Cooked wrist update, and mini-novel #1
Wednesday, Nov. 05, 2014 - 19:52

Boy howdy I sure burned my wrist. I am kind of surprised my hand is still attached, nearly steamed that sucker clean off.

But let's get to business. I haven't yet written a mini-novel and it's already the fifth of November! So let's do this right now. This will be a story about me and the puppy (with our names changed to protect our identities).

Mini-novel #1: The Wrath of Khan

One rainy afternoon, Regina Toowomba and her homedog, Spot, were walking up the alley to the park. Spot had just finished taking a poo when he heard a small squeaking sound coming from a nearby tree. Spot ran over to the tree excitedly, thinking it was a squirrel.

It wasn't.

It was the ghost of a squirrel.

And it was this ghost squirrel's unlucky day, because Regina and Spot had just completed an online certificate of accomplishment in ghost eradication.

Spot, who is a very smart and capable dog, began distracting the ghost squirrel by jumping at the tree and whining. Meanwhile, Regina crept behind a pile of garbage cans and took her new ghost bazooka from her backpack.

The ghost squirrel clicked and clacked at Spot. Spot jumped and lunged, whining and barking.

Then the squirrel spoke. "I shall damn this entire neighborhood to hell," he said, shaking his tiny fist. "After I recite this poem, written by the great ghost squirrel Muhezelbub, this neighborhood will burst into flames and sink into a great sinkhole, which goes straight down into the bowels of hell."

The ghost squirrel laughed an awful laugh. He took out a ghost parchment and began reciting the poem. The poem was written in an ancient squirrel language and spoken at such a high pitch that it was audible only to Spot, who fell to the ground and writhed in agony.

Regina positioned her bazooka, took aim, and fired. The ghost squirrel exploded into a million pieces, which all quickly evaporated. Spot got off the ground. He ran up to Regina and wagged his tail.

Regina took a poo bag from her pocket and cleaned up the dog poo, which by then had cooled off so it was no longer the temperature of the inside of a dog. It was still mushy, though, and Regina cough-barfed about it.

"Let's go home, Spot," Regina said.

The end.