Sincere salutations from all of the Personality De Baner; granted we have been a half hair behind in the posting of this particular brand of post. Indeed our weekend disaster post have since become the monthly disaster post, and it soon would have spiraled further into the land of skimpy blog posts with annual and centurial disaster posts.
But fear not, this exalted section of the blogosphere shall not fall now. It shall prevail, however many people throw eggs at us! We shall survive, even with people parallel parking tanks outside our bungalows. We shall! Though the acidic geese dropping was going a little far.
Anyway, on to the reason I’ve put time into this post. Today we shall we undergoing the latest Weekend Disaster Post, which in fact, if any advocate of this blog recalls, was the first accessory that the blog founded. Nostalgia much?! Well, let’s get started.
Weekend Disaster Post
Gorgon Paparazzi: Over the last few weeks, the authorities in the relatively quiet though largely populated town of Pabdon have been growing suspicious of the unusual new arrivals at their town. Their names were Medley Uusa, Georgette Uusa, and Ugel L.Y Uusa, and they had trouble painted on them the moment they arrived with their strangely talkative hair nets askew.
Barely after they had settled in they began a photography store just east of Main and down the road past Freak Town Boulevard and Extemporaneous Possum Way, and right beside it, an antic lawn ornament shop. The prior mentioned law enforcement officers had their suspicions aroused when the uptake in large and very lifelike stone ornaments came to their notice as well as the frequent disappearances going on within the town’s boundaries.
And, after their weekly bingo game, the slightly drunk officers weaved their way to the new sources of grossly overpriced propaganda to investigate. They had in fact cone right on time, for as they peeked through the windows they saw Medley Uusa herself taking off her hair net and becoming Medusa and immediately transfixing a customer and turning him into a perfectly carved piece of obtainable material.
Fifty percent of the policeman fainted dead away at the sight but the other percentage ran in gesticulating at the top of their lungs about it not being in the laws of the state to turn said persons to rock, and that she would pay for her past sins, and that someone must have crawled into a lampshade and barfed and then died in its phlegm because it stank in there.
But though they fought bravely, the Gorgon turned them all to stone, save for one, who called for reinforcements, and minutes later several helicopters overflowing with eager goblin recruits came over the hills and then landed, and the goblins poured into the stores with howls of unsuppressed joy and several not-here-mentioned curses in Yiddish.
And though it took many hours, casualties, and a fierce spatula duel, the three gorgons were finally restrained and immediately transferred to the county jail where they remain until further notice.
And so, all’s well that ends well, except…the part where the gorgons were actually robot test subjects for an Armageddon fleet of highly advanced battleships who happened to control a nifty black-hole machine that….Yes, but that’s another post entirely.
Until the next post
-The person who lives on Emaciated Dust-bunny Lane.