"Have you seen a weasel around here?" He asked breathlessly. "He's about a foot high, with pink eyes and--"
"There's no weasel here. Who're you?" Demanded Hairy.
"Juan. Juan Wememl." He extended his hand in friendly invitation. Hairy studied the boy. He looked about Hairy's age, with twitching, fat, almond eyes and glistening brown skin. He wore a faded blue cape around his shoulders, a pair of pin-striped trousers, and a newsboy cap with an ostrich feather stuck in the left side.
Hairy accepted the hand at last. It felt moist and bloated in his own.
"Hmmm... pleased to meet you Juan. I suppose. Why're you going to Moldywart's?"
Abdul-Azim seized this heartwarming moment to humbly bow himself out of the compartment. He wanted to get an early claim on Hairy's luggage in the baggage cart.
"I'm a compulsive stealer." He grunted. "You see, I take things all the time. Got caught. Parents were mad. They made me come. You?"
"I am a prince," stated Hairy, puffing up considerabley.
"So'm I!" retorted Juan, with indignation.
This shut Hairy up immediately. He quickly changed tactics.
"What's your stupid weasel's name?"
"He's not stupid!" cried Juan, looking hurt. "And his name is Schnuffles."
Juan sat down on the seat across from Hairy and stared sulkily at the floor. Hairy picked nervously at a loose crimson thread.
The compartment doors opened again, this time revealing a lovely girl holding a large, white, and very ugly rodent in her arms.
She addressed Juan, "Were you the one looking for a weasel? I found him under my seat. I hope you know he ate all the fizzing hizbees in my bag."
Indeed, as she spoke the weasel gave a mighty hiccup and several pink bubbles erupted from the end of its long, pointy nose and floated lazily about the car.
"Ew," Said Hairy. "That's gross."
"What makes you so special?" snapped the girl, turning on Hairy rather rudely. Her cheeks flushed rosily and her tight blonde curls frizzed with acrimony.
"I am a prince." He puffed up like a bullfrog.
"So?"
"Well, I own three chickens." he said quickly, and then added as an afterthought, "They're magical."
"Your pants are ridiculous." she said coldly, and turned to Juan again.
"Here's your weasel. Keep an eye on him, will you? I don't want him to go around eating my stuff anymore! I'm Germiona Greindzher, by the way."
She gently put Schnuffles into his arms. Juan was looking a little shifty eyed, and his face was extremely shiny at this point. We cannot tell if this is because of the heat, Germiona's beauty, or because of the gold bracelet on her wrist.
"Germiona Greindzher?" piped up Hairy from the corner, wanting to be introduced. "What kind of name is that?"
"And what's your name? I don't suppose it's any better. Oh, but I forgot! You're a prince-- with chickens! Ha!"
Hairy pinked and sunk deeper into his pillows.
"That sure is a dumb looking weasel." He replied, in an unpretentious and obliging tone.
Abdul-azim re-appeared at this awkward hiatus to announce to the passengers:
"Master, gentleman, and lady," (pause for a wheezing breath) "We have arrived at Moldywart's School! Huzz, huzz... you're to get your bags and exit the train immediately. Right this way, Prince Hairy...."
The procession exited the car in a rather disgruntled queue, Juan bringing up the rear with Schnuffles in tow.
On the platform Hairy, Juan, and Germiona could see Moldywart's. It was a great black beast of a building.
.........................................................................................................................................................................
Visit us next time in...
Hairy gets a Hangover
or
Juan's Revenge: an Introduction to the Amazing Purple Sock of Power....
37 comments:
I'm glad that you continued the story of Hiary Blopper it was highly entertaining. I really look foreward to Hairy's Hangover. I can't wait to read more.
very swell. Keep it up! :)
(after second time reading it)...genius.
I'm glad you liked Candide! It is highly amusing! (No, I haven't finished it yet...) I think the part that has made me laugh the hardest is about the lady with one (butt) cheek. Genius.
"Cut just one buttock off each of these ladies," he siad, "and that will provide you with a delicious meal; if you find you need more, you can have as much again in a few days' time."
Oh Natalie... why, oh why does a brilliant satirist like Voltaire have to be the one to come up with these things? Why can't I?
I want to hear about the two penguins flying around on that "magic" carpet, that you drew along with Hairy and his little green man. I'm sure they are naughty and mischievious little penguins.
Well, my friend, you can't come up with those sayings, but I'm sure you have plenty of wit to come up with others, possibly better than Voltaire!
I wonder what it'd be like to carry on a conversation with Voltaire? Next time an English teacher asks me to write an essay on who I would like to have a conversation with (living or dead) and why, I will say Voltaire. (In the past, I've said Mark Twain and Charles Dickens...)
I think in fourth grade I said George Washington.
There was a boy named Hairy.
He was very hairy.
He flew to France,
Wet his pants,
Now he looks scary.
(Original? Nope, here's my orignal. [Written in sixth grade, and I still remember it. Sorry for any flaws...it's supposed to be a limerick...]
There was a girl named Mary.
She was very hairy.
She flew to France,
Wet her pants,
Now she looks scary.
The other limerick I remember writing in sixth grade:
There was a turtle named Sam.
He liked to eat spam.
He swam real hard,
Ran into a bard,
To impress a gal named Pam.
Hey, have you ever read The Little Prince?
My goal is to get possibly 50 comments on this post. (If I don't, this was just practice.)
A is for apple. Apples will always remind me of Pippin, my favorite character in the LOTR.
B is for brown. I love brown sugar, which I'm currently eating, sprinkled on oatmeal.
C is for cow. Cows are very interesting. I love trying to imitate their moo to intimidate them. (I always accidentally use imitate for intimidate, and vice versa. For example, when I'm trying to say, "I imitate you." I say, "I intimidate you." And everyone is confused or intimidated.)
D is for doggone. What did the indian say when his dog was hit by lightning? "Doggone!"
E is for...(looking for a random "E" word...)uh...Electric outlet. I knew a guy that stuck a fork, not once, but twice, in an electric outlet!
F is for feelings. I offend them too easily sometimes. Or are they just easily offended? Like I'm sure if I quoted Voltaire to certain people, they'd walk off with a huffy offended air.
G is for giraffe. The most bizarre animal ever. I've often been puzzled by trying to figure out how they sleep. Do they lay down, with their neck up, lay down with their neck down on the ground, or do they sleep standing up, or none of the above, such as sleeping upside down in a tree?
H is for hills. They can be most definitely deadly, even if it's only a 5% grade. The key that kills? Momentum.
I is for inchworm. Exactly how did they get such a name? Were the people who made up our ridiculous way of measuring (inches, feet, mile, etc.), use an inchworm as a standard? (Sorry, I like the metric system more. makes much more sense, and is easier.)
J is for jewlery. Whoever thought that hanging shiny stuff on yourself is cool, and started it, I just don't understand. I'm sorry. Sometimes I'm afraid that a necklace I'm wearing is in fact a snake, or that my earrings are going to end up like my sister's. (Her earring disappeared, but she found it, lodged in the middle of her ear, and the front of the earring [which was big, mind you] came out of the back of her ear.
K is for kangaroo.
They are so cool, I can't explain. "What do you get when you cross a kangaroo with an elephant?" "Holes all over Australia!"
Not that the joke above had anything to do with why I think kangaroos are cool...
L is for lick. That is such a weird and hard action. For example, when you are trying to lick the batter of a cake you made, you have to stick out your tongue, scrape it against something, and you have to work hard to keep the substance on your tongue on its trip back into the collapsing cave of a mouth.
M is for mugs. I love mugs! Don't ask me why...I think it's something to do with the thickness of the cup, and the perfect shape of the handle, and the memories of drinking hot chocolate on a frigid evening.
N is for newts. I will never forget that moment in the story of Matilda I love Roald Dahl. He is another of my favorite writers, even though his works were for kids. I also love his book boy, tells stories of his childhood, and no wonder where his fantastic ideas came from!
O is for ostrich. They are the coolest birds ever! They look like some evolved feathered form of a dinosaur, and they always scared me as a kid, when you were in the same pen as them...They seemed (and are) so tall.
P is for penny. With the inflation rising so, I'm afraid that when we're old coots, even a twenty won't be worth much, but we'll act like it is...like our grandparents act with a nickel or a dime.
Q is for quilt. My ambitious mom sews one of these for every girl she had in YW who is getting married. I get to help tie it. Joy.
R is for rascal. A title I hope to achieve before the age of 19.
S is for seals. Sure, every cartoon of a seal is showing them playing around with a ball. I go to see them...what lazy beasts! They have sharp intimidating teeth, and they look like logs on the sand.
T is for time. I wish we Americans didn't keep time as we do...we always seem to be behind. Why can't we be like other cultures, where when you get there, is when you get there...or eating breakfast (dinner, lunch) doesn't have a time limit on it. Or...et cetera, et cetera, et cetera!
U is for umbrella. In Utah, who needs an umbrella??? We like to be in the rain, let alone actually having some rain!
V is for...what else? VOLTAIRE! An absolute genius who likes to make fun of situations, and of people who disagreed with him...(Some of the names in Candide suggest some people he actually associated with or disliked...)
Oh... my...goodness!
That sure is a lot of comments!
I would love to talk to Voltaire too, and Charles Dickens, and Mark Twain. But I think they would intimidate me more than a little. Not 'imitate', intimidate.
Now I will write a limerick for you:
There once was a girl named Nat,
Who lived in a great big vat
One day she fell down,
And that made her frown,
But luckily her brain did not splat.
I don't know if that's the correct way to write a limerick. I don't think I've ever written one before.
I have read the Little Prince. Twice on the same day, in fact, and cried very hard both times.
You are a rascal! I do love you though.
Post a Comment