The Fluffy Chronicles – Subtraction By Addition

By Fluffy

(Interpreter’s Note: The previous chapters of “The Fluffy Chronicles” were released on September 3, October 1, and October 31 of 2006 and can be reviewed through the Archive-by-Month feature in the column to the right of this article below Previous Posts. This chapter of “The Fluffy Chronicles” is dedicated to Kona and Sidamo, who will need Fluffy’s guidance soon enough.)

Day 525 – This past month has sucked wholeheartedly. Longhair must have eaten her brain, too – she’s large enough to spot from space and she’s acting as crazy as a shithouse rat. Speaking of shithouse rats – yikes, Longhair! I know you can’t reach everywhere with your tongue that you used to, but some consideration would be appreciated. Some of us have incredibly keen senses of smell around here!

Day 540 – Longhair fell asleep on the couch in nothing but her sleepshirt. Nothing. I unwittingly leapt to the six-square-inch patch of couch left for me to join her. It is suffice to say that her sleepshirt is far far far far far too small. Sweet Meowhammed, please relieve me of my sight before such a ghastly vision crosses my eyes again.

Day 551 – Come about 3 am, Longhair screamed at the top of her lungs, Shorthair skittered around the house like a constipated Chihuahua on crystal meth gathering small items in a large bag, and they both hustled out a slamming door as if their tails were burning wicks about to set their anuses on fire. Hmmm… the humans must have snuck a peek at my playbook. Touche, mon ami!

Day 554 – I haven’t seen my humans since that night. One of Shorthair’s friends comes over every once in a while to fill my food dish and watch the game. Heh heh heh… in about two more beers, a spirited chirp-and-flop and some random batting at the air should cute Shorthair’s friend out of some of that kielbasa he just microwaved.

Day 556 – Praise Meowhammed! The Humans are back – and Longhair is much smaller! They are carrying a basket with a smallish cooing, milk-smelling thing in it. Perhaps they really wanted a fresh kill for dinner and it took them five days to get it - they could have asked The Expert over here and save themselves some time…

Day 560 – That damned cooing thing is still here, only sometimes it is a crying thing. The milky smell has also faded into a sort of milky, powdery, wet-farty smell as well. I wish they’d hurry up and slaughter the damned thing! Besides, ever since it showed up, nobody has made much time for Fluffy. Has everyone forgotten that the king of this realm is none other that Fluffi al-Thirdstreeti? Hold on… Longhair just snatched the wailing meat-nugget out of its cage. This could be the moment I’ve been waiting for! She’s cradling it in one arm while unbuttoning her blouse with the other – a bizarre slaughter ritual to say the least, but whatever gets the job done, Sweetcheeks. The meat-nugget seems to have attached itself to Longhair’s exposed breast. It’s… oh Ballah no… it’s… IT’S SUCKLING!

Krypto-Not

By Knorr the Interpreter

There is a show called “Heroes” on NBC that chronicles the lives of normal everyday people who discover that they have superpowers. I’ve never seen the show, but I may have to start watching it to pick up pointers. You see – I discovered I have a super power.

I can generate my own body weight in snot every three hours or so.

Granted, this power only presents itself when I get a vicious head cold, but I think that is only because I have yet to figure out how to harness it. How would I go about honing this superpower into a formidable weapon for the Forces of Good? I’m thinking something like what Frozone from The Incredibles does with ice – just shooting arced ramps of snot from my fingers so I can glide through the air, coating villains in an inescapable cocoon of nose jelly and/or adhering them to walls until the authorities show up – that kind of thing. There must be some way, some place, some person, some Mucous Master Sensei Dojo where I can train in the discipline of the snottial arts.

Another important question – what will my super hero name be? My formidable powers would never be taken seriously unless I had one. Also, children would never say “When I grow up, I want to be just like Carl Knorr!” and if kids don’t say they want to grow up to be you, you pretty much suck as a superhero. All I have come up with so far is “The ConJester”, but that sounds too evil - beginning with “Con” and all – and trust me, you don’t want me running around town in the harlequin pants such a name would force me to wear.

Google has been no help so far, but I’m not giving up. This potential power from my proboscis is too great too ignore. Until then, I’ll just fill tissue after tissue with my marvelous mucal might until the mound of empty Puffs boxes in the corner grows as high as Superman’s nose.

Sonnet 420

By William “Billy Bud” Shakespeare

Returneth do I to the mortal plane
For company of scholars ere I long -
To University and lads urbane.
Where men of Greece to me offer a “bong”.

Music riseth not from pipes, but smoke.
Curious, inhaleth I the steam.
Yea, multitudes of images evoke,
But yearn for ale and vict’ls reign supreme.

Upon the frat house door a stranger tapped
Deliver unto us did he, to wit:
Beef and beans within tortilla wrapp’d -
Verily, mine homes - ‘tis righteous shit!

Lo, chill’th I now before sublime cartoons
Hail Robert Sponge of Quadrate Pantaloons!