Hack & Slash Gibberish http://www.rbcorner.com/cgi-bin/eblah/Blah.pl? http://www.eblah.com en Fic: The Life and Times of Gonzo the Great http://www.rbcorner.com/cgi-bin/eblah/Blah.pl?m-1275935161/ http://www.rbcorner.com/cgi-bin/eblah/Blah.pl?m-1275935161/#num1 Eggs to be a one-shot, but you know how that goes.  The story keeps on after I think I'm done.  So I'll put the rest of it here in the form of vignettes from the Great Gonzo's early life.

Umbrella disclaimer: Gonzo is copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC and is used without permission but with much respect and affection.  This story is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9@aol.com).  Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.

*****

Boxcar Gonzo
by Kim McFarland



The alarm buzzed softly.  The boy opened his eyes to darkness and squinted at the clock.  3:00 AM.  He pressed the button on the top of the clock to shut the alarm off.

Tired as he was, he got out of bed without hesitation.  He was already in his clothes.  He had been thinking about this for weeks, and several days ago he had decided that tonight would be the night.

He unzipped his backpack and took out his schoolbooks.  He would have had to turn them in soon anyway, he knew.  He had been in more schools than grades, he had been moved around so much.

He opened drawers and took out clothing.  Jeans, shirts, an extra pair of shoes - all the sturdiest stuff he had, except for what he was already wearing.  These he put into large ziploc bags, then pressed them flat before sealing them.  That made it easier to store them in his backpack, and would keep them dry.

He left behind the nicer, newer clothes.  He never lacked for new clothes.  Every family bought him things they thought he would like to wear.  It always started out like that.  They really did mean to be kind, he knew.  But somehow...

He chopped the thought off and stuck several pairs of socks in the sides of his backpack.  That filled up most of the extra space.  There was only a little bit at the top, and the small outside pockets.  There were other things he would have liked to take, but they were too large or heavy and would slow him down.  So, he only put a harmonica in the outside pocket.  Atop the plastic sacks holding his clothes he placed a small stuffed bird.  He paused briefly, then closed the zipper, shutting it safely away.

He put on a denim jacket, slung the backpack over his shoulder, and walked quietly out of his room and down the short hall.  Nobody else in the house was awake.  He took the ring of keys from the hook beside the door, let himself out, locked the door again, then pushed the keys back in through the mail slot.


It was late spring.  Insects buzzed to each other in the warm night.  Maybe small animals moved in the grass beside the road; if they did, he didn't notice them.  He had too much on his mind.

He didn’t like to think about how many families he had lived with in the last six years.  He had been found, an unidentified child, at a farm.  Nobody had claimed him, nobody had been able to find out who he was or where he had come from.  Even he himself did not know; he had been healing from a concussion and broken bones when he had come to within a henhouse, and he had no memories of his own past.  The chickens had found him after a storm and taken him in.  They had been kind creatures, with no expectations of him except that he survive, and did not care what he was.  They had warmed him and fed him, treating him with the same care they showed their own chicks, just because.

But then he had been found, and anyone could see that the small, blue-furred, hook-nosed creature was not a chicken.  He had been designated a Monster.  He was sure he wasn’t, because he looked like none of the other Monsters he had seen, but he had no better idea what to call himself.  He had wanted to go back to the farm after he healed, but the farm’s owners didn't want a foundling, and the chickens weren't in charge.  Instead, he had been placed with a foster family of "his own kind"—Monsters—to take care of him until his real family was found.

That had been six years ago.  He now knew that had no real family.  Nobody had claimed him, either as their born or adopted child, and nobody would.  He was too strange to fit in anywhere for long.  He didn't think like other people.  He was scrawny and weird-looking.  He no longer tried to warm to people who, he had come to understand, would eventually send him away.  And so, without unkind words he would be taken back, then placed in another home.  Over and over.

He saw it coming this time.  Just recently they had become a little too self-conscious around him, holding something back.  They would not tell him they were sending him back; that would be cruel. Much better to spare him the anticipation, they had thought, and of course save themselves guilt.  He could not face the prospect of being shuffled around yet again, and had decided this time to take control of his life.

His feet took him to a set of train tracks.  He followed them up to the train yard.  As he had expected, there was a train on the tracks now.  It had dozens of freight cars, mainly coal-filled hopper cars, tankers, and boxcars already loaded up.  He found an unlocked boxcar and climbed in.  He was small, and could hide in places that a human could not fit into.  Plus, his dark fur and clothes would merge with the shadows inside.

He climbed up on a platform of wooden crates that reached nearly to the ceiling.  From there he could not see the open doors, which meant that nobody would see him from the outside.  Good enough.  He set his backpack in the corner and leaned back against it.  Soon, despite the hard crate and musty smell, he fell asleep.

He awakened with a start when the sliding metal doors banged shut.  The locks clicked.  Soon a slow rumbling began.  The train was on its way.   He unzipped the top of his backpack and took out the stuffed doll.  It was a little yellow chick, one of the few possessions he had kept with him wherever he went.  It reminded him of the only time he remembered being loved.  He hugged it close as the train picked up speed.  He had no idea where it was bound.  That was fine.  As long as it took him away from the temporary homes, his life would be better.]]> Mon, 7 Jun 2010 14:26:01 Slackbot Muppet fic: Bein' Blue http://www.rbcorner.com/cgi-bin/eblah/Blah.pl?m-1275052343/ http://www.rbcorner.com/cgi-bin/eblah/Blah.pl?m-1275052343/#num1 Muppets From Space.  I wrote it to answer that one burning question that's on everyone's minds: where was Camilla during the movie?

*****

Bein’ Blue
By Kim McFarland



It was early afternoon, and Gonzo was finishing breakfast.  He wasn’t the only one; some of the others who lived at the boarding house hadn’t even awakened yet.  

It had been an exciting night.  Gonzo had been kidnapped by a secret government agency and nearly de-brained by their resident mad scientist.  Then he had been shot out of a cannon, and had come close to leaving Earth on his long-lost alien family’s spaceship.  He had made it through the experience unscathed, but otherwise it had been a perfect day.

Almost perfect, Gonzo thought as he gazed at the framed photos on the shelves next to the table.  Kermit and a few of his frog family.  Fozzie and his mother.  Miss Piggy and her two nephews.  Himself... alone in the distance on a beach on a cloudy day.  It was a sad, melodramatic picture.  And, Gonzo realized, it wasn’t right for him, not anymore.  He wasn’t alone.  He had two families.  One had come across space for him, and the other had rescued him when his desperation to find his origin had led him into peril.  Lonely?  Not with Kermit, Rizzo, Fozzie, Animal... Camilla.

Ouch.

Gonzo and Camilla had been together for years.  She was the hen of his heart.  But recently they had somehow drifted apart.  It amazed him to realize that he had lost interest in her during his identity crisis, just as he had lost interest in performance art.  Without his art and his chicken, what was he?  A melancholy, lonely weirdo.  Last night’s revelations had been a powerful catharsis and, he decided, he was finished with being lonely and depressed!

Later that day, Sam the Eagle – whose eyes looked a little red, as if he had not gotten enough sleep; there was an epidemic of that today – was leading a trio of hens in their daily workout.  Gonzo watched appreciatively from the stairway.  One of them was Camilla.  He could recognize her voice, though from the back he couldn’t tell which one she was.  Even after all these years, chickens still all looked alike; he recognized her by her voice and the way she acted.  All three were lovely, poultry in motion.

When they finished they filed up the staircase.  Gonzo smiled and said, “Hello, ladies!”

All three stared at him briefly.  Then they exchanged looks and filed past him.  They went to the balcony in which they roosted and settled into their boxes to rest and preen, and pointedly did not give him a second glance.

“That could have gone better,” he murmured to himself.


Gonzo tapped on the door of the balcony.  “Can I come in?”  He heard a grumbling cluck, and opened the door.  “Thanks.”

The three hens were in their boxes, looking at him silently.  He sat down so he could see them eye to eye.  “I hope you don’t mind, girls.  I need someone to talk to.”

Two of them looked at him hard.  The third closed her eyes and scrunched down, her feathers puffing out as if she was going to take a nap.  He said, “For the past, I don’t know, coupla months I’ve been feeling kinda down.  Not kinda - really down.  I felt crummy and I didn’t know why.  I guess I still don’t know what started it.  I never minded being a ‘whatever’ before.   I always figured, I’m me, same as anyone else.  But somewhere along the line I guess I lost track of that.”  He shook his head.  “I felt rotten and I didn’t know what to do about it, so I didn’t do anything.  I got depressed and didn’t want to talk to anybody about it ‘cause I thought they’d laugh.  So I shut up and felt worse and worse.”  He sighed.

None of the chickens said anything.  He continued, “I guess that was my big mistake.  I felt all alone, but I wouldn’t have been alone if I hadn’t been the one pulling away.  I mean, where’d I be without all my friends?”  He chucked softly.  “I’m The Great Gonzo, stunt artiste extraordinaire.  How could I let myself get so messed up I forgot about the things that make life worth living? Where would I be without a stunt to do, friends to call an ambulance afterwards, and the most beautiful chicken in the world by my side?”

Two of the chickens looked at the third, whose expression had softened.  Gonzo leaned back against the balcony, looking upward at the side of the building and clasping his hands around his knees.  “When I think about it, I guess it seems kinda crazy.  Not the kind of craziness people expect from me, either.  But... you know, it turned out okay.  At least now I know what I am.  I’d rather be an alien from outer space than an almost-extinct freak.  There are lots of others just like me.  It’s nice to know that, you know, even though I couldn’t go back with ’em ’cause this is my real home.  Maybe it’s just so I can stop worrying about it and think about what’s really important.  And, well, wherever I came from, I’m still me.  You’re still you, Camilla... and I hope we’re still us,” he finished softly.  He held a three-fingered hand, palm up, out to the hen who had feigned disinterest.

She looked at it, then up at his face.  He met her gaze.  “Camilla?  What do you say?”

She clucked softly and touched his hand with her wing.

“Aw, thanks, honey.  C’mere,” he said, holding his arms out to her.  With a flutter of her wings she hopped out of her nest and over to him.  He hugged her, his fingers running through her warm feathers, and whispered, “I’m sorry, babe.  I love you.  I’ll never shut you out again.”

The other two chickens exchanged glances and said together, “Awww.”

She answered him by rubbing her beak against his blue-furred cheek.  Then she drew back and pecked him.  He startled and exclaimed “Hey!”

She pecked him several more times on the shoulder and chest.  He flinched and held up his hands as if to defend himself, but did not try to push her away.  Grinning, he said, “Hey, save it for later!”

She clucked agreement, causing the other two hens to exchange glances again.  Gonzo asked, “Why don’t we go out now, just you and me?”  She nodded.  He got up and held the balcony door open for her.


Gonzo and Camilla were not seen at dinner that day.  By the time they came back people had settled into their usual evening activities: playing poker, watching TV, jamming on various musical instruments, and causing minor explosions in the basement.  When Rizzo the Rat saw Gonzo he said, “Where you two been?  On a hot date, hey-hey?”

“Something like that,” Gonzo said amiably.  Camilla fluttered up the stairs, and Gonzo went into the dining room.  While the card players made their bets he took the back off of the beach picture and slid a strip of film in front of it.  It showed a sequence of four pictures, taken in a photo booth, of him and Camilla mugging for the camera.  With a nod of satisfaction he put it back in place.

*****

Gonzo, Camilla, Rizzo, and all other characters mentioned are copyright © The Muppets Studio, LLC and are used without permission but with much respect and affection.  This story is copyright © Kim McFarland (negaduck9@aol.com).  Permission is given by the author to copy it for personal use only.]]> Fri, 28 May 2010 09:12:23 Slackbot Fic: Alien invasion called on account of rain http://www.rbcorner.com/cgi-bin/eblah/Blah.pl?m-1274900098/ http://www.rbcorner.com/cgi-bin/eblah/Blah.pl?m-1274900098/#num1
*****

Eggs
by Kim McFarland


It was a dark and cloudy night. In the middle of a scrubby prairie rested a spherical spaceship, like an Easter egg in a grayish nest. Its gaudy lights filtered through the nearby grasses and cast needles of color into the darkness.

Small shapes moved within the pool of light surrounding the landing craft. The inhabitants of the ship were investigating this newly-discovered planet. Because it was already occupied, as evidenced by broadcast emissions and the city lights visible from low orbit, the aliens had elected to visit a sparsely-inhabited section of the world at a time when the natives were unlikely to be about. They gathered air and soil samples and took images of the surrounding land. Up above, crews from the mother ship were inserting a relay satellite into a stable orbit. This was an interesting world, one they would want to watch–but from a distance, to avoid upsetting its inhabitants.

One alien was herding two dozen smaller ones. Children, who had never felt soil beneath their feet or breathed air that had not been purified by a spaceship's filters. She had a difficult task in keeping these nestlings from scattering. They were curious and fearless, as all children were; they would be taught caution when they were old enough to understand the need. At least they would stay close to the ship, in the light, where they could see.

Two children jumped back, startled, when a creature burst into the air with a great noise from the ground at their feet. It flapped great flat limbs as it flew into the darkness. A girl with aqua-colored fur exclaimed, "It came from nowhere!"

The other, a boy with purplish fur, was looking down where it had been. Grass stems and leaves were bent outward. On the ground below was a small platform made of plant material, with several small, pale ovoids resting within. He said, "It has eggs."

"Oh!" she said. Both stepped away.

Their minder said, "That was a bird. She was hiding with her eggs. You frightened her."

"I wasn't going to hurt her. I didn't even see her," the girl protested.

"She didn't know that. She is only an animal. Come away from there so she can return before her eggs get cold."

The children followed her obediently. Eggs were important, they knew. Everyone hatched from eggs. It would be cruel to harm these eggs by preventing their mother from tending them.

"Why was she afraid?" a dark blue-furred boy asked.

The minder replied, "On worlds like this animals must find their own food. Some animals eat smaller animals. That's how it is on planets."

Some of the children made faces of revulsion. The minder hid a smile. Though most of their race lived on spaceships, they had originally come from a planet similar to this, and they wanted to remember that heritage, even though they had left their home world so long ago they no longer knew where it was. So they brought their children down to the planets they visited, to let them see the sky and get dirt between their toes.

Something struck her nose lightly. She glanced up, and blinked when a drop of water hit her eye. The others, both adults and children, looked up. The adults, who had known that a storm was likely, began setting up a device to collect rain samples. The children, after their initial surprise, began to play in the rain. They did not mind getting wet, especially not with the novelty of water falling from the sky. Fur and clothing would dry, after all, and mud would wash off.

The children were all having the times of their lives. They had been told about worlds, but actually seeing one was more amazing than they could have imagined. There were things here like nothing they had ever seen on their ship. Alien animals and plants. Wind and rain! Where did it all come from? The land went on forever, without a bulkhead in sight! One, the dark blue boy, wandered to the edge of the pool of light. But there was no real edge, he found; the light was gradually filtered through the grass until it became scattered and blurred. The grass was waving hard now, and the wind was making noise like a large machine. It sounded angry, he thought. But wind couldn't be angry; it was just air moving. He squinted into the direction the wind was coming from, trying to see what was causing it. What he saw was a slender tendril of cloud, barely lighter than the surrounding darkness, descending toward the ground, waving as gently as grass in a light breeze. Intermittent flashes of light within the clouds above lit it up. He crouched down to avoid the wind and watched, his eyes adapting to the dark so he could see the storm better.


The ship suddenly began emitting a loud tone. Everyone looked up, startled, at the alarm. The technicians hastily finished their tasks and returned to the ship. They had planned to stay longer, but the storm had suddenly and unexpectedly turned violent. Now a column of spinning wind was roaming the land, and it was intense enough to endanger the landing craft. The minder, recognizing the threat, began shouting to the children, calling them back.

They were reluctant to obey her summons. They did not understand the danger; they had never experienced any kind of uncontrolled weather until today, and had never heard of tornadoes. They dawdled, wanting to watch the spectacular, strobe-lit display as long as they could.

One of the techs within the ship shouted, "It's coming too close! We have to lift now!"

The minder and two other techs darted down the gangplank and into the harsh wind. They carried or dragged those who were having trouble fighting the wind. When they had filled the airlock with all the sodden, muddy-footed children they find, the minder looked out once more. No others were visible within the ship’s light. She closed the outer door, then tapped a communication panel and said, "Take off!"

As the roar of the ship's drive started, the minder told her charges, "We don't have time to get to the chairs. Lie on the floor!" She did so, and the children followed suit. They knew that tone of voice; now was not a time to hesitate or ask questions. Something very bad was happening. Soon they felt a pressure as the ship lifted into the air.


The boy tore his eyes away from the twisting cloud when the light from the ship winked out. The howl of the wind outshouted the sound of the landing craft's engine as it rose up and disappeared into the swirling, turbulent clouds. They had left him behind!

For the first time in his young life he tasted real fear. They had left him on this planet! Were they fleeing the cloud thing? Was it dangerous? He decided quickly to hide like a bird, to keep safe until they came back. He crouched down in the grass, his heart hammering, and kept very still.

It worked for a while. The wind howled and flung debris at him, and rain and hail pelted him, but he stayed down. Then the wind picked him up and flung him into the rainy night.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a wet, bleak morning. The tornado had torn a worm-trail of destruction across the land. Fortunately it had not hit any of the few scattered farmhouses, but the crops were in poor shape.

Cattle and horses were let out of their barns to graze on the wet grass. Chickens peered out of their coops, then came out for their food. Their usual allotment had not appeared on schedule, so they spread out to forage.

One hen squawked in surprise and alarm. All heads turned to look at her. When she did not flee, the other clustered closer to see what she had found. They saw a strange storm-blown beast. At first they thought it was a bird, as it had what looked like a beak and blue feathers. But it had no wings, and it was wearing torn clothing. There were red stains on the ground around it and in its matted fur. Yet, surprisingly, they could see that it was breathing. One of the hens listened to its chest and heard a clear, steady heartbeat.

She clucked quietly to herself. It was small, maybe half the size of a chicken. Its beak, though curved, was not sharp, and it had no claws or fangs. It was not a predator, thus no danger to chickens. After a long, thoughtful pause she clucked to the others, then seized part of its clothing in her beak. Several others grasped other parts of its clothing, and they half-dragged, half-carried it into their coop.

Once inside, then set it on a pile of straw. It left smears of blood, but it was not bleeding now. It might live. Two of the hens settled down, one on each side of it, puffing out their feathers to warm it.]]> Wed, 26 May 2010 14:54:58 Slackbot My Alien Roommate http://www.rbcorner.com/cgi-bin/eblah/Blah.pl?m-1273494763/ http://www.rbcorner.com/cgi-bin/eblah/Blah.pl?m-1273494763/#num1


He doesn't take up that much space or eat a lot, as he's a little fella, and I haven't had any allergic reactions yet.]]> Mon, 10 May 2010 08:32:43 Slackbot 2012: Gotta Catch Em All http://www.rbcorner.com/cgi-bin/eblah/Blah.pl?m-1272932407/ http://www.rbcorner.com/cgi-bin/eblah/Blah.pl?m-1272932407/#num1 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=emS4pCcr2-c

As you can guess, it's about Pokemon and the 2012 conspiracy. I submitted this movie into the BC Student Film Festival and won 3rd place in the Promotional catagory. Overall this movie took about 8 hours to make (which isn't a lot compared to other movies I've made)

Enjoy.  ]]> Mon, 3 May 2010 20:20:07 Saboooom