DAILY MONSTER 46
Good morning! Welcome to the first regular business day of 2007. You’re starting off strong! Stephanie responds to Monster 45 by reporting sightings of savage anti-cuddly boars on the rampage. Victoria suspects robot zombies from Epsilon 9. Schlockading sees a porcupig with venomous quills and leg surgery. And we’re off to the races.
Terry T. is opening the new year with another outer space epic. Meet J. Peter Malton, interstellar smuggler and ne’erdowell. He’d make both Lone Starr and Han Solo proud. You’re inching the bar higher every day, Terry. Clearly, the Schwartz is with you. Well done!
Sam B. also goes into space for Monster 45. He shows what happens when you feed anti-gravity beer to square pigs. (Would that be Zeröbräu? Or Quantum Pilsner?) You’ve got to check it out.
Sam may have intuited the direction of Monster 46. Is that a Zero Gravity Donkey? A monster pony as seen through a plate of glass? Or something so utterly different and unusual that our brains simply insert the image of a cute lil’ horsey to protect our visual cortex from evaporating on the spot? I’m excited to find out what you think! (And I hope your folks will like it, too, sus!) Have a great day and remember: 344 LOVES YOU
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Victoria, Rose, and Sam: Many thanks for posting coments on 43 and 44. I didn’t see them after I had already posted the story round-up and shut down for the night. Thank you for all your kind words!
That was a great one again! Neat horse monster 🙂
He looks like he would be a past monster’s dog. (yes, even with the horseshoes)
I’d figure out who, but I’ll be in my little Studying for Admissions Exams World for the next week. See you on the other side (hopefully with a good score in hand).
Looks like a horsequito!
Looks like the Dems sneaking back to DC after some raw holidays.
Horsequito, that’s funny! What it the drum sound at the end of the illustration?
TYRANOSAURUS ROACH!
JOHN STOCKTON: We’re back and we’ll check with Chet Peterson in a moment for the weather, but now… I’m being told it will be over to Bob first… it’s once again with the pageantry goodness of the Day After New Year’s Day Parade here in lovely Weippe, Idaho. You know it, you probably heard of it, you’d be living under a rock if you haven’t, the Marty’s Hardware and Pizzaria’s Parade. As with every year, free cases of 10-penny nails and all you can eat calzones. We’re going to Bob, who’s joining us now from somewhere in the middle of that parade. Hey, Bob, things are shaping out rather nicely.
BOB HEFTER: You know what? Actually, I can talk about the weather, because as you know, John, I’ve been doing this for several years now. It never changes. It’s cold. Really cold. Why is it so damn cold, you ask? Because we live in Idaho. And it’s January. Look! Snow! Who didn’t see that coming?
Anyway, surprisingly, people keep coming to this damn parade year after year. I don’t know why. Don’t ask. Now, of course, a lot of people are talking about these balloons that are coming back from the … Christ, we’ve only been doing this for 6 years … uhm … so ya, from like 2 years ago and as far back as five years ago. Apparently the first year’s balloons went up like the Hindenburg back in late ’02. That’s why most of these look like crap – they were made two days before the 2nd Annual Marty’s Hardware and Pizzaria’s Day After New Year’s Day Parade. Sweet merciful crap… not sure there’s enough alcohol to make me want to do this thing for another year. So, the old balloons are back, if you can call ’em old, and a lot of people are talking about this. That’s why we’re seeing so many crowds out here — all 25 citizens. I can’t believe we hire day laborers from four towns over to guide these balloons. There are people who are watching too, of course. They know what balloons have been here in the past. Not sure how they could forget. They keep tips on this. Why? Seriously. The daily news publishes a whole supplement on this. So there are real parade experts. For the love of… And it’s also about tradition and what this parade means to you at a very particular and special way. And we’ve got Selma, Gabriele and Jane Rodriguez, who have quite a special story to share with us. Or, rather, more special than the other illegal immigrants that got lost on their way to Texas. Continuing on for another 1,400 miles was, oddly, the best solution? Anywho, this was, for your father, a very special event, is that right?
SELMA RODRIGUEZ, PARADE GOER: Absolutely. Get us up every day after New Year’s day morning and we had to sit there in front of the television and watch the parade. He wanted our family to know what it was like in the old country. You see, balloon number 46…
BOB: Howdy Horsey?
SELMA: Yeah. That one. Anyway, it’s number 46 in the line-up. Well, my father’s father was mauled by a wild herd of those things and he wanted all of us to know the dangers of giant balloons. To see them wrangled and restrained by my people here in Weippe is a beautiful site.
BOB: Wait, you mean mauled by wild horses, right? That’s truly… weird.
SELMA: No – mauled by a wild pack of those giant balloon animals you guys are escorting down the streets.
CAMERA CUT TO BOB, WHO’S MOUTH IS WIDE OPEN AS HE STANDS IN COMPLETE CONFUSION.
SELMA: True story.
AWKWARD SILENCE.
BOB: John… Back to you. Forever. Happy New Year, ya freaks.
Look, up in the sky – it’s National Velvet, it’s Seabiscuit – no, it’s the Flying Donkman! Flying over the city, seeking out crime wherever it may be!
Today, the Flying Donkman sees someone mugging A Guy down on the street. “Never fear, the Flying Donkman is here!” The Flying Donkman swoops down to help A Guy. “Get out of here, crooks!” he yells. He takes his giant hoofs and kicks both of the muggers away.
“Here’s a souvenir!” he says and hands both the muggers a horseshoe.
“Thanks, Donkman!” A Guy says.
“Any time, Guy!”
Another day saved by none other than… the Flying Donkman!
Spider Donkey!
The tiny horse monster. As they call him quickly gallops through the meadows of green plains. That cover a vast land. Miles and miles of plains. Flowers, and all of the like. As the tiny horse monster, or Robert as he is properly named, gallops through the grassy plains, he notices all the other horses. Galloping about, eating grass, and drinking from the stream nearby.
Robert begins to wonder why he is so tiny. And why these ‘creatures’ of such, are so… big. Robert decides to go to the stream to get a drink as well. Weary that he might get stepped on, or get eaten. But, continues on anyways past the other horses.
As the stream flows, the wind rocks and shakes the trees like a warm sunny days withought a cloud in site… Robert begins to drink of plenty from the stream, Robert has had enough to drink. He decides to eat some grass now, beginning to gallop to the spot; he notices that there are no Horses over there, at THAT spot of grass. He gallops to the spot of grass, and begins to eat. Suddenly he hears a noise. Sort of like a rumbling noise. A panting. A running. It was a collie dog coming straight for him. As he began to realize what was really happening, he began to gallop. Galloped as fast as he could ever gallop in his short life. Suddenly the wind started to pick up. The wind had knocked him into a nearby tree.
From there on, he was safe. As he fell asleep, and now is seeing the blackness of sleep.
Great one today! Hope you enjoyed my little story. : )
Heywood was a fine gift. I never expected to get a pony for my birthday. Everything about him looked great, but upon closer examination of the aforementioned equestrian, its poor condition was soon discovered. I had been given a mad pony.
Just under fourteen hands tall, Heywood barely made the pony cut. Outcast by his peers for his size, and useless as a rider due to a rare distoangular impaction of his wolf teeth, he was ignored and ridiculed throughout his life.
He was given a small plot of pasture, ten feet by ten feet where he spent his youth. He had grown quite delusional and psychotic from years of seclusion. And after a few years had passed, his owner decided to put him up for sale.
My parents, always ones to jump on a bargain, saw the ad in the local classifieds for a discount pony and thought of me.
I grew to enjoy his company, although he still creeps me out a little with his constant toothy smile. There’s not much rolling around upstairs in ol’ Heywood’s noodle, but his heart is big and he enjoys my companionship. I would have tried to get rid of him at first, but he was a gift pony, and I never once looked him in the mouth.
Hi Jen. The drum sounds—as correctly identified by Crimson on the 29th—are the opening beats of “Dress You Up” by Madonna. Adding the sound at the end keeps Revver’s transcoding engine from cutting off the final two seconds. (It’s a bug they’re working on.) Thank you for checking in. Happy New Year!
Sorry. I stopped reading the comments when you started giving a daily recap of them. Seems a bit redundant to read both.
Metamorphose von Vroni dem Pony
Dem guten Pferdle gelingen die ersten Flugversuche auf Anhieb. Leichthufig hebt es bereits einige Zentimeter ab. Doch der Kopf ist zu schwer.
Erste Anzeichen einer beginnenden Metamorphose sind an der Ausbildung der Fühler schon zu erkennen. Da die Kopfschrumfpung noch im Anfangsstadium ist und Schweif und Nackenhaare noch nicht zu Tragflächen verschmolzen sind, klappt die Sache mit dem Fliegen noch nicht so optimal. Das allerdings tut der Freude unseres übermütigen Vroni-Pony keinen Abbruch. Es weiss, dass es bald ein einzigartiges Schetterlingsflugpony sein wird, das fröhlich von dannen flattern kann.
Nachtrag zu Vroni dem Pony. Beim durchblättern des Monsternamenregisters ist dem Archivar aufgefallen, dass bereits eine Kreatur mit diesem Namen existiert. Deshalb wird des Ponys vollständiger Name preisgegeben, nicht einfach Vroni-Pony, sondern Koni Vroni Pony.
Der gute alte Rilke ist ja auch nicht nur der Maria…
Endlich, der metamorphotische Monsterponymann ist geboren!