Santa’s little helper:
Stumpy McMuffin was a keener even by Uber-high Elf standards. He made sure that every toy that he built was ‘top notch;’ a perfect copy that every little boy and girl would love to own on Christmas Day! His defective to present ratio was next to zero, as the toys that he produced never failed. Stumpy was a toy making machine.
This year though, the ‘Big Guy’ had sent down word that the ‘old school’ Christmas standards, like blocks, jack in the boxes, and rocking horses were passe nowadays. Kids wanted fancy, expensive toys nowadays that the mega corporations produced. Unfortunately, Santa had suffered a bad year on the stock market and that’s when Santa’s Elf’s were ordered to make copies of the new Lego sets, Transformers, Barbie’s and PlayStation games.
Then one frosty morning, on Christmas Eve, when Stumpy and the gang were in the final stretch, the door to the warehouse was kicked in! Shouting filled the air and lights flashed. It was the Feds! Apparently Santa had been accused of intellectual property theft! Stumpy and the gang were charged with toy counterfeiting and sent to prison.
That was the day the underground criminal organization known as ‘The Elf Gang’ was born. Stumpy McMuffin became their legendary leader. The corporations of the world would soon regret earning Santas wrath!!
Pirate cats of Penzance:
The Pirate cats of Penzance were on the hunt for bountiful booty! Cans and cans of prime tuna booty were buried somewhere in the landlubber lands of Western Caterwall. Luckily, Captain Peaches and First Mate Cheeto had a fine treasure map to set them right to find it!
They had won the lovely map off of a scrawny rascal of a tabby cat named Captain Jolly Whiskers. There was a weekly game of poker in the back room of the Red Rat tavern that only pirate ships captains were invited to. Now that Captain Peaches had the priceless map in hand, all they needed was a scurvy crew and soon their ship, ‘Peachy Keen,’ would set sail for the treasure. They soon would have a treasure trove of all of the shiny, silver cans of tuna that a ruddy cat could ever eat!
Bat Robin:
Bat Robin? Robin Bat? Maybe just plain Robin would do, Melvin the bat pondered as he hung upside down from a tree branch. Whatever he decided to call himself, he was a superhero and he was on the prowl to catch some bad guys.
His Grandma had made his costume for him. She never even asked a single question about it; she just went to work and it fit like a glove. But maybe he shouldn’t have eaten so much spaghetti and fruit flies before he went on patrol? Hanging upside down alway gave Bat Robin indigestion, but Grandmas cooking was hard to turn down. Sometimes being a superhero was hard . . .
A nutty Dream:
Nuts. It’s all Nigella the squirrel ever dreamed about. She would dream about delicious, fatty, tree nuts falling from the sky as if in slow motion, rotating gently as they fell. Big ones, small ones, hazel nuts, acorns, walnuts, peanuts, it didn’t matter, all of them were good when you were famished and it was too frosty to go outside for dinner. When you spent the entire spring, summer and fall diligently collecting food to survive the long, hard winter, you became a little obsessive.
Nigella would have lovely winter in her soft, cozy nest within her favourite oak tree. She had prepared well and it was time for a well deserved holiday. Now if only her dreams would let her rest; she had certainly earned it!
Owl radio:
Chicks love to dance! That’s what Crosley the Radio owl knew. Every day around noon, she would sit on her stump and crank up her old school tunes. As if on cue, scads of little chicks would come running from everywhere in the forest to her impromptu sock hop and dance it up.
Crosley and her vintage radio were a big hit, that is, until her batteries started to run down! She might have to implement a cover charge for each chick to pay for her batteries! Double A’s weren’t cheap you know!
Honey mustard pretzel worms:
Who doesn’t love Honey Mustard Pretzel Worms from Wormco?
No one, that’s who! Everyone above ground loves to snack on healthy baked, all natural, artisanal worms carefully tied into fun pretzel shapes and sprinkled with Mediterranean sea salt! Sounds delicious and nutritious right? You better believe it buster!
How about if we dipped those fun, tasty worm shapes into a sweet and spicy, savoury, honey mustard sauce so delicious that you would slap your mama and your grandmama! Get yours today at your friendly, local grocery store before your neighbour buys them all! And everyone on the block knows that old Mrs Snicklefritz doesn’t share!
‘Sugar and Social Media Coma:’
Another boring day at the office! Doctor Blorg was on brain duty again. He was at Sugar Rush, the local human coffee and doughnut shop. The ape people liked to congregate at this establishment while they ingested copious amounts of bean juice and gorged on round, sugar coated food with holes in them. They would silently sip their black juice and stare mindlessly at their portable phone screens.
Surprisingly enough, everyone was so completely engrossed with their black mirscreens that they never seemed to notice Doctor Blorg. He would quietly nip off the top of one of their skulls with his laser scalpel while they played ‘League of Legumes,’ Clashy Royal, ‘Call of Duddly,’ or something called ‘Plokemon.’ It was ridiculously easy.
Once Doctor Blorg had enough samples of their brain fluid, he would be able to come up with the perfect new app. It would be targeted directly at the sad, little humans deepest desires. Doctor Blorg had quite the little programming gig on the side. His new app would be called ‘Blorg’s Brain Drain,’ or maybe ‘Blorgle,’ . . . ah, how about ‘Instablorg?!’
Old Sparky:
Frankie Two Bolts sparked up his lighter, ‘Old Sparky’ and lit up a dart. He used to smoke Franklin Extra Cools with Mint, but his new favourite was dynamite with extra TNT. His gang was making a move on old Drac’s territory and it was time to make a scene. The blood suckers had been making a move on Frankie’s crew and it was time for payback. When you were the reanimated dead, nobody could suck your blood, unless they like it congealed. Drac’s crew had tried anyway.
After Frankie Two Bolts blew a gaping hole in the crypt, their goons would have an unexpected wake-up call! The sun was coming up soon and everyone knew that vampires hated sunburns. The sun began to rise, spreading its bright, orange rays down upon the filthy, blood soaked, city streets of New Transylvania. Frankie Two Bolts lit up another TNT dart and prepared to toss it into the Vamps flop house. It would be one hell of a rude awakening!
The Trojan Chicken:
The Trojan Chicken was ready! It had been constructed with great haste, filled full of heavily-armed Spartan, Egg Hoplites and rolled to the massive gates of the long besieged city of Troy. Unexpectedly, the Spartan Egg army had withdrawn, leaving their ‘gift’ behind. Marching back to their fleet of ships, it seemed as if they have given up and sailed home.
At midnight the mighty chicken’s hatch would open and fierce Spartan Hoplites would be laid! The foolish Trojan Foxes has wheeled the great wooden chicken into their fortress, not knowing that it would be their downfall. Once the gates were unlocked, the entire Egg army would attack and finally take the fortified city after countless attempts. Tonight, the Trojans Foxes would find out the new meaning of ‘sly as a fox,’ and it was spelled e-g-g!
Leonardo, are you in there?!;
Hmmm . . . Doc Frankenstein knew he had forgotten something. When he had been drawing up the schematics for his reanimation project, he had been planning to use the brain of the local ditch-digger, Bubba, as the test brain. After all of the kinks had been ironed out, he was going to switch it out for the pristine Leonardo Da Vinci brain.
It had been a very difficult process to get that Cerebrum. It would be catastrophic to the entire world if that beautiful brain was wasted! Igor had to go above and beyond his skill set to acquire it and he was recovering from his labours. Hopefully his back would be all right.
Unfortunately, Igor had forgotten to remind him to retransplant the correct brain when reanimating the host body! Hopefully this wouldn’t be a problem . . .
STSV: Snapping Turtle Samurai Vikings:
The morning birds trilled, the gentle breeze tickled the delicate branches of the lush vegetation, the early morning sun dappled the newly deposited dew and he waited. Lars Nobunaga was on a mission. He had been spying on a Ronin Crocodile encampment just outside the forest. The local villagers had warned him of the mercenary bandits that had pillaged the nearby villages. They had floated up the river and created havoc.
Lars Nobunaga blood boiled and his axe hummed like a disturbed bee hive, ready for battle. The Samurai Viking was supposed to wait for his men to arrive, and the plan was for them to attack at dawn while the crocs were still hung over from too much sake mead.
But waiting for reinforcements was for cowards. Blood and honour was all Lars lived for and Ronin were scum. They did taste good though; all the more for Lars Nobunaga!
Air Jordan’s Nest:
The urban life wasn’t for the birds; it was for the cool kinda birds. The music, the fashion, the ethnic foods, the hustle and bustle lifestyle; it was what made life really worth living. What bird in his right mind would want to live in the sleepy, boring, old countryside, when the vibrant, colourful city was beckoning?!
Who would want to live in a smelly old nest with a view of a cow paddy filled field; probably a seagull! The good life was nesting in a sweet pair of authentic Air Jordan 1’s swinging above the glowing, happening city! It was a bird brained, no brainer of course!