Saturday, February 1, 2014

Weekend Disaster Post

We interrupt the Week of the Ogre slightly today by posting an update on the well known criminal mastermind The Hooded Huddleglum.
NOTICE: Tomorrow the Finale of the Riddle Ogre short story will be posted, so put your votes in for what happens at the end of the last installment!
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Hooded Huddleglum in Custody: Early this morning, in the capital city of Wenidoogoo; the widely renowned felon under the name ‘The Hooded Huddleglum’ was captured while playing blackjacks on the roof of city hall with several Ogres.

            Mr. Huddleglum refused to reveal the reason for his actions atop the capital’s building, and was charged with multiple felonies, including loitering with intent to TP, ambushing government employees, and the attempt at passing a law banning maple syrup.

            His maple syrup prejudices notwithstanding, Mr. Huddleglum was taken in an armored truck to his temporary holding cell in the grottoes underneath the Dynamite and Molasses Factory Firm. His arresting officers obviously a few chips short of a crisp bag, locked him in a minimum security cave; with a rusty lock…and shuttered windows…close to an access shaft.

            Soon after his imprisonment, witnesses heard an elephant playing the musical saw close by their charges cell, at least they thought that was what it was, and immediately ran to the cell, to see no musical pachyderm, but an exploded cell door; and a note stuck to the wall with a wad of gum saying:

IVe Es Caped I uSeD Ur MagaZ InES TWO WritE ThiS
            
 Fuming with anger at the theft of their Hunting Quarterly’s, the police guard attempted to recapture the fugitive, but found that he had scarpered up the access shaft.

Aboveground, a hoard of Marshwiggle radicals had overpowered the factory patrollers, and, joined soon after by their paper clipping spattered hero, they set to work inside the factory, witnessed by several hidden factory security guards.

            Several minutes after their entrance into the factory, the crowds of depressed creatures exited, following The Hooded Huddleglum to the Wenidoogoo capital; carrying several tons of dynamite and several oceans worth of molasses.

            At roughly one-o’clock in the afternoon, the city capital was buried in a wash of molasses, and promptly sank out of sight, its foundation having been exploded by a thousand packs of cheep explosives.

            The police have continued their hunt for the fugitive Marshwiggle, but as every officer is found strapped right side down on a lamp post covered with grocery advertisements, it seems Mr. Huddleglum shall be left alone for the time being.

            As far as we have gleaned, the Marshwiggle leader has since sold several tons of protest signs, a leer jet, and three of his cotton socks on Craigslist. Why? We shall certainly never know. How? Magic.

            Written by Mister Byuninch

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