Fuzzy Princess Mashpo There I was celebrating Tallulah's birthday (somewhere between 30 and 60, she tells me - not entirely sure), when I started coming over all vague myself.
I was in the darkness of the void!
Imagine if you will your brain a planet of the outer space. A outer space unexplored place by man or mankind. Floating free in the universe, and me - Captain Thruster Derrig - scooting round the space of universe on my deep-dark probe-engine.
There I am, picking up unmistakeable signs of life on my lifesignometer that are emanating in rays coming up from the outer space planet as I circumspatialise it. I have no alternative as an explorer but to go down and check out this signal.
No, bear with me.
I land in world of anthropomorphised foodstuffs. Vanilla pods troop about disconsolately. Cherries hang about in gangs muttering. Celery slinks by.
I explore around a bit.
Then - hellzapoppin' - I am confronted by the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and she is urgently desirous of hot bodily functioning on my behalf.
But - and it's a big but this but - she is formed entirely of mashpo. She is, in fact the Princess Mashpo of he Mashpo People of the outer space place planet.
Although gorgeous beyond compare - sorry Twins Of Evil - I can do nothing but turn away nauseated as she seeks to inveigle me into her doings. (Being as she is made of that devilish nun-originated concoction.)
"No!" I cry and rush away, leaving her distraught.
I climb aboard my machine and thrust off, curiously invigorated. The sky goes different colours and I am magnetic. Like a big magnet.
I am magnetised all over and end up rushing toward the sun of this misbegotten solar system, my feet melting into my shoes like deep-fried brie in socks.
"Aaaaaargh!" I scream.
"Arrrrrrghhh!" I scream again before suddenly coming to in an entirely unexplained way in a ghastly slimy pool of my own in the garden with the most searing sunburn on my already too-pinky skin.
And that's why I swore off doing drugs with Tallulah.
Happy birthday, Tallulah!
2 comments:
One of you really needs to get a life.
btw – have you asked Tellulah how the 69 Steps were?
I've got a perfectly good life - save you keep popping up in it.
I cannot ask Tallulah about the second matter you raise. The last bloke who did so came to a sticky end - took some hot lead between the wings. I'm not risking it.
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