It all started when our over-heralded star, Blake, woke up in a magical cornfield. It was the eighth time it had happened. Feeling abundantly worried, Blake groped a banana, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). Before anyone could take off their pants, he realized that his beloved Phone was missing! Immediately he called his lover, Priscilla. Blake had known Priscilla for (plus or minus) 61 years, the majority of which were flamboyant ones. Priscilla was unique. She was ingenious though sometimes a little... pestering. Blake called her anyway, for the situation was urgent. Priscilla picked up to a very nervous Blake. Priscilla calmly assured him that most Indonesian devil cats yawn before mating, yet spotted wolf hamsters usually surreptitiously yawn *after* mating. She had no idea what that meant; she was only concerned with distracting Blake. Why was Priscilla trying to distract Blake? Because she had snuck out from Blake's with the Phone only eight days prior. It was a striking little Phone... how could she resist? It didn't take long before Blake got back to the subject at hand: his Phone. Priscilla yawned. Relunctantly, Priscilla invited him over, assuring him they'd find the Phone. Blake grabbed his canoe and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Priscilla realized that she was in trouble. She had to find a place to hide the Phone and she had to do it deftly. She figured that if Blake took the best-in-its-so-called-'class' sedan, she had take at least three minutes before Blake would get there. But if he took the Nissan? Then Priscilla would be ridiculously screwed. Before she could come up with any reasonable ideas, Priscilla was interrupted by eight clueless Squirrels that were lured by her Phone. Priscilla panicked; 'Not again', she thought. Feeling concerned, she skillfully reached for her dull pencil and aptly deflowered every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent--the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the lemur-infested moor, squealing with discontent. She exhaled with relief. That's when she heard the Nissan rolling up. It was Blake. ----o0o---- As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at Wal-Mart to pick up a 12-pack of live hand grenades, so he knew he was running late. With a deft leap, Blake was out of the Nissan and went exotically jaunting toward Priscilla's front door. Meanwhile inside, Priscilla was panicking. Not thinking, she tossed the Phone into a box of live hand grenades and then slid the box behind her hippopotamus. Priscilla was exasperated but at least the Phone was concealed. The doorbell rang. 'Come in,' Priscilla flamboyantly purred. With a inept push, Blake opened the door. 'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some clueless beer-sloshed tool in a Jap Trap,' he lied. 'It's fine,' Priscilla assured him. Blake took a seat just under where Priscilla had hidden the Phone. Priscilla belched trying unsuccessfully to hide her nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' she blurted. But Blake was distracted. Suddenly inspired by the wise teachings of Confuscious, Priscilla noticed a pestering look on Blake's face. Blake slowly opened his mouth to speak. '...What's that smell?' Priscilla felt a stabbing pain in her taint when Blake asked this. In a moment of disbelief, she realized that she had hidden the Phone right by her oscillating fan. 'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie. A annoying look started to form on Blake's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place. 'Th-th-those are just my grandma's dangerous oil-soaked rags from when she used to have pet South American hissing sloths. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'. Blake nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before Priscilla could react, Blake randomly lunged toward the box and opened it. The Phone was plainly in view. Blake stared at Priscilla for what what must've been seven minutes. In a tragically predictable turn of events, Priscilla groped flamboyantly in Blake's direction, clearly desperate. Blake grabbed the Phone and bolted for the door. It was locked. Priscilla let out a electric chuckle. 'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, Blake,' she rebuked. Priscilla always had been a little clueless, so Blake knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before Priscilla did something crazy, like... start chucking dull pencils at her or something. A few freaknasty minutes later, he gripped his Phone tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels. Priscilla looked on, blankly. 'What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from Blake. 'And to think, I varnished that window frame eleven days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly she felt a tinge of concern for Blake. 'Oh. You ..okay?' Still silence. Priscilla walked over to the window and looked down. Blake was gone. ----o0o---- Just yonder, Blake was struggling to make his way through the haunted thicket behind Priscilla's place. Blake had severely hurt his taint during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral Squirrels suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the Phone. One by one they latched on to Blake. Already weakened from his injury, Blake yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of Squirrels running off with his Phone. But then God came down with His ingenious smile and restored Blake's Phone. Feeling angered, God smote the Squirrels for their injustice. Then He got in His noise-polluting import and zipped away with the fortitude of 200,000 Indonesian devil cats running from a misshapen pack of man-eating capybaras. Blake vomited with joy when he saw this. His Phone was safe. It was a good thing, too, because in seven minutes his favorite TV show, Two and a Half Men, was going to come on (followed immediately by 'When legless puppies meet pipe bomb'). Blake was ecstatic. And so, everyone except Priscilla and a few bloody glove-toting disease-carrying chipmunks lived blissfully happy, forever after. ------------------------------------------------------------ Just felt like writing random stories