Monday, September 14, 2009

The Story So Far

You know, while I was trapped in that there robot suit on Meth World, I had a little time to do a little thinkin. The first thing I was thinkin was "Hey, brother, what exactly is goin on here? How did I get here? What's up with this giant robot suit?" And then I got to thinkin about how much I like cupcakes. I ain't sayin that one had anything to do with the other, but only that thems is the order of my thoughts. And, really, who can blame me? Cupcakes is right delicious. It's like a muffin with all that bran and fiber and chunks of cardboard taken out of it and replaced with sugar and frostin. Plus, you can get sprinkles on 'em. I dare you to go into a fancy schmancy bagel store and try to get sprinkles on your muffin. They will laugh at you. They will laugh and they will point. Then you will start to cry. But you won't want them to get the satisfaction of seein you cry, so you pretend like there's somethin in your eye, forgettin that you'd caught a bee and put it to sleep using the bee hypnosis trick your Great Uncle Mort taught you, so that when you raise your hand to your face to pretend that you've got somethin in your eye, you inadvertently put the bee in your eye. Then, there you are, standin right in the middle of the bagel shop, surrounded by yuppies and hipsters with a durned bee stuck in your eye. So you gotta turn to run out of there, but there's a whole line of people waitin to get their muffins and coffee and you gotta shove your way through. You start shovin and pushin and tryin to get out of there, but havin that durned bee in your eye makes it real hard to see and finally, lookin up, you see that you're surrounded by pirates and you think you may be goin crazy. It's just a sea of frilly shirts, peg legs and stuffed parrots. Someone yells out, "Ahoy, me hearty, what wind has bepuffed yer sails?" And then you scream and fall to your knees, raging at the heavens that have brought you to this wretched state. Of course, later you will find out that it was September 19th, which is International Talk Like a Pirate Day, and that the bee in your eye was really a ladybug that had costumed herself up for the annual Ladybug Fancy Dress Ball, but neither of those things will make the experience less traumatic at the time. At least, that's how I imagine the whole sprinkled muffin thing going for you. If it turns out different, feel free to let me know.

After the cupcake thought, which takes a lot longer to explain than to think (it basically just went, "Boy howdy, do I ever love cupcakes!"), I started thinkin about relatin my adventures to people. I figured if it were hard for me to remember how I got here, it may be well nigh impossible for those people astumblin through the internets onto this here blog thingy. Fer those of ya that have been readin for awhile, this is gonna be old information, and I sure am sorry 'bout that. But fer those of you who's just startin out, this is gonna be a little primer on the more excitin aspects of the last year or so in Pat O'Neil's life. If you get interested, you could prolly go back and check up on things, but, after this, you won't be in for a month of readin before readin, if you catch my drift. Also, for those of you who have been readin, and want to get your friends readin, this may be the perfect time. That was a little hint to y'all, in case you didn't catch it. The hint bein, maybe you could git some more people readin this thing so I can live my big dreams of bein a superstar writer like that there J.K. Rowling or that Shakespeare fella or even, if you was so inclined, the guy who wrote Beowulf (not the movie, the long poem). Failin that, I could live my dream of being slightly more well known than the Numa Numa guy. It may not be a big dream, but it's a dream, consarnit. In this here retellin, I'm gonna try my best to stay on track, but I ain't promisin nothin, cause that just ain't my style. So, let's see how this works out.

One day, I flipped my truck over. Longways. I didn't intend to do that, nor was I sauced up or nothin. There was this crazy monkey thing in my truck and I was tryin to combat it while I was drivin. Then I hit a little sapling which bent over and flipped my truck over its own back bumper. Then, me and my buddy Douggy, who doesn't sleep because of some childhood clown trauma, went to flip it back over, which we finally managed to do after pullin the fenders off.

My truck was sittin there for awhile and then it started gettin fixed at night. I stayed up for a couple nights to find out what in tarnation was goin on. It turned out that the monkey what had attacked me was part of a whole crew of monkeys that wasn't actually monkeys, they was genetically modified creatures full of parts of of other things, but mostly monkeys and flying squirrels, which is why they're called Squimonk. Them Squimonk felt right bad about my truck and so they'd been fixin it, even though that wasn't their real line of business.

Even though they was right good as fixin trucks, the Squimonks' real business was fightin ninjas. Now, don't get me wrong, it ain't like they was just wanderin around pickin fights with random ninjas on the streets. You could do that, sure. You may even brag to your friend that you fought a ninja and lived, you know, if you live through it. But it ain't like that ninja was gonna do anything to you anyway. You probably just got him on the way to the office. Here he is, walkin to work, tryin to listen to Morning Edition and catch up with the news when this guy gets all in his face just because he's a ninja. He don't wanna fight, he just wants to finish his project before his boss, Mr. Johnson, yells at him. And now, all of a sudden, he's got to fight a guy in the street. I tell ya, it just ain't fair bein a ninja in today's world. But, like I says, they're not fightin Mr. Johnson's ninja assistant. They're the mortal enemies of a group of ninjas named Clan Platypus. Clan Platypus is, like many ninja clans, bent on takin over the world. Unlike most ninja clans, however, they ain't plannin on doin it with a bunch of throwin stars and smoke bombs. They're much more sinister. You see, Clan Platypus is tryin to take over the world through Meth, the drug that's eatin away blue collar America, and other colors of collars in other parts of the world. Apparently, if you do enough meth, you lose all willpower and will just do whatever the ninjas tell ya to do. Platypus is workin on makin enough of these meth zombies that they can topple society and start sellin meth everywhere.

The only thing stoppin em right now are the Squimonk. Well, it ain't the only thing. Sane people's aversion to shooting a drug made out of battery acid and iodine into their veins is helpin some. The Squimonk are tryin to shut them down forever. They're not entirely alone, though. They recruited me as a front for their operations. They even built me a nice shop, which I named "Pat O'Neil's Body Shop, Used Car Emporium and Good Time Donut Eatery." Where, you may ask, did they get the money for all this? Well, Mr. or Mrs. or even possibly Ms. Impatient Smarty-Pants, I was just gettin to that, if you'll hold yer horses. They've got the financial backing of one Mr. Charles Lindbergh, whose young son was once kidnapped by Clan Platypus. "Wait, isn't Lindbergh dead?" you may ask next. To which I will respond, "that's what he wanted us to think." In fact, in his quest to harm the Clan, he found the secret to life eternal; sweet potato burritos on sea monkey tortillas. It ain't pleasant, but it lets him get his revenge.

So I was all set up with this shop and everything, and I wasn't supposed to do nothin. But my help was needed in defeatin Amelia Earhart. Turns out she ain't really the flyin ace woman we all knew and loved as children. In fact, as I learned, she's really an ice giantess older than the Earth itself that feeds off of the tears of orphans. It may not be a high fiber diet, but I guess it gets ya through. Also, you could prolly put sprinkles on top of the orphans if you wanted a festive meal. Course, that's neither here nor there. She had entered herself the yearly contest of NAMSU. That is, the National Association of Makin Stuff Up, an organization that allows people to come and tell tall tales. It was her intention to infiltrate that contest and, when she won, attribute her success to meth, thus gettin more people to try it out. In the end, I beat her with one whopper of a tale, and she reverted to giantess form and broke out the building.

Later, Lindbergh decided I needed some ninja fightin trainin, you know, just in case. So he started sendin these robot ninjas to fight me. Jared, this Goth kid who lives in town, saw me fightin one and got all hot and bothered. He told his ma, who thought he was crazy and threatened to send him to military school. Well, I couldn't let him go to military school for somethin I did, so I gave him a job. Within the first week, he up and got hisself kidnapped by ninjas and we all had to fly down to Earhart's antarctic base that was filled with these crazy penguins. In the end, we saved him and brought him home. He still works at the shop; mostly sweepin, but we occasionally let him run the cash register.

After that, the Squimonk decided to take down the regional meth distributer, a fella by the name of McClawenstein. Nasty man. To be honest, he's actually only half a nasty man. He's also half nasty lobster. He used to run a travelling carnival and would entertain himself by torturin people with his mysterious flatulant gas. He's taken the simple fart and turned it into an art; an evil art. He's got killer gas that can literally melt the face off an elephant at 100 paces.

McClawenstein had set his distribution up through the local 99 Cent stores, which I already had a problem with because they're a bunch of liars. Eventually, after breakin in and freein some giant slugs, I found out McClawenstein was actually my neighbor Dale. We sat and talked things out for awhile in his living room, but he was really just laying a trap. At the end of the afternoon, he cut the cheese something fierce and sent me hurtling to an alternative Earth. But it wasn't the one he wanted to send me to. Lindbergh redirected me for a time to this great beach and explained that I'd be goin to a different world, and he didn't know where, but he'd try to find me. He also told me that Clan Platypus had figured out FTL travel and was really tryin to conquer all the worlds in the universe with meth.

That came true, sadly. And so here I am, stuck on a world that they've already methed out wonderin how I'm gonna get home. Also, where the bathroom is.

So, that's the story so far. I hope it clears some things up for you and I hope it entices you some to keep followin my life and adventures. It looks like they're gonna get a lot more adventure-ey from here on out.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I got a giant fire-breathin robot that looks like a ninja to fight.


Drew said...

I guess we could end this fight by throwing the ninjas in drug rehab instead of killing them, right?

Keith said...

Drew, obviously you dont know the power of meth, or ninjas. Rehab just doesnt work. I agree with Pat, they must go!

Anonymous said...

This is a brilliantly-written summary. While it does its job, it's also more entertaining than summaries tend to be, so it's a good read even for those who know the story.

So I guess when the books comes out, this is the introduction to volume two?

Anonymous said...

Some errors:

"if you can't my drift" -> "if you catch my drift"

"It turned out that the money what had attacked me was part of a whole crew of moneys" -> "It turned out that the monkey what had attacked me was part of a whole crew of monkeys"

"the squimonk's real business" -> "the squimonks' real business"

"Squimonk" is sometimes capitalized, other times not.

"who's young son" -> "whose young son"

"Wait, isn't Lindbergh dead," you may ask next" -> "Wait, isn't Lindbergh dead?" you may ask next"

"That's what he wanted us to think" -> no capital T

I ignored the intentional stylistic errors such as leaving the "g" off the ends of certain words.

Pat O'Neil said...

Noted and changed. Thank ya kindly. And yes, we could consider this the beginning of book two.