realized what the crackhead had meant, and burst into tears.
Ichabod stared in absolute horror at his counterpart.
"Fishface!" he cried in a panic.
"Pitpalms!" retaliated Ickyboo.
Both of them burst into tears, rushed at each other, and engaged in a geeky slap fight.
Masbeth and Nazbutt found reasonably clean rocks, sat down on them, and started playing cards.
The Headless Horseman burst unexpectedly from the Tree of the Dead. Katrino awoke from the noise, and everyone scattered.
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Half an hour later, Ickyboo and Nazbutt had regrouped, and hunted down Katrino, who had wrapped herself around the trunk of a pine, and claimed to be the Tree Wizard. They moved on, trying to find some sign of where they should go.
"I know," said Ickyboo, "You seek the torso smelling of goats, the Limbless Goatboy. Follow the drainage ditch to where the beavers cluck. Follow to the Pen of the Damned. Run around in the Goatboy's resting place."
"I don't think that's right at all," started Nazbutt.
"Quiet, you," spat Ickyboo.
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Stickymod Clay, Katono VanHassle, and really old Spazzcut gathered in the clearing. Only a few feet in front of them, the Pen of the Damned stood, gathering dew. Its rickety fence swayed in the wind, and they simply stood, not wanting to come nearer.
Ickyboo peered through the foliage, and silently halted Nazbutt and Katrino.
"Who they hell are they?" he murmured.
"I told you it wasn't the right rhyme. Now you've gotten us trapped in a horrible running gag," muttered Nazbutt.
"Whatever," sighed Ickyboo. "We'd best go."
Just then, a goat, carrying upon its back a limbless torso, wandered bleating from the pen. The torso, unable to grip due to its lack of legs, toppled off, and its head smashed open against a rock like so much moldy pumpkin.
"Oh, blagh," commented Ickyboo. "If that wasn't a poorly orchestrated plea for attention, I don't know what is."
With that, the trio left, depressed that the authors obviously had found their way out of that mud puddle.
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Ickyboo suddenly sat up straight in his saddle on Footpowder's back. Footpowder honked indignantly, and let loose the thirty-seventh cloud of the day.
Ickyboo smiled and grimaced at the same time. He had found Wenchy's house again! Surely she would be willing to repeat the verse!
On the door was a note. It read:
"You seek the psycho sprinkled with wood chips, the Headfull Horseguy. Follow the possum trail to where the wolf shits. Follow to the Outhouse of Doom. Climb in to the Horseguy's resting place.
Dumbass."
Following the note's instructions, they finally reached their destination, the Outhouse of Doom. Like it had been told in the stories, it stood as a great monolith, the crescent moon glowing eerily.
"Finally," whined Nazbutt.
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Sorry it's been so long since the last update. Things will actually happen next chapter. You know...things that are relevant.
Eheheh. Mmmmmm, chicken....
Disclaimer: Feel free to browse, but please don't carouse, hoho.
######################################################################## ########################################################################
Ickyboo and Nazbutt strode towards the edge of Stupid Hollow, pulling a recalcitrant Footpowder, to whom Katrino was tied for safekeeping.
"Go now. Take Katrino home, for the good of the city," commanded Ickyboo spectacularly, and much out of character.
"I obey," grunted Nazbutt in untypical Engrish. "Have you seen any sailors?"
As Ickyboo watched Nazbutt and Katrino move off, he reflected on the stupidity of this chapter's beginning. Surely they could come up with better stuff than this crap.
Ickyboo looked around. Over in the graveyard, he could see the silhouette of Constable Plush Bottom standing odiously at the foot of an unsuspecting grave.
"Oh, shit," acknowledged Ickyboo. "Hey! Get away from there!"
Constable Bottom gazed forlornly at Ickyboo. "They need me," he stated.
Ickyboo made a disgusted noise, and hurried to reach the Constable before he could carry out his dark mission. He stopped short at the sight of the figure of a horse appearing behind the rotund man.
Ickyboo relaxed when he saw the figure of a woman on the equine's back. Unbeknownst to Ickyboo, it was not a normal woman. It was really the Headfull Horseguy, fresh from having discovered a discarded mannequin. It was just the Horseguy's poor luck that it was an extremely feminine mannequin. The Headfull Horseguy had managed to rig up an extremely complicated, physically impossible, and generally baffling system of gears, pulleys, fishing wire, and two rolls of duct tape, all with his teeth, and during his lunch break, with which he controlled the limbs of the plastic figure, as well as those of this run-on sentence. The entire ordeal was wrapped in a skimpy cocktail dress, and might have been attractive to someone who was into mannequins with icky human heads. In cocktail dresses. Oh, yeah.
The Horsequeer raised his axe, accompanied by a symphony of creaks and groans. He--it--swung the axe in a strange curve, taking Constable Plush Bottom's head clean off. However, because of the odd angle, it gave the head a comical spin.
Constable Bottom's head spun and spun, seeming to actually gain velocity. The large, unpleasant nose gave the entire thing spectacular lift, and it zoomed off into space, adding to the mysteries of the cosmos.
Ickyboo stared numbly after it, shock filling its familiar groove in his face.
The Horsegay, displeased with his lack of enthusiasm, punched Ickyboo soundly in the face, and Ickyboo sank into the pits of unconsciousness.
######################################################################
Ickyboo dreamt.
In his dream, he saw his mother once more. She hummed as she stirred the bubbling contents of the stew pot. Ickyboo had always loved the stew his mother made for him. It had some element of pure goodness that he could never describe. He had always felt at ease and at home when his mother cooked for him. He smiled happily.
Suddenly, several large men dressed in black, with the letters "FBI" plastered across their hats burst into the room. They grabbed Ickyboo's mother, and pointed accusingly at the stew pot, which they grabbed also. Ickyboo charged at them, and managed to free his mother for an instant. Images of trout flashed through his mind, and he awoke with a start.
####################################################################
"Blargh!" screeched Ickyboo upon awakening, terrifying Nazbutt, who had come to steal his wallet.
"What is it, sir?" inquired Nazbutt, hiding his hands in his pockets.
"I must find the Horseguy! You are coming with me!" snapped Ickyboo.
"I'm coming too!" chattered Katrino, sporting a suspicious white blotch under her nose.
"Whatever," sighed Ickyboo.
#######################################################################
"Do you even know where we're going?" inquired Nazbutt. "We've been walking for hours!"
"It's been five minutes!" snapped Ickyboo. "And I know the way. Wenchy Wench gave me directions. I just have to remember them. Let's see...You seek the monkey piled with corn beef hash...no, that's not it...I talked to him yesterday...ah, yes! You seek the warrior bathed in blood, the Hessian Horseman. Follow the Indian trail to where the sun dies. Follow to the Tree of the Dead. Climb down to the Horseman's resting place."
"Are you sure? I thought he was the Horseguy, not the Horseman. Are you sure you're not mixing this up with something else?" prodded Nazbutt.
"Stop prodding me, eunuch. Your hands are cold and clammy," protested Ickyboo. "Come now. We must find the Indian trail."
"I think it's in there," put in Katrino, pointing excitedly down a gopher hole. Ickyboo slapped her, and they all set off.
####################################################################
Ichabod Crane, Katrina VanTassel, and young Masbeth approached the Tree of the Dead with great trepidation. Spurred on by recent incidents, they had come to find the lair of the Headless Horseman, and stop his evil ways. Ichabod, after observing the tree, pulled a hatchet from his saddlebag.
Just then, Ickyboo Crow, Katrino VanCastle, and young Nazbutt emerged from the trees into the desolate little clearing. Katrino was the first to notice the other set of characters, and shouted out.
"Woa, it's like a living mirror!" she bellowed, moments before falling off her horse, hitting her head on a rock, and falling unconscious. Katrina realized what the crackhead had meant, and burst into tears.
Ichabod stared in absolute horror at his counterpart.
"Fishface!" he cried in a panic.
"Pitpalms!" retaliated Ickyboo.
Both of them burst into tears, rushed at each other, and engaged in a geeky slap fight.
Masbeth and Nazbutt found reasonably clean rocks, sat down on them, and started playing cards.
The Headless Horseman burst unexpectedly from the Tree of the Dead. Katrino awoke from the noise, and everyone scattered.
#####################################################################
Half an hour later, Ickyboo and Nazbutt had regrouped, and hunted down Katrino, who had wrapped herself around the trunk of a pine, and claimed to be the Tree Wizard. They moved on, trying to find some sign of where they should go.
"I know," said Ickyboo, "You seek the torso smelling of goats, the Limbless Goatboy. Follow the drainage ditch to where the beavers cluck. Follow to the Pen of the Damned. Run around in the Goatboy's resting place."
"I don't think that's right at all," started Nazbutt.
"Quiet, you," spat Ickyboo.
####################################################################
Stickymod Clay, Katono VanHassle, and really old Spazzcut gathered in the clearing. Only a few feet in front of them, the Pen of the Damned stood, gathering dew. Its rickety fence swayed in the wind, and they simply stood, not wanting to come nearer.
Ickyboo peered through the foliage, and silently halted Nazbutt and Katrino.
"Who they hell are they?" he murmured.
"I told you it wasn't the right rhyme. Now you've gotten us trapped in a horrible running gag," muttered Nazbutt.
"Whatever," sighed Ickyboo. "We'd best go."
Just then, a goat, carrying upon its back a limbless torso, wandered bleating from the pen. The torso, unable to grip due to its lack of legs, toppled off, and its head smashed open against a rock like so much moldy pumpkin.
"Oh, blagh," commented Ickyboo. "If that wasn't a poorly orchestrated plea for attention, I don't know what is."
With that, the trio left, depressed that the authors obviously had found their way out of that mud puddle.
###################################################################
Ickyboo suddenly sat up straight in his saddle on Footpowder's back. Footpowder honked indignantly, and let loose the thirty-seventh cloud of the day.
Ickyboo smiled and grimaced at the same time. He had found Wenchy's house again! Surely she would be willing to repeat the verse!
On the door was a note. It read:
"You seek the psycho sprinkled with wood chips, the Headfull Horseguy. Follow the possum trail to where the wolf shits. Follow to the Outhouse of Doom. Climb in to the Horseguy's resting place.
Dumbass."
Following the note's instructions, they finally reached their destination, the Outhouse of Doom. Like it had been told in the stories, it stood as a great monolith, the crescent moon glowing eerily.
"Finally," whined Nazbutt.
################################################################## ##################################################################
Sorry it's been so long since the last update. Things will actually happen next chapter. You know...things that are relevant.