Bob and the Saving of Roadie Cletus
Once upon a time, there lived a lad by the name of Bob McLugie who owned a lucrative Llama Farm in Abu Dhabi. One day, while Bob was socializing with his favorite and most prized Himalayan-Tibetan Llama, Edna, a massive, unidentified, flying, chrome object suddenly plummeted out of the clear blue Abu Dhabian sky! "AAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!!!!!" cried Bob, and leapt towards Edna for safety (as Melvin, the God of Beer was not available at the time). "HOLD ME!!" he shouted as the massive, unidentified, flying, chrome object crashed into the llama corral. (*NOTE*: NO llamas were harmed during the making of this story...this was all special effects.) But, as Edna was a llama, she had no arms and was unable to comfort the poor, distressed Mr. McLugie, who thumped rather ungracefully to the Abu Dhabian earth instead. (*NOTE*: NO McLugies were harmed during the making of this story either...he has a stunt double named Kevin who he doesn't pay nearly enough.) Brushing of his skirt, I mean, kilt, Bob got up and fought his way through the immense cloud of dust which, when it cleared, revealed... a WINNEBAGO!!!!!!!!!
"HOLY WOW!" shouted Bob, unable to believe his good luck, "Just what I always wanted! Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!" Edna, however, did not appear to share Bob's enthusiasm, and placidly began chewing on his perm, I mean, hair, but Bob was too intent on surveying his marvelous find to notice. On close inspection, Bob made an astounding discovery. "OH MY GOD!!!" said the amazed Bob to the grazing Edna, "THIS IS NO ORDINARY WINNEBAGO!!!!" He grabbed Edna by her Himalayan-Tibetan snout--"THIS is a BACK-TO-THE-FUTURE WINNEBAGO!!!!!" What luck!!!! Bob could only gape in wonder at the battered, ice-coated, chrome-plated relic. Edna eventually snapped him out of it when she indicated to him that he was cutting off the circulation to her nose, and Bob stepped forward and tried to yank open the frosty passenger's side door. All of a sudden it swung open and Bob leapt back in surprise as a cranky, slightly frostbitten individual appeared from out of the dark depths of the hypothermic interior.
"It's FRICKIN' COLD in there, Senor Hernando!!!" the figure exclaimed, squinting in the bright Abu Dhabian sunlight. Bob cowered behind Edna when he saw that this person was wearing a Pleather and iron getup and wielded a menacingly growling cactus— it was a Xena gone terribly wrong!!! "AAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!" cried Bob (for the second time in this story)
"Oh, sorry," apologized the Xena wannabe, "Hernando, take five." On cue the bristly cactus dropped to the ground and panted happily. "Greetings, O Bob-ly One," she said, "I am Shera- Bob ( no relation to any McLugies, by the way,) Defender of All in Need of Defending! You're assistance is required immediately! There is an innocent Roadie by the name of Cletus who is under the tyrannous wrath of the infamous Propypr VELVETTA!!!! You must come immediately!!!" Hernando the Attack Cactus growled in emphasis.
"Oh, NO!" cried Bob, who had a soft spot for Roadies in distress, "We must go at once!!! Come, Edna!!! To the Winnebago, Shera-Bob!!!" So, the menage-a-cuatro piled quickly into the Back-To-The-Future-Winnebago and, buckling their seat belts securely, counted down as the Winnebago do-hickeys hummed and grinded in preparation for warp drive. "TEN, NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN, SIX, FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO--" they all yelled, "OOONNNNNEEE!!!!!!" and shot off into the very near future (which was actually only a few seconds away).
They landed safely in the Kingdom of Mooselick, Alberta, where a ghastly scene greeted them! The evil Propypr, Velvetta, was mercilessly forcing poor, dejected Cletus to pick up thousands upon thousands of microphones that Velvetta knocked over again and again!!!! Bob was infuriated at the sight of this unbearable cruelty and shouted "AAAAGGGGGHHHH!!!!!" (for the third time) simply because he couldn't think of anything better to say. Shera-Bob stepped in for her temporarily mute companion and said quite plainly to the evil Propypr "Stop it you GIT!!!! That isn't NICE!!"
"It's his job!!" the Evil Propypr roared, "I OWN HIS SOUL!!!"
Unfortunately for the Mighty Warrior Shera-Bob and her minute, however fierce, military defenses, Velvetta was more than prepared for their attack and immediately began barraging the four Roadie Freedom Fighters with...really UGLY GRIMY OOZY fishing hats!!! "RUNAWAY!!" screamed Bob as Hernando bravely stood his ground and barked at the oozing onslaught. "Hernando!!! HEEL!!!" yelled the Mighty Shera-Bob, and the prickly plant matter obeyed. Edna, however, due to the shock of the nauseating state of the hurled fishing hats was frozen on her little hooves where she stood.
"MUUAAA HAA HAA!!!" Laughed the evil Propypr, "You are mine to toy with little Llama Person, hee hee hee!!!!" Luckily for Edna however, Bob had a large quantity of margaritas (virgin ones, naturally— Edna is underage) stowed beneath his skirt, I mean, kilt, and on producing one of the scrumptious treats, Edna was quick to bound back to the BTTF Winnebago. The bewildered, enslaved Cletus whimpered after them, "Where are you going? I was going to make ESPRESSO!!!"
After a hasty takeoff, Shera-Bob said to Bob (isn't that redundant?) "Holy cripes man, we are going to need some serious backup— that is ONE CRUSTY VOUCHO!!!!" Bob and Edna agreed. "Know anyone who could be our backup?" she asked Bob as they whipped through warp drive. Bob could think of no one!!! No wait! There was one HOPE!!! Super Pistachio Ashton Man!!! Yes!! THAT WAS IT!!!!!!
"STOP!! " yelled Bob. The Mighty Warrior stopped the Winnebago in its time flight and they hovered somewhere between the Renaissance and AntiPepper's weird disco club. "TURN LEFT AT INDIA!!!" He directed her. Shera-Bob popped the clutch and put the Winnebago into warp reverse. Within two seconds they had landed at the Holy Commune of Beer in Lower Shangri-La where they discovered Melvin attempting to levitate a 6 pack outside the gates of the Commune.
"Melvin! Dude!! Where's SPAM?!?!" asked Bob in a frenzy.
"Ooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmmm..."Melvin replied. Bob kicked him in the
head to get his attention. "WHAT?!?!" Melvin asked. "You just completely
encroached upon my AURA!!!"
"SPAM!! Where's SPAM!?!?!"
"We're vegans, you reject!!!"
"NO! Not the spam!!! The SPAM!!!"
"Inside," Melvin replied and went back to levitating the 6 pack.
Rushing into the Commune, the four Roadie Freedom Fighters
discovered that SPAM was chasing a gigantic sized turkey around the swimming
pool with the sharpened end of a Vic Firth screaming "DIE WICKED EVIL SCOURGE
OF THE EARTH!!!!!!!" at the top of his lungs. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO EVER DRINK
MY BEER!!!!"
Well, needless to say, the four Freedom fighters were relatively horrified and took action immediately (after all, Roadies aren't the only ones that deserve to be liberated!). It was just before SPAM (Super PSYCHO Ashton Man) was about to frenziedly slash the turkey, that Bob decided SPAM was unfit to join them on their quest to free Cletus. So, with the help of Edna, Bob pried the pointy, jagged projectile from SPAM's shaking hands, slapped a straight jacket on him and threw him in the Commune's basement with Dank, the indentured fiddler and Shelly, his Caribbean companion.
(Hernando, upon seeing Shelly's lovely and vivacious fronds, vowed to rescue her from the cold and lonely basement, however, that is another story...)
The turkey whom Bob and Edna had rescued was very grateful. In return for Bob's brave deed it offered him some sound, and very logical advice.
"Hey MAN!!!" exclaimed the turkey, "I am, like, sssssooooo in debt to you!!!! So like, dudesy, like here's some, like logical and sound advice. Like, man, NEVER run into walls with your head cause it HURTS and never EVER drink and drive if you need your roots done, man." Bob however, at a later date completely forgot the turkey's advice...ANYWAY...the turkey continued "Man, if you like EVER need ANYTHING...like call my chick at this number, she's like a Goddess and Stuff." With that, the like, turkey handed an astonished Bob a business card and then meandered off into the nearest wall, knocking himself out cold. "What a strange person, " Bob, thought and read the business card aloud:
TWIG: TINWHISTLE GODDESS,
GUARDIAN OF THE MAC.
OPEN FOR BUSINESS 24/7
ALL BTTF WINNEBAGOS PLEASE STOP AT:
Winnebago Entrance 5, route 95 on Goddess Isle.
Shera-Bob gasped as she read over Bob's shoulder. "That's my cousin!!!" She shrieked, awakening the unconscious turkey who lay in a puddle of drool on the pavement, "Twig can give us all the backup we need!! She's the Guardian of THE MAC!!!!"
"What the hell is the MAC??" asked a confused Bob.
"The MAC is the MAC DADDY OF ALL MARKERS and holds 70 times as much power as any regular Sharpie!! It's magical ink powers can be called upon only by Twig and can be harnessed to defeat Propypr!!"
"Yeeaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!!" crooned Bob, "Let's go!!!!" and the four galloped back to the BTTF Winnebago, passing Melvin on their way out, followed only by SPAM's spastic shrieks, Dank's tapdancing on the basement floor, and Shelly's pining sonnet recitations for Hernando. Speeding away through time, the four Roadie Freedom Fighters continued on their crusade.
The Winnebago landed with a thump in Entrance 5 on Goddess Isle, and they climbed out to find Her Holiness, Twig, seated upon their Winnebago's roof.
"We come to beg the assistance of the MAC!!!" Bob pleaded. Twig looked annoyed.
"HERE!! JUST TAKE THE FRIGGIN' THING!!!!!" She shouted around a mouthful of cream soda, "USE IT'S POWER WISELY AND RETURN IT WITHIN FOUR HOURS OR I'LL GIVE YOU A WEDGIE SO BAD YOU'LL HAVE TO PICK IT OUT THROUGH YOUR SINUSES!!!! NOW BEGONE!!" and Her Holiness lobbed a gigantic Magic Marker at Bob's head (who ducked just in time), and promptly disappeared in a puff of smog shortly thereafter.
After acquiring the Mac Daddy of all Markers, the four Roadie Freedom Fighters returned to the Kingdom of Mooselick, Alberta, where a heroic battle for the soul of Cletus ensued!! By the power of the Mac, the evil Propypr, Velvetta was successfully boxed into tiny, cramped, cardboard quarters and shipped to Iceland, sealed by the magic of the Holy Marker, whose ink inscribed the Propypr's fate on the side of his corrugated prison. (Well not really...Actually, Shera-Bob bribed Velvetta off with a pint that they had stolen from Melvin during his levitation experiments in lower Shangri-La, in a trade for Cletus's soul, so it was all good, and everyone was happy.) And thus the Roadie, Cletus, was liberated, left free to make Espresso for anyone he chose.
THE END
(This has been yet ANOTHER Attempt at Acheiving Bobness by Twig and Urchin)
Note from the Authors: Super Pistachio Ashton Man was released from the depth of the Commune's basement soon after his fiasco with the turkey due to a successful psych evaluation and a court ruling that decreed beer filching a wholly illegal and immoral act, reprimandable by capital punishment in Lower Shangri-La. Therefore, the inebriate fowl was doomed to SPAM's Thanksgiving feast. But SPAM, being a strict vegan after all, merely condemned him to a life of sobriety in the Commune. SPAM's sharpened drumsticks were kept as evidence. However, all charges of attempted bird-slaughter were dropped almost immediately, because the judge himself had a weak spot for Stout, and sympathized completely.
A Note from Lids, the High Holy Goddess of Bobishness: I do believe that Twig and Urchin have achieved Bobness. Yes. Twig, Urchin, Quest for Bobness that you were on is over. You have reached the Ultimate Bob.
In Bob We Trust,
~Lids!~
