The WOTPP's Tale !

So to the party came...... and a great time was had by all, except for a crotchety old curmudgeon, who sat in a corner carping about everything under the sun. But, no one paid him any mind, because that is how curmudgeons have fun.

<Meanwhile, in the wilds of Oklahoma, a Squid sat at its desk, tentacles flailing away at a keyboard while it listened to an old Eurhythmics album. Oh, yeah!>

:mult:

Quote:

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Originally Posted by El_Squid

You piqued my interest in the other WOTPPs with your posts, but have not had much success in digging up any further data. Admitedly, I have only made cursory searches, but will dig more seriously later. All knowledge, especially on rare or esoteric subjects, is good! :)

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Seems like a year ago don't it? :grin:

Sophie could have had her plumbing fixed by 'clickhere' :grin:

http://forums.windrivers.com/showthread.php?t=77760 :flames: :wave:

Sophie's plumbing, oh don't remind me !!

As an aside, memories too clear of having to drink loads for outpatient's appointment, hurry up, get me done .. then having not to drink anything for inpatient appointment, hurry up, get me done !

And having read on another site, that people in America have been suffering from wind ...

One can only hope the Prehistoric Planet will be saved from such weather freaks ... and that the sun will shine, soft breezes blow and the sky will be for ever blue.

Then the crotchety old curmudgeon, otherwise known as Hecticosporus, glared at everyone and said....

and said, "Enjoy it while it lasts, with yer silly caterwailing and carrying on! Ye'll be weeping again, soon enough." And a craggy, somewhat frightening, smile barely cracked the harsh features of his leathery face. The mere thought of the pending doom, which awaits us all, was enough to brighten the old curmudgeon's day to a resplendent gloomy gray.

"Ah, your cat's mustache!" quipped wee Tommy, as he quaffed a pint of Harps. "You're as charming as a festering boil on monkey's arse!"

Then, a pack of howling hounds bounded in, stage left, with a large, rosted turkey in the slavering jaws of the lead dog.

"Damn you, Bumpus!" came a mournful yell from the outside.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by El_Squid

Then, a pack of howling hounds bounded in, stage left, with a large, rosted turkey in the slavering jaws of the lead dog.

"Damn you, Bumpus!" came a mournful yell from the outside.

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:grin:

http://www.starz.com/features/christmasstory/

Quote:

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Originally Posted by El_Squid

Then, a pack of howling hounds bounded in, stage left, with a large, rosted turkey in the slavering jaws of the lead dog.

"Damn you, Bumpus!" came a mournful yell from the outside.

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Then Sophie espied the large, roasted turkey and said, 'I have something to tell you all, I'm a vegetarian' and she lunged towards the howling dogs, grabbed the lead dog (with her leather glovved hands) and wretched the turkey from his jaws and looked at it sadly, for the turkey was dead. She dug a simple grave and had a little burial service for the poor turkey.

She stood hands on hips facing the howling hounds ...

They glared at her and said...

Ruff, ruff, ruff! Growl! Whine, whine, whine! :p

As everyone in the canine world knows, 'Ruff, ruff, ruff! Growl! Whine, whine, whine!' means 'What a whacko woman, taking a perfectly good if somewhat salivaaed turkey and putting it in the ground like that!'

Bumpus himself thought, 'Oh well, I'll just dig it up later. I wonder though if that will start rumours about necrophylic dogs?'

So, the canine caperers trotted off to steal a cherry pie. And Sophie eventually got tired of standing by the grave of a previously dispatched fowl and she herself headed off, muttering.............



.

necrophylic dogs? BwaHaHaHa! :grin:

Bumpus crept back in the dark of night, checking whether it was the darkest part of the night and started digging, earth was flung in every direction as he searched ... the turkey had gone.

He dug another hole ... no turkey.

He threw his tail up in the air and dug another hole further along ... no turkey.

He had a panicked, glazed look on his face, 'where did it go?' he woofed.

Sophie was peeping through a dense bush.

Then...

As an aside - JK Rowling has amassed a
£540m fortune from writing -
wonder what we'd get for this thread?

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mags

As an aside - JK Rowling has amassed a
£540m fortune from writing -
wonder what we'd get for this thread?

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OLDER! :grin:

Then..., the turkey appeared, or rather, a glowing orange, phatasmagoric turkey floated in, trailing ectoplasmic tendrils and moaning, like an off-key chorus of the damned, performing an off-Broadway production of Les Miserables. Bumpus leaped back, terrified, lost control of his bowels, then ran off, howling pitieously. Sophie was rooted to the spot behind the bushes in sheer horror. The Ghastly Ghostly Turkey drifted in her direction.

"I am the Spirit of Fowls Past!" the apparition intoned. "Fear my Gobbles of Doom!"

"I.i..i..f..f.f.f you waste good eating Turkey ever again dear Sophie yo.o.o.o.u will be put in a hole in the ground to be munched by worms." it utters in a deep cosmic voice. 'And see how you like it." he adds like a second grade child. then back to his other world voice he continues, "W.e.e.e.e tur.ur.ur keys have been born to grace the dinner table at Christmas" and with more angry emphasis he adds,"and you stole that honour from me," followed by a normal voice, " even if it was a dogs table."

Sophie gets suspicious and wonders who it is doing all this talking because she notices that the turkeys mouth isn't even moving. She lays odds with herself that it is ..