One day, Bob and the Entourage were "chillin" by Bob's neato swimming pool, watching the bugs fly around and the sun glint off the water. Bob, who was a wee bit tipsy, kept mumbling something about a "Sparkly" but Melvin refused to let him bail off into the pool with his beer, because that would have been a waste of beer. Now, the Entourage was entertaining a guest; Lady, the last surviving member of Clan MacWeenie. She was laying on her belly by the pool, lips curled, snarling every time Bob looked at her crooked, with an untouched beer to her left. Now, SPAM was finding all of this rather funny,(as he was still sorta unhinged by the turkey affair) and had made some rather, ah, coarse remarks, and so the rest of the Entourage was none too pleased with him. He was really acting like Super Psycho Ashton Man with a Death Wish, because he kept calling Bob "Fabio," but SPAMWADW didn't look or sound as cool as just SPAM.
The Entourage just laid there in the sun, everyone but Melvin getting REALLY sunburned. (Melvin did not get sunburned because he used his phenomenal mental powers to bend the sun's rays around him and was thus permanently in the shade, with a breeze and a little drink with an umbrella in it.) Lady MacWeenie was getting grumpy, because she was hot, so Bob pushed her into the pool. Lady was NOT happy about this, so she retaliated by biting the nearest thing to her, which just happened to be SPAM's right arm. Well, SPAM let out a REALLY high-pitched scream, flopped around like a dying chicken, then got up and said, "Dude, I need a band-aid!" Well, since he had been being rather cruel to everyone, no one would get him a band-aid, so he just had to stand there and bleed. Well, the bleeding finally stopped, but SPAM's arm was virtually useless. He couldn't drum!
"OH NOOOO!!!!" thought Bob, but Bob, being a wee bit tipsy, just said, "Dude....where's the sparkly?" Melvin hit him upside the head. "Bob! You broke the drummer!" Melvin said. Bob protested that it wasn't HIS fault, because it was Lady that had bitten SPAM, after all. Melvin tactfully pointed out that Lady would not have bitten SPAM had Bob not pushed her into the pool. Bob was very upset, because now he would have to find a new drummer! Then it occured to him -they could pour beer on SPAM's arm and it would be fixed! (Bob knew this because he was once accidentally clawed by a crazed fan, and pouring beer on the wound had at least made him feel better!) Bob grabbed SPAM, who was feeling kind of light-headed from losing all that blood, and poured the remainder of his Lone Star on SPAM's arm. The wound sizzled and closed up, and SPAM was HEALED!! AMEN, brother-sister-friend! SPAM was VERY happy, and apologized for being mean to Bob and the rest of the Entourage. Fredania, who had consoled the poor, traumatized Lady after the whole pool-tossing incident, nodded sagely, then suggested that SPAM talk to Shelley about his "anger problem", as Shelley was a psychologist, and a darn good one, too. Bob grinned, happy at having solved yet ANOTHER problem, got himself another Lone Star, and sat down next to Melvin to steal some of his perma-shade.
THE END
Author's note: Lady, the last surviving member of Clan MacWeenie, is a dachshund, owned by none other than Lids, the High Holy Goddess of Bobishness. Get your minds out of the gutter! Oh, and I shamelessly stole the Sparkly fetish from The Secret of Nimh....you know, the crow, always looking for a "Sparkly"??? What? You've never seen The Secret of Nimh? What's WRONG with you?????? You mean, you can't name Mrs. Jonathon Frisby's late husband? AACK!
Note from Lids, High Holy Goddess of Bobishness: I was in no way part of this story, other than suggesting in a round about way that the drummer could get broken. So there!! Ha!! Well, I also suggested that my dog be put in the story but anyway.....
In Bob We Trust,
~Lids!~
