DAILY MONSTER 171
Good morning. How’s the week treating you so far? Today’s a travel day for me. I’m on my way to the re:Charge conference in Jacksonville, Florida. Burbank, Dallas/Fort Worth, Jacksonville. In a weird way I’m looking forward to the day of forced stillness in varying environments of bland carpeting and upholstery. I certainly won’t say no to a busman’s holiday.
But of course, travel doesn’t mean that the monsters stop coming. Oh no! They know they’re on whether I’m by my desk or not. Before I introduce you to No.171 I hope you’ll take a moment to read some of the brilliant stories for Monster 170. There’s some funny stuff in there. Who knew purple pants were so inspiring to anybody who’s not, you know, Prince?
Now, let’s proceed without further delay to Monster 171:
What’s he lookin’ at? Is he lookin’ at you? There’s no one else here. He must be lookin’ at you. Why do you think that is? This one might get personal, but I hope it won’t stop you. If you’re up for it, do please…
I can’t wait to see what thoughts this one will spark in your twisted brains!
By the way, when you post a story, please leave a working e-mail address in the little Typepad interface. You have my solemn promise that you’ll never get spam from me. I’m the only one who sees your address. The two things I’ll use it for are to thank you for your post, and to contact you in case there’s a Volume 2 of the Monster Book and I want to include your story. Last time around I had to cut a few really cool tales, because I had no way of getting in touch with the authors to get their permission.
I’m just saying…
Right this minute I hope that you’ll have
a great Thursday, and that the sun is shining
where you are. Remember: 344 LOVES YOU
—–
P.S. I just noticed the new warp interface at YouTube. The video quality on YouTube isn’t as nice as on Revver, but it’s quite fun to see all the monsters bubble up like that. Check it out.
Certainly is he looking at all of us, at all these wonderfull and lovely staring faces in front of, ahm… or behind the computer screen. the reason why he does so is, he needs urgently an ambidexterity, because he only can draw with one hand, with his right one. sometimes his hand is so tired of this hard work, that it wriggles around and he can’t use it. And because he always is so busy, he should do all his graphic work in half a time but the difficulty is, how to find a helping hand. so he is looking at us, how we are sitting and working in front of our technical equipment.
I was so excited to use my new hot pink flash drive, so I plugged it into the USB port on my tower……
Uh Oh………
HelloHowareyouI’dliketotalktoyouforamomentaboutlifeinsuranceDoyouhaveapolicy?
As Ralph looked into the mirror, he felt the cold washing over him. All of those memories he has tried to repress. The cold grip of the fear in his heart. He knew he was just putting off the inevitable, he knew he was just using any delay tactic he could think of.
Ralph knew he needed to see the dentist.
Geoffry never minded sitting in the very back row of the staduim. In fact, he was never annoyed when the snack vendor ignored him.
No, what got Geoffry’s knickers in a knot where those stupid airplanes that kept getting tangled in his hair. They were such a pain to have removed.
Still, he loved the sport and it wasn’t as much fun watching it at home on the television.
Now, if only he could get people to stop asking him “How’s the weather up there?”
The little man in the red shirt stood on the ground. He was ready, this was going to be the greatest moment of his life. He would finally get rid of the man in the blue shirt. All he had to do was put the ring on. He slowly took it out of his pocket, caressing it as he held it up to his face. He laughed and laughed,all of his troubles would be gone. e slipped the ring on his finger. POW! A humonguos monster shot out out of the ring. The man grinned. “Monster! You shall do a chore for me, and I will release you from your prison.” “Or I could eat you and that would release me from my prison.” The monster said. “Wha!??”, the man struggled to pull of the ring, but it wouldn’t budge. The monster devoured him in one bite. The monster then returned to his master.”The deed is done”, he said. “Thank you, You are now free”, replied the man in the blue shirt.
When Bob woke up, he found himself in a weird room. The walls, the ceiling and even the floor were painted in a brilliant white. It hurt his eyes, so he rubbed them and blinked a few times. It was still too bright.
He walked around in the room to note some other things. First of all, the room was built in a perfect square form and didn’t seem to have any furniture – or so Bob thought, until he touched the wall and almost got struck by a bed that fell from the ceiling. Secondly, the room was was lit brightly, but there were neither lamps nor any windows to be seen. Bob looked up. The ceiling seemed to be so far away from him.
The third thing was probably the one thing that scared him the most. When he had realized it, a strange feeling spread in his stomach and he began to knock at the walls.
There was no door in the white room.
Bob’s eyes snapped open. He hadn’t even noticed that he fell asleep. His neck hurt like hell. It felt for him as if his neckbones had grown. And really, when he got up, he almost fell from the bed. A glance upwards showed him that his hair almost combed the ceiling. In contrast, the ground seemed to be so far away from him.
He turned around himself and became frantic. Again, Bob’s fists began to knock at the walls. Then they knocked faster, pounded at the unmoving white material until his knuckles started to hurt.
He blinked at the ceiling. “Hello?” he asked. “Is anybody here? What happened with me? Let me out! Help me!”
Inside a dark room, a person sat in front of a brightly illuminated monitor. Bob’s face was shown on it in close-up, speaking words that blared through his headphones. The man’s neck had elongated like the one of a giraffe. The person snickered and held a voice recorder to his mouth.
“Third of april, two thousand and eight. The Experiment…Number 2133…has succeeded.”
Forget it Monster. I know what yer lookin’ at and you can’t have it.
My chocolate.
MINE.
This monster has swords. He like to live in the forest. He eat peoples. The red thing is a person he is eating. Okay I have to go eat.
Stevens slender stem allows for surreptitious snooping into his neighbors sixteenth story window.
His name is Hughbert. And from the hint of sadness in his eyes, I say he just wants a hug. For the love of Fridays, won’t someone PLEASE give this monster a hug?
I’m M.P. Thorntwistle and this is my story. It was a dark and stormy… oh, yeah – NOT. It was a normal morning. I’d just dragged myself out of bed, poured a cup ‘o joe and settled in front of the computer for an early morning email check – anticipating a missive from a pretty little lady over Sausalito way, don’t cha know.
Well, there I am, twinkle-fingerin’ all over the keyboard, when I get this right creepy feeling between my shoulder blades. I shake it off, ‘cuz it could just be some muscle thingy… from all that heavy lifting I had to do at work. (Sheesh! They actually expected me to DO stuff yesterday.) Anyways… there I am, minding my own beeswax at the computer, writing a real eloquent reply to said little Sausalito sweetie, when I get that creepy feeling again. Only, that time – I knew it wasn’t my muscles, cuz it felt kinda like a breeze or something.
I twirled around in my chair and there, head hangin’ in my open window (like he owns the place!) was a dad-blamed peeping expando-neck! The little twit was standing halfway down the block – on the sidewalk – duh! I live on the third floor of a five story building.
“What the blazes are you doin’, you little jerk?” I quick minimized my reply to the little lady and bounded out of the chair. I grabbed at his neck, but he snaked out of my grasp.
“Just popped in to say hi, Bozo.” He narrowed his beady eyes and sucked air through his ginormous teeth. “Wouldn’t you like to know what Saucy Susie from Sausalito was doing last night?”
———-
“Just tell me, Officer…” I leaned forward, elbows on the interrogation room table. “Wouldn’t you have done the same thing if he’d said that about your girl?”
Jeremy Stenson had worked more than 15 years for the PoslyWeller Trading Co. with the kind of loyalty found only in most canines. Rarely sick, never taking a personal day and shirking all opportunities for a vacation. His steadfast devotion had brought the company a long way and if not for the recent acquisition by Hatherton Holdings, Jeremy would have introduced yet another groundbreaking idea. Instead, he quit earlier in the day after months of frustration with his new boss and the direction the company was now headed.
After entering his home, he heard a slight ruckus outside, but nothing to obviously concern himself with. The doors to his home were tall and accommodating for someone of his stature. As a Protarian, his neck was incredibly long – comprised entirely of a metal-like cartilage that had the flexibility of rubber. Often times, he would simply coil it tight so as not to look down from several feet above those he conversed with; when in private, however, he let it stretch and relax.
Having recently taken care of a lumbering, hired goon, a shadowy figure loomed just outside the kitchen window. The darkness completely obscuring his detection. “Hmmmm… what was your job this evening, D?” He peered through the window and caught eye of Jeremy as he strolled into the living room. Squinting, he saw Jeremy pull some papers out of his briefcase and lay them on the table. “This fellow? He’s surely a nobody… That’s very curious. Curious indeed.” Without warning, a stray cat had jumped upon the windowsill just in front of his face. Despite not making any sound himself, the sensitive hearing of the Protarians was legendary. Jeremy turned where he stood and craned his neck through the kitchen to inspect the source of the disturbance. The cat sat calmly on the sill, only swinging its tail back and forth. Then a small glint, a slight circular image, caught Jeremy’s attention.
With a sigh, the shadowy figure mumbled, “I do dislike not getting paid for ancillary work.”
and so he just smiled and said “what dental bill?”
Tomak works at a bookstore in a little town where nothing happens but the fair once a year. This year he closed the shop early so as to eat as much cotton candy as he can. This is Tomak’s reflection in the wavy mirrors as he makes his way to the Zipper, his favorite part.
…and as he spun around Virgil grab the camera and Mortimer said, “Cheese!”
meet Greg: the only roof inspector in the world who doesn’t need a ladder to do his job. the non-matching eyes and slightly freaked-out expression are thought to have resulted from an incident where Greg was inspecting an old and delicate roof, and while he was trying to get a close look at some ridge tiles, he somehow managed to get his neck in the wrong place, and pull the enormous chimney stack down on top of his head. he now refuses to inspect buildings with dodgy chimneys.
– colclough