|
I take you now to a dimly lite corner of Plook's recently cleaned out garage, the strains of Plook's uncle Barry professing "I write the songs" playing quietly in the back ground, below the faded 1988 pirelli calender depicting the red g string adorned buttocks of a buxom blond of unknown origin, Garry lays snoring in a pool of drool strapped to a stainless steel bench, his shivering body makes his mangy fur ripple like the gentle swell of the ocean on a calm day in Maui. A distressed Plook lays sobbing why why why inconsolably on the garage floor as the motorcade of black SUV's rapidly retreat down his driveway....
Plooks idea had begun to germinate around March 2011, by early 2012 Plook was a man with a plan. It had all began that summer two years ago during the unprecedented droughts that had swept the northwest, Plook had noticed that no matter how hot and dry the weather Gary was still able to drool, endlessly. So Plook began to think how can I harness Gary's drool to combat global warming. His plan was to develop a more efficient raindrop. If successful Plook hoped to become so rich he would survive the fast approching taxmageddon completely unscathed, and as a by product save humanity, for a small fee of course. Plook had confided in Pope Jim, who immediately cashed up his little blue pill tm shares and the profits from his novel to invest in Plook's scam, I mean scheme. Plook had cleaned out a corner of his garage and using a mix of components salvaged from great grand pappy's 1920's moonshine still and a home brew kit purchased from Wal Mart with Jim's stake money, set up a low tech distillation plant. To Kiirk's trained eye, during a covert late night seek and toot meth finding mission, Plook's garage looked just like a meth lab, but dispite Kiirk's thorough search there was no meth to be found. In a very very short time Plook had managed to produce 48 dozen bottles of rather tasty high alcohol lager, a vodka that during a blind test had indeed blinded Plook the youngers pet guinea pig, but had proved to be a fantastic multi purpose household cleaner and an alternate fuel for his weed wacker, lawn mower and the family car. But the piece de resistance was a very large very wet raindrop, .01 percent pure water 99.9 percent distilled poodle drool, Gary's saliva was the key to the process, the secret ingredient if you will. Unfortunately our story now takes a perverse turn for the worse, when acting on information received from Disco Boy an IRS audit of Plook's finances uncovers an unexplained drop in expenditure on alcohol, fuel and household cleaning products. This inevitably led to agents acting on behalf of the newly ordained leader of the free world raiding Plooks garage and seizing his distillation plant, lock stock and barrel. Dispite Plooks pleas for them to leave the still and take the poodle, Gary is left behind, why why why didn't I use my secret basement Plook sobs, banging his freshly shaved bonce in the ever increasing puddle of drool on the garage floor. With a snort a cluster of rainbow coloured poodle drool bubbles escape from Gary's muzzle floating silently down on a gust of his rancid breath, landing on Plook's shining scalp momentarily transforming his head into an miniture psychedelic likeness of the g string clad buttocks depicted on his beloved Pirelli calender, with a wet plink the bubbles burst and the strangely erotic tableau is lost forever as uncle Barry warbles " could it be magic" from the battered Sanyo cassette player and Plook gently weeps......
_________________
Thanks for the music Frank.
Well I'm about to get sick from watching my TV
|
Login
Register
FAQ
Search
