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Out of context: Reply #11
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It all started when our uber geek, Mr Dinky, woke up in a fanstic pumpkin patch. It was the first time it had happened. Feeling barely pleased, Mr Dinky grabbed a potato, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). A few freaknasty minutes later, he realized that his beloved Eminem's mix tape was missing! Immediately he called his favorite rape victim, Son. Mr Dinky had known Son for (plus or minus) 550,000 years, the majority of which were eccentric ones. Son was unique. She was intelligent though sometimes a little... insensitive. Mr Dinky called her anyway, for the situation was urgent.
Son picked up to a very mad Mr Dinky. Son calmly assured him that most legless puppies sigh before mating, yet South American hissing sloths usually earnestly yawn *after* mating. She had no idea what that meant; she was only concerned with distracting Mr Dinky. Why was Son trying to distract Mr Dinky? Because she had snuck out from Mr Dinky's with the Eminem's mix tape only seven days prior. It was a sassy little Eminem's mix tape... how could she resist?
It didn't take long before Mr Dinky got back to the subject at hand: his Eminem's mix tape. Son grimaced. Relunctantly, Son invited him over, assuring him they'd find the Eminem's mix tape. Mr Dinky grabbed his time machine and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Son realized that she was in trouble. She had to find a place to hide the Eminem's mix tape and she had to do it aggressively. She figured that if Mr Dinky took the gas-guzzling, ecology-destroying, tankish SUV, she had take at least nine minutes before Mr Dinky would get there. But if he took the PimpMyRide? Then Son would be really screwed.
Before she could come up with any reasonable ideas, Son was interrupted by two oafish George Bushs that were lured by her Eminem's mix tape. Son grimaced; 'Not again', she thought. Feeling stunned, she randomly reached for her dangerous oil-soaked rag and carefully poked 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 PimpMyRide rolling up. It was Mr Dinky.
As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at McDonald's to pick up a 12-pack of ripened avocados, so he knew he was running late. With a deft leap, Mr Dinky was out of the PimpMyRide and went explosively jaunting toward Son's front door. Meanwhile inside, Son was panicking. Not thinking, she tossed the Eminem's mix tape into a box of carrots and then slid the box behind her giraffe. Son was relieved but at least the Eminem's mix tape was concealed. The doorbell rang.
'Come in,' Son exotically purred. With a skillful push, Mr Dinky opened the door. 'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some dimwitted self-righteous ass in a homemade car,' he lied. 'It's fine,' Son assured him. Mr Dinky took a seat vaguely close to where Son had hidden the Eminem's mix tape. Son yawned trying unsuccessfully to hide her nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' she blurted. But Mr Dinky was distracted. Heart filled with earnest fortitude, Son noticed a stupid look on Mr Dinky's face. Mr Dinky slowly opened his mouth to speak.
'...What's that smell?'
Son felt a stabbing pain in her taint when Mr Dinky asked this. In a moment of disbelief, she realized that she had hidden the Eminem's mix tape right by her oscillating fan. 'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie. A insensitive look started to form on Mr Dinky's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place. 'Th-th-those are just my grandma's gerbils from when she used to have pet legless puppies. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'. Mr Dinky nodded with fake acknowledgement...th en, before Son could react, Mr Dinky recklessly lunged toward the box and opened it. The Eminem's mix tape was plainly in view.
Mr Dinky stared at Son for what what must've been three microseconds. Suddenly cheered up by the Hamtaro theme song, Son groped explosively in Mr Dinky's direction, clearly desperate. Mr Dinky grabbed the Eminem's mix tape and bolted for the door. It was locked. Son let out a striking chuckle. 'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, Mr Dinky,' she rebuked. Son always had been a little abrasive, so Mr Dinky knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before Son did something crazy, like... start chucking potatos at her or something. A few unfulfilled decades later, he gripped his Eminem's mix tape tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.
Son looked on, blankly. 'What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from Mr Dinky. 'And to think, I varnished that window frame five days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly she felt a tinge of concern for Mr Dinky. 'Oh. You ..okay?' Still silence. Son walked over to the window and looked down. Mr Dinky was gone.
Just yonder, Mr Dinky was struggling to make his way through the foxy forest behind Son's place. Mr Dinky had severely hurt his kidney during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral George Bushs suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the Eminem's mix tape. One by one they latched on to Mr Dinky. Already weakened from his injury, Mr Dinky yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of George Bushs running off with his Eminem's mix tape.
But then God came down with His attractive smile and restored Mr Dinky's Eminem's mix tape. Feeling relieved, God smote the George Bushs for their injustice. Then He got in His magic flying carpet and sped away with the fortitude of 153 Indonesian devil cats running from a misshapen pack of South American hissing sloths. Mr Dinky shimmied with joy when he saw this. His Eminem's mix tape was safe. It was a good thing, too, because in three minutes his favorite TV show, 106 & Park, was going to come on (followed immediately by 'When venomous koalas meet pipe bomb'). Mr Dinky was relieved. And so, everyone except Son and a few hand grenade-toting South American hissing sloths lived blissfully happy, forever after.
MrDinky
(Nov 5 05, 20:28)