Tuesday, October 31, 2006
All Howl, It's Halloween
Happy Halloween, everyone. It's beginning to look a lot like All Hallows Eve here. The sky is darkening, clouds are rolling in, and a brisk breeze is kicking around the fallen leaves. The trick-or-treaters will be out soon. We don't get a lot in our neighborhood any more; the kids all seem to go to parties and other organized activities instead of taking to the streets. I'm ready for any little goblins who venture out, though. And if they don't come, that means more candy for me to eat.
We have one more chilling tale of bloody, mangled Words Gone Wild before we return them to the everyday world of plain old Twisted Linguistics. Here's what we have to work with today:
And here's the Storytime With Twisted Linguistics which evolved from them:
PLAN FOR 9 FROM OUTER SPACE
Not that long ago, in a land pretty far away, an aranged marriag took place between the princess of a lesser planet (well, in truth it had been relegated to dwarf planet status) and the dipstick Dictating Despot of the K.C. Sunshine Galaxy. His name was Misour-9. When he overthrew the former dancing king who had ruled the galaxy with rhythm and beat, he stopped the music, confiscated all the mirror balls, and imposed ultimatit tnney on the entire universe. Mean Misour-9 broke the hearts and the spirits of dancing fools in all corners of the galaxy.
People were hungrey for liberty and white polyester suits, and so they staged a revolt to free Misour's browbeaten and dance-deprived wife, Princess Teree. They knew that she had good connections who would help the cause if they helped her. So they did. And Teree was grateful and came through as had been hoped for.
Her first course of action was to cause to be built a huge prymaid. Its function was to serve as a landmark for the ships Teree summoned from her home planet, Coleugu. What Teree didn't know was that Coleugu had in the time since her marriag been overrun by the Mumblengs. The Mumblengs were, well, a strange people, the descendants of a long lost race of beings called Village People. Teree and her troops knew they had a problem on their hands when the Mumblengs showed up blaring their theam soneg, "YMCA," at warp volume. The element of surprise was lost and Misour 9 showed up, plenty pissed, to see what all the commotion was.
The head Mumbleng, however, had a plan. Dressed in full battle regalia, consisting of leather chaps, cowboy boots, plaid shirt and a feather headdress, complemented by colorful face paint and some heavy bling, the Mumbleng king cranked up "Macho Man" and marched up to Misour and smacked him in the face. Misour was so shocked, because no one had ever dared to touch him before, that he dropped to his knees.
At that point, the rest of the Mumbleng troops (none over three feet tall), enervated by the music, rushed in and began to dance, gyrating wildly to long suppressed tunes. Misour-9 was caught in the resultant stampede and was ground squarely into the dirt. 9-squared is, of course, 81 and that's exactly how long it took to restore rhythm to the galaxy -- 81 minutes.
There was thereafter a steady beat and some fancy footwork in the land and Queen Teree, hoping to lay to rest the ghoasts of tnneny forever, turned the Great Prymaid over to her subjects, which now included a host of Mumblengs, for use as a disco. It turned out that Night Fever is how you can mend a broken heart.