Some Heart-Warming Stories
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Me and my stories


You might have read on one of my random pages that I am very morbid, cynical, and pensive. Add to that list: "ingenius writer" and "modest" (har har har) and here's what you get. You guessed it, it's a bunch of weird, cool, and (I think) twistedly well-written (unlike the rest of this website) stories. The U in Uberpixies used to have the two dots over it, but the encoding does not like it, so now it's just a capital U. Note that "Jolly Pirate" is yet another one of my aliases.

  The Uberpixie Chronicles. Prepare to be weirded out.

The Uberpixie Chronicles
by Jolly Pirate

Gnome Kingdom

 Underneath our feet is a small kingdom of vicious gnomes. Most people know it, but they refuse to believe it. They live in small, muddy tunnels. At night you can hear their thumping as they try to find ways into your house. Most of us dismiss this as the floorboards creaking, but we all know deep inside that the gnomes are coming to get us.  Many oldwives tales have more truth than you may think. For instance, some superstitiously believe that if you walk under a ladder, you will have bad luck. Well, it turns out that every Tuesday night at 11:48 PM; gnomes have a religious dance under the ladder. Walking under the ladder destroys theunderground tunnels they use for the ceremonies. One of my friends, Beill [That is not a sic], was found stabbed to death by sewing needles after he walked under six ladders in a row. The doctors said it was a horrible accident, but we all know it was the gnomes. One thing you should know about the gnomes: they have an enemy. Their eternal archrivals have always been the Uberpixies, small invisible fairies who are allies of muck rats. To this day, scientists have never been able to explain what exactly a muck rat is.  They have a habit of eating discarded candy wrappers and living in polluted rivers. However, they have been known to eat people when they are hungry enough. Anyway, the Uberpixies were at one point led by the evil doctor Mr. Haha. The story goes that Mr. Haha used the Uberpixies as slaves so he could complete his evil project of genetically modifying muck rats. In a complicated chain of events started by a boy named Willard, Mr. Haha was overthrown by the Uberpixies. After Willard's sewer rat was abducted by aliens, the Uberpixies made Willard their leader.
 The moral of the story is: if you walk under a ladder and fear being killed by vicious gnomes, look for the boy named Willard.


History of the Uberpixies
Formerly known as The Boy

The boy lived in a bad neighborhood. Bands of drunken hobos beat him every night. He cried all the time. He had no friends. Everybody ignored him. This was the boy named Willard. He knew the word ostensible.  It meant: outwardly appearing as such; seeming. Willard used the word ostensible in every sentence he spoke. He really annoyed everyone.  One day the biggest baddest kid from the biggest baddest gang from the biggest baddest slum in the whole town walked up to Willard and punched him. This made Willard sad. Willard had a little dog named Arfy. When Willard was little, he had accidentally poked Arfy's eye out with a pool stick while he was a big bad drunken hobo, who was armed with a battle-axe.

Arfy always wore a patch over his eye now, but he didn't use to. The wound was really gory and everybody who saw it almost puked. One day his teacher made Willard put a patch over Arfy's eye because they were studying pirates in school. Arfy was Willard's only friend. Everybody else was his enemy. One day, Arfy got run over by a car driven by Kuku, a local idiot. For a while, Willard had no friends because Arfy was in the emergency room getting 800 stitches. Willard's evil parents made him pay for every single one of them, which cost somewhere around $1,000. Willard had to work for a year to pay off the debt, which was hard because he got fired once a week for using the word ostensible too much.
       One day when Willard went to school, he saw a rat named Miranda. He knew her name was Miranda because his schizophrenia told him so. Willard's alter ego told him to go pet the rat in case it felt sad or had rabies or lice or bubonic plague or some horrible disease that made all the other rats ignore Miranda.  Willard tried, but Miranda scampered away to a small hole from which a greenish, pungent gas was slowly drifting.  The teacher yelled at Willard for being bad because it was sit-quietly-at-your-desks-doing-nothing-time. All Willard could say was that it was ostensible that Miranda needed a friend. Then the teacher, whose name was Ms. Meannenheimer, sent Willard for being annoying. Instead Willard

went to the bathroom and cleaned up the poop in his sleeve, where Arfy had been hiding from the teacher. Now Arfy was sitting in the sink that he had managed by himself to fill up with water and swim around in.  After Willard got the muck off his shirt, he decided to

leave school.  Willard walked out of school. The principal saw him and tried to stop him, but he was so fat that all he could do was waddle pathetically after Willard. The principal was found five days later in a river. After extensive investigation, detectives concluded that the man had tripped and begun rolling along the street before being hit by a busload of Japanese tourists and flying into the polluted waterway. Most of his flesh had been eaten by muck rats. Scientists have yet to explain what muck rat is. They know that they are found in extremely dirty water and have a ravenous appetite for candy wrappers. Most locals in the town where Willard lives throw their candy wrappers in the river where Willard lives in order to keep the muck rats satisfied enough so that they will not seek human flesh, which they are fond of. As Willard walked down the highway he thought to himself, It is ostensible that I have never walked on a highway before. I think I shall try it today. Both the soaking Arfy and Willard's alter ego agreed with this idea. Arfy also peed on Willard's shirt.  So Willard started walking on the highway. However, he did not get very far. As he was looking in the distance at a strange piece of debris that looked like a UFO in the right lane of the highway, he tripped on a funnily shaped rock on the side of the highway. He fell on the highway and was run over by a semi-truck carrying spoiled lemons that was going well over 100 miles per hour. Small invisible fairies called ط§â€¢berpixies flew Willard into the river where he was eaten by muck rats. (Little did the detectives know that this was also how the principal had gotten into the river.) Arfy did not notice this and ran over to the debris, which really was a crashed alien spaceship. Unfortunately for Arfy, the aliens were watching it very closely and immediately abducted Arfy and took him to the planet of Oozlekaboozle.


As for the hobos, when they heard Willard was dead, they fled to Mexico and got jobs as Mexican streets weepers. (They thought Willard had died from them beating him.) However, when things got bad for the Mexican streets weeping business and the Mexican police got on the trail of the hobos, they tried to go back to the United States. They were about to make it across the border when a nerdy kid trying out the border patrol's infrared goggles spotted them. The border patrol shot on site, thinking the hobos were infamous drug lords, killing them all. A renegade group of Uberpixies working for the evil genius named Mr. Haha flew their bodies to Mr. Haha's lab, where he fed them to a genetically enhanced version of

the muck rat. Mr. Haha did his trademark chuckle and then was killed by the renegade Uberpixies because he had denied them payment for quite some time. He was then eaten by the Uberpixies because he did not give them enough money to buy Uberpixie food.After the ط£إ“berpixies had killed Mr. Haha, they looked for a new leader.  ط£إ“berpixies always need a leader because they are always too busy making mischief to handle their own affairs.

 They searched for years looking for a leader, but nobody seemed interested in the job.  Finally, they asked the muck rats to be their leader.  While they did refuse, they suggested that Willard, who had somehow survived being gnawed on by muck rats.  After several moments of trying to comprehend what the Uberpixies asked him, he gave up and answered yes because he knew how to spell it.
The Uberpixies were overjoyed with their new leader Willard.  Willard just sat around looking important because he didn't know what to do.  This was all right since that was what being leader of the Uberpixies basically constituted.  The Uberpixies also asked the

muck rats to be their friends forever since they had found Willard, and they agreed so long as the Uberpixies provided them with candy wrappers.  This was fine with the Uberpixies since their food had to be disguised as candy in order to smuggle it across the border.

Meanwhile, on the planet of Oozlekaboozle, Arfy had also been faring well.  During painful genetic tests, the aliens discovered that Arfy's DNA matched exactly the DNA described as the perfect DNA in the Ummahummamoomoobook, the ancient tome describing how the aliens of Oozlekaboozle should live.  It said that if the being with the perfect DNA is found, he should be the leader of Oozlekaboozlians for eternity.  The aliens immediately granted Arfy immortality and sought to copy him in every way.  Unwittingly Arfy had created a wimpy alien civilization that all wore eye patches and lived in what appeared to be oversized shirtsleeves.  He also got himself eternal life and happiness.
      The moral of the story is:  use the word ostensible and see how far it will get you.

 


Miranda the Rat, a pivotal character in the Uberpixie chronicles. Notice that the invisible Uberpixie is not visible, although it is in the picture.

  Another cool/weird story I wrote (guess who has an obsession with 1984?):

A New World

 

 

 

The conspiracy had failed. All involved were doomed to die. They might evade the government for several months, but in the end, they would be caught. As the arsonists had crept up to the Chamber, a loud shout issued from the towering walls. They ran for cover, but it was too late. The arsonists met their deaths as screaming fire bullets rained down on them in an undodgeable volley. As the army of assassins waiting outside heard the noise, they ran for cover. Our Leader, as he was called, would not die today. Most of the assassins escaped to the shadows of the alleys between the newly constructed apartments commemorating the dead in the war being waged against West Canada. However, many met their deaths in the waiting jaws of the phylofosaurs, genetically engineered super beasts who guarded the Chamber. They could not only see perfectly well in the dark, but could also see hidden targets with their sensors in their bodies which could detect infa-red light. Of the planners and the rest of the assassins, they would be found eventually through an enormous manhunt.

Every citizen of the vast kingdom of Neo-Russia would be required to show up for a test. They would be put into a room in which was located a gigantic clock. Every 1.3 seconds, a frequency which is impossible for the human body to adjust to, the clock would emit a single tick. The walls were made of invincible plasma screens which showed a single hideously bloodshot human eye, which would blink in unison with the clock. A small, almost inaudible voice would continuously say, "We know what you did." Every citizen Neo-Russia would be subjected to this torture for five and one half days. The Method, as it was called, had a curious way of always finding guilty persons. Any citizen who did not show up for the Method would immediately be presumed guilty. A picture of their face would be sent to every camera in Neo-Russia. They would be instantly recognized, hunted down, and destroyed. Not many committed crimes in Neo-Russia.

            Some would try to escape to Kashistan, Neo-Germany, or even to the Euro-African Empire. However, this was usually impossible as well. Only the most loyal, tenured citizens and veterans were allowed to live anywhere near the border. The rest lived in the cold northern wastes, growing beets for one month of the year or working a crummy job in a broken down office. Three thousand miles is a long way for a fugitive to walk in Neo-Russia.

            Neo-Russia never re-adopted the old communist policies after the first Devastation of the American Easter seaboard. A curious mix of Democracy and Totalitarianism had evolved, much like the old Iraq, crushed years ago in UN/US campaign against the country's abuse of weapons of mass destruction. Anyone voting against Our Leader was considered a criminal and therefore destroyed. It was conceivable that even if Our Leader truly did exist (he had never been seen by any regular citizen of Neo-Russia), he would have been elected even if the vote was against him. After all, who could argue when the Island of Our Leader (formerly Novaya Zemlya) could not be gotten to without special government permits which were never granted? (Approval took anywhere from twenty-five to fifty years.) It was amazing that the arsonists and assassins had been able to slip past Neo-Russia's massive navy, numerous guards, phylofosaurs, cameras, and other security devices. Their deaths had resulted from enormous advances in technology since the Devastations.

            After rogue Russian generals had made a nuclear wasteland of some of the world's most populous regions (Indonesia, Southeastern Asia, Japan, and the US Eastern Seaboard, the Devastations), the world's structure immediately began to fall apart. The UN and various other alliances were crushed after the countries allied were either destroyed by nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons or besieged by such. Russia's government was quickly seized by the rogues, who promptly renamed the country Neo-Russia. They promptly began a massive imperialistic campaign, capturing all of Asia. Terrorists and other rogue organizations around the world saw their chance. Abu-Sayyaf in the Philipines, led by the prominent Commander Robot, FARC in Colombia, and pro-slavery rebels all formed their own countries. Venezuela and Uruguay, backed by the then still-existing and powerful-as-ever OPEC, staged a giant takeover of South America. Neo-Nazis exiled to Greenland rebelled and invaded Northern Canada. US and Canadian forces, robbed of their main cities and weapons, pulled back to the western United States and Canada, allying and forming the new country West Canada, leaving much of the Midwest and the remainder of the East a hopeless region of anarchy.

   Following its blitzkrieg-like takeover, Neo-Russia promptly reverted 95% of its economy into war products, hoping to further expand its massive empire into Neo-Germany and the Euro-African Empire. As a result, a rapid advance of technology in the war sector took place. New weapons such as fire bullets, large incendiary rockets that produced a shrapnel-hurling 20-foot fire ball when they exploded, and advances in genetic engineering ,such as the creation of the phylofosaurs, allowed Neo-Russia to dominate not only its enemies, but its citizens as well.

            A system of high-tech, facial recognition cameras was set up across the nation. Every citizen could be instantly tracked as soon as their file could be pulled up from the national database, which stated whether or not a person was wanted for a particular crime. Persons not listed on the database were immediately hunted down by the nearest Protector (law enforcement official) and arrested. Beepers on their suits alerted them of a nearby violator or alien.

            Because Neo-Russia was extremely strict with its laws, most people were reduced to unassertive, quiet, patriotic nobodies, fearing that some unknown law would have them arrested. Not many citizens knew what happened to people who were arrested. The people who this system produced were extremely depressed and gloomy. There was a quiet but eerily restless atmosphere wherever citizens of Neo-Russia could be found. It was truly a New World.


A New World Order. The map varies slightly from the description in the story, but the main ideas are still there.

  My twisted attempt at poetry

This is a wee poem I wrote. Its pretty strange.

Hominoid InVasion Syndrome

 

[Chorus]

Down in the evolutionary chain

Down in the bogs of hominoid failure

Drifting the march like a grizzled old sailor

And trapped in a cage was primate's bane

A wee little monkey near driven insane

 

The ages passed, the sands of time

Humanity grew, advanced and sublime

The winds of change blew over the world

The dance of fate twisted and twirled

And the the monkeys wait and stare at the sky

Some of the monkeys -  a tear in their eye

 

Trapped in the jungle like primitive beasts

Awaiting demise as humans come in

Chopping forests, monkey flesh feasts

Within their hearts began to stir

A burning fire of hatred and war

The monkeys revolt!

 

They fought brave and wild

Biting and tearing man, woman and child

But men are wise and thus they laugh

What do monkeys know about waging war?

Man and his weapons -

There be monkeys no more

 

But men forget what fools they can be

Glory plunder and killing -  that's all they can see

For out of the ruins, the ashes, the dust

Out of the death -  a monkey paw thrust

 

Arisen from ashes, derived of all hope

Wretched and wounded from battle

Pushing a stone on an upward slope

The last of a kind

Miserable offspring of a lost species

 

Pitiful spawn of the doomed, the failed

Whose forefathers fought against all odds

With the greatest gallantry, fortitude, and honor

But when have justice or good ever prevailed?

 

Lone roamer of the jungle

Who looks for revenge

None shall come to you

O forsaken afterthought of the fates

 

The eternal waves of time

Wash the footprints from the sand

Always unchanging

But for the wicked empire of Man

Until one day

Deep in the forgotten lair of a lost clan

Man ventures too far

 

A foolish butcher

A rotten chimp

Monkey sandwich anyone?

But the butcher - a pimp

Who could have guessed

The HIV imp

 

A wicked evil uncovered

Of anguish and affliction

Of the most horrible type

Lays man to his death

But only by his own failure

For man cannot resist the deadly hidden pleasure

And he dies out of ignorance

Apathy, greed, stupidity

 

The last laugh of the ancient monkey

Whose soul now rests in Destiny's lap

Taking control as she takes a small nap


Monkey War 2: Monkeys get Mean



You got scared after reading this stories. Call 1-800-PSYCHIC