Inspector Fred

(When we last left Fred, Jonathan had narrowly missed killing a puppy and the toque guy had taken off his toque which had exploded)

   A fiery inferno bellowed out and enveloped the car, but, surprisingly, did not harm it.  The fire died away, leaving the alley charred and smoking with Jonathan and Fred perfectly intact inside of the car.
   Jonathan smiled. “This car may not look it, but it’s completely explosion proof.”
   Fred snorted. “But it can still get beat up by fire hydrants?”
   “I can’t be expected to think of every contingency, can I?”
   Fred shrugged. “Guess not.  But try to explain the one that just blew up.”
   Jonathan’s smile turned smug. “Apparently the terrorist took off his toque.”
   Fred nodded.  “Of course he did.  I told you they use those things for everything.  Even bombs.  He probably has a spare that he’s now wearing.”
   Jonathan sighed. “Of course.” He stuck his phone back into his pocket. “Well the tracking system is no good anymore.”
   “Why not?”
   “Because now we don’t know if someone is wearing the toque we’re tracking or if it’s another bomb waiting for us.”
   “Oh.  Good point.”
   “Thank you.”
   Fred drummed his fingers on his leg. “In that case, now what?”
   Jonathan rubbed his stomach. “I’m not sure.  But I do know that I’m feeling a bit hungry.  I suggest we set up base at a hotel and,” he checked his watch. “Plan our next move over lunch.”
   “Good idea.”
   Jonathan backed out of the alley and a few minutes later they were outside a very nice hotel.  Fred looked up at it doubtfully.
   “I don’t think I have the cash for this place,” he said.
   Jonathan waved him off. “Don’t worry about it.  My treat, partner.”
   “Why thank you.”  Fred bowed. “After you.”
   Jonathan returned the bow, then walked inside to get their rooms.  Fred waited in the car, but after a little while he got bored so he got out of the car and went up to the hotel.  He glared at the automatic doors as he approached, but they opened promptly enough and he passed through without incident.
   He found Jonathan at the front desk arguing with the attendant.
   “What’s up?” he asked.
   Jonathan gestured to the attendant. “This fellow here says there are no open rooms.”
   The attendant was a nice looking young man.  Black hair, brown eyes, impeccably clean uniform.
   Fred patted Jonathan on the shoulder. “I’ll handle this.”
   He edged the older man out of the way and leaned over the desk gesturing for the attendant to do the same.
   “No rooms?” he asked, almost in a whisper.
   The attendant tilted his head forward. “What’s that, sir?” he asked in a completely British accent.
   Fred raised his voice a little. “I said, no rooms?”
   “Ah,” the attendant nodded. “That’s right.  No rooms.”
   Fred glanced around at the deserted lobby. “Not a single one?”
   The attendant shook his head. “No, sir. Not one.”
   Fred narrowed one eye. “You know what I think?”
   “I cannot begin to guess, sir.”
   Fred nodded slowly. “Of course not.  I think that you aren’t telling nothing but the truth, the whole truth, and the truth.  In other words, I think you’re spinning us a web of long yarns.  Tales that stretch way up into the sky.”
   The attendant was looking a bit confused.
   “Aha!” Fred exclaimed. “I can see I have you now.  And do you know what I think you’re up to?”
   The young man gave a small cough. “I shudder to think.”
   Fred gave a sharp nod. “You should.  I think you’re in league with the PEANUT terrorists!”
   Surprise showed clear on the attendant’s face, mingled with fear, but he didn’t say anything.
   Fred leaned in closer, so that his feet came off the floor, and lowered his voice again. “But, I also happen to know that you are not a willing accomplice.”
   Something akin to awe appeared on the attendant’s face and he also leaned closer. “How did you know that?”
   Fred shrugged and grinned. “A hunch.” He dove back into stern detective mode. “Which you just showed correct!  Don’t bother denying it.  I can see through you like Jell-O.”
   Instead of delivering the brilliant comeback he no doubt had ready, the attendant gave a small sigh and sank to the floor behind the desk.  Jonathan ran around and felt his pulse.
   “Don’t tell me he’s dead,” Fred groaned. “I hadn’t reached my epic conclusion!”
   Jonathan stood up, his face grave. “He’s dead.”

   To be continued…

Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum!

   Why is the rum always gone?  Whenever one picks up the bottle, it’s empty, always empty.  Either that or someone shoots the bottle just as one is about to take a swig.  Wait, I thought rum was combustible.  Why doesn’t it blow up when someone shoots it?  Oh…never mind.  It doesn’t blow up because whenever they shoot it the bottle is already empty.  Because, as we all know by now, the rum is always gone.  Except on one or two deserted islands.  There are still supplies there.  Unless some girl has gone on a crusade to get rid of all the rum.  “Vile drink” she calls it.  What does she know!?  I myself have never had rum, but I’m sure it’s very…rummy!  Haha, get it?  Rummy, yummy?  Oh, right.  This is about pirates and rum, not Scooby-Doo.  Don’t think I’m dissing Scooby though.  I love that dog.  He’s awesome.  Not as awesome as my dog, of course, but he’s still pretty awesome.  Now he just needs to learn to keep hold of the keys like that piraty dog.  Then he will go far in life.  Unless the heathen cannibals get him that is. 
   However!  I stray from topic.  Yes.  Believe it or not, there is a topic.  Can you guess what that is?  You got it one!  Or two…or three…  I hope you got it in one.  If you didn’t, that’s just sad. 
   The topic is all things piraty!  Or rum.  But since rum is piraty, it is included in the topic.  Random fact:  rum is supposed to be included in eggnog.  Tastes better when it isn’t though, amazing as that might be.  Random fact number two: rum is combustible.  In other words, if you put it with fire, it goes BOOM!  Oh wait, I already mentioned that one, didn’t I?  Ah well, doesn’t hurt to mention important facts like that twice, or even three times.  But I’ll refrain from telling you that rum is combustible a third time.
   Now, on to more piraty matters.  Like sharp, pointy objects!  Such as swords and spears.  No, spears are for cannibals.  Okay then, just swords.  A pirate needs two things.  A sword and a bottle of rum.  Without those, one cannot be called a pirate.  A man can have a sword, and a ship, and a crew, but he cannot be called a pirate if he has no rum.  And if a man has a boatload of rum, he cannot be a pirate without a sword.  Therefore, the man with the boatload of rum and the man with the sword and ship and crew should team up and become pirates! 
   There, now that that’s settled, we must move on to other important pirate stuff.  Like super shiny objects worth gads of cash!  Who wouldn’t want some of that?  But with pirates, it’s more than just a want.  It a necessity.  Without their gold, they can’t hold up their heads within the pirating community.  A pirate without his shiny stuff is scorned.  Unless he’s really good with a really big sword.  Then the other pirates will probably skip the scorning part and hide their shiny objects instead.  So, remember.  Rum and a sword make the pirate.  Shiny stuff lends the pride to his voice when he declares his piratness for all the world to hear.
   But, there is yet another thing that a pirate is in need of.  Mateys!  A good pirate needs his mates.  You can’t take on the world alone.  You need someone to watch your back.  You gotta have your pals, the ones you can always count on when you need them.  Who will never, ever, turn tail and run in the face of overwhelming odds.  Those who will always, every single time, without fail, hand you over to the enemy to save their own skins. 
   And those are the things that make a pirate seriously piraty.  Now you know everything you need to know about being a pirate.  So go be piraty!  Just don’t loot anything, or kill anyone, or do anything illegal like that.  Trust me, it'll be better for you overall if you refrain from those parts of the pirating life.  Before anyone asks...no...I do not speak from personal experience...

Dogs and Toques

(When we last left Fred, he had teamed up with Jonathan Toque to take down the PEANUT terrorists)

  Jonathan’s car was evidence of his big bucks.  It had all the newest technological upgrades, but more importantly, it was fast.  In no time at all they had caught up to the toque guy’s car, which, while it was nice, was nothing compared to Jonathan’s.
   “What now?” Fred asked as Jonathan slowed down to the toque guy’s pace.
   “I think we should keep following him,” Jonathan said. “He could lead us to the PEANUT HQ.”
   Fred nodded. “Good plan.”
   And it was.  For a little while anyway.  After a few more twists and turns, the toque dude’s car jerked forward and spun around a corner with a squeal of tires.
   “He’s onto us!” Fred yelled. “Don’t let him get away!”
   Jonathan hit the gas and squealed around the corner also.  The other car had a big lead, but Jonathan closed the gap with ease.  The toque guy cut corners, jumped curbs, and even drove into oncoming traffic once, but Jonathan stayed right on his tail. 
   Then, all of the sudden, “Look out for that puppy!” Fred screamed.
   Jonathan slammed the brakes and jerked the wheel.  The car skidded sideways.  A puppy yelped in surprised.  With a sickening thud the car slammed to a halt.  Fred opened his door and stumbled out of the car, tears in his eyes. 
   “We killed a puppy,” he sobbed. “A poor innocent puppy!”
   He looked up to see the toque guy’s car disappear around a corner. 
   He shook his fist in the air. “Are you happy now, you PEANUTs?  You caused this!  Shame on you!”
   Jonathan had also gotten out of the car, and now he came over and patted Fred on the shoulder.
   “What?” Fred asked. “Can’t you see I’m mourning this poor puppy?”
   Jonathan sighed. “What puppy, Fred?  We didn’t hit a puppy.”
   Fred sniffed and brushed away a few tears. “What do mean we didn’t hit a puppy?  I heard it yelp.”
   “We hit a fire hydrant,” Jonathan explained. “The puppy’s fine.  It just yelped because its owner jerked it out of the way so hard.”
   “Oh…” Fred swiped the remaining tears away. “Okay.”
   “Are you good now?”
   Fred took a deep breath. “Yeah.  I’m good.”
   Jonathan nodded. “Okay then.” He got back into the car, gesturing for Fred to do the same. “The car’s fine.  It just has a big dent in it.”
   Fred hopped in and Jonathan started driving again.  After a few seconds, a question occurred to Fred.
   “Where are we going?” he asked.
   “We’re still following the guy.” Jonathan held up his phone. “Remember?  Tracking device?”
   “Ah yes.” Fred smiled. “He can’t get away.”
   “Unless, of course, he takes off his toque,” Jonathan pointed out.
  “What?” Fred laughed. “A PEANUT terrorist take off his toque?  You must be joking.  They never part with their toques.  It’s almost a religion with them.”
   Jonathan shrugged. “Anything can happen.”
   Fred shook his head. “No.  Nu uh.  Anything but that.  A PEANUT terrorist without his toque is no longer a PEANUT terrorist.  Without their toques, they are nothing.”
   Jonathan sighed. “Yes, I know.  But if the situation calls for it, I do think he might take the toque off.”
   “No way.  Their toques aren’t just a symbol, you know.  Their toques are their handy dandy, all-purpose weapons that they use for pretty much everything.  It’s ingenious the way they use those things.  I’ve heard that they even used a toque once to conceal a biologically altered rat in a kitchen to poison thousands of people!”
   Jonathan raised an eyebrow as he pulled the car into an alley.  It was a dead end, but what was sitting waiting for them cause his eyebrow to go up even higher.
   “Whatever you’ve heard, I don’t think it’s quite accurate,” he said.
   Fred followed his gaze and his jaw dropped.  There, sitting on the ground in front of their car, was a toque.
   Which promptly exploded.

To be continued…

The End of the World (And Other Irrelevant Topics)

  Did you know the world is gonna end in 2012?  Seriously!  Hollywood made a movie all about it, a big ol’ motion picture, so it must be true.  Also, if you put some unrelated dates together, like 9/11 and the day they killed Osama Bin Laden, they amount to 12/21/12 (or something like that).  That’s gotta mean something, right?  It can’t just be coincidence.  That would just be weird.  These wacko additions that who knows who figures out have got to mean something.  When you put them all together.  Also, the Mayans said so!  At least…I’m pretty sure it was the Mayans.  Kinda weird how they just decided to stop the calendar right there on that date, huh?  Don’t the Mayans know that the year ends on 12/31/12?  They should’ve just finished the year and made it all nice and even. 
   However, I’m cool with it ending on 12/21/12, because the Dark Knight Rises comes out before then!  Wahoo!  That movie is gonna be awesome.  And I’m pretty sure the first part of the Hobbit comes out before then.  I’m looking forward to that one too.  So long as all the good movies come out before then, I’m good with it.  Wait!  No!  Monsters Inc. 2 comes out in 2013! Ah!  I so wanna see that.  I loved the first one.  Kitty!  Okay, never mind.  The world cannot end on 12/21/12.  Sorry Mayans, but that just ain’t happening.  I must have Monsters Inc. 2. 
   Okay, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get down to business.  Who got the memo that will tell me what exactly that business is?  No one?  Oh snap…  I guess I’ll wing it then.  Flap…flap…flap…
Forget winging it, I’m doing this the old school way.  In case you didn’t know, the old school way involves thinking of something to say, and then saying it.  Which is what I’m doing now.  Ain’t it wicked awesome?  Just like Ritz crackers!  Take a moment to think about it.  If Ritz crackers had not been invented, the world today would be a much sadder place.  Cheese and ham would have never gained the good and faithful friend that Ritz has become to them.  And so many other things would be worse off without Ritz crackers.  It makes me sad just thinking about it…
   So I’ll change the subject. 
   Christmas!  There’s a happy subject.  It’s all about good stuff and eggnog too.  I do like a good cup of eggnog.  If you don’t like eggnog…you should drink some anyway.  Oh hey!  Christmas is only six days away!  Who woulda thunk it?  And I still have presents to buy.  Oh snap…
   Okay, so, no more talk about Christmas.  Stress makes me sad also.  Stressing out over presents equals not good.  Y’hear that?  Do not stress out over presents.  You will damage some part of your being if you do.  Most probably a mental part, in case you were wondering.  It is possible that it won’t be a mental part though, which would be good.  But seeing as if it causes you physical damage it’ll probably be very bad, maybe mental damage is preferable.  However I really like my mind, so personally I would take the physical damage over the mental.  I don’t know about you guys.  Just don’t stress out.  That’s the answer.  Stress is bad.  It’s that simple.  No stress, happiness.  Lotsa stress, extreme sadness.  Cheeseburger…JOY TO THE WORLD!
   If I may divert your attention from that cheeseburger (I know, it’s tough) I would like to tell you about…something.  Now don’t start saying I took you away from the cheeseburger for no good reason.  I had a very good reason for taking you away.  I did.  I had one.  Honest to goodness.  It was around here somewhere.  There’s just one problem…the dog ate it!  She did!  I’m telling you!  I had a very good, logical, and incredibly interesting reason to take you away from that cheeseburger and the dog ate it.  Not the cheeseburger.  I would not still be here typing calming if she had done that.  No, she ate the reason I took you away from the cheeseburger.  Don’t ask me how, she’s just cool that way.
   Oh wait…I found it! 
   The reason I took you away from the cheeseburger is because…uh…I ate it…

Fred Meets a Friend

(When we last left Fred, he was lying flat on his back after being foiled in his attempt to follow the man in the toque)

   “Whoa there, young fellow!  You need to watch where you’re going.”
   A hand reached down and helped Fred to his feet.  When he was back up, Fred saw that the hand belong to an older gentleman.  His hair was a steely gray, where he had any that is, and he was big.  Six and a half feet tall if he was an inch. 
   “Thanks,” Fred said.
   The man smiled down at him. “My pleasure.  You really shouldn’t race around like that.”  He gestured to the automatic doors. “These things may be automatic, but they don’t hurry for anyone.”
   “Well they should,” Fred grumbled. “Big chases are always happening in airports.”
   The man raised an eyebrow. “Big chases?”
   “Yeah.  I was after this dude in a toque.  He stole my peanuts!”
   The man stifled a small gasp. “Not a member of the PEANUT terrorists?”
   Fred nodded grimly. “I’m pretty sure he was.”
   The old gentleman shook his head. “I’d be careful if I was you, young fellow.  The PEANUT terrorists are not to be trifled with.”
   Fred narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care.  I’ll take down the entire gang if I have to.  They can’t steal my peanuts and get away with it!”
   The man didn’t reply for a minute, then smiled. “Good for you.  To do so, though, you’d need someone with more experience.  Might I offer my services?”
   Fred looked him over critically. “You?  But, uh, no offense, you’re old.”
   The gentleman chuckled. “I may be a bit well on in years, but that just means I have more experience to share with you.”
   “What kind of experience?  I’m gonna get my peanuts back from a terrorist gang, this ain’t gonna be a walk in the park.”
   The man chuckled again. “Really?  And just how are you going to do that?  Do you have a plan?  Any sort of strategy?”
   “Sure!” Fred exclaimed. “I’m gonna find that toque dude and get my peanuts back.”
   “And just how are you going to do that?” the man repeated.
   “I’m…well…I’ll…” Fred trailed off.
   “I can help with that.”
   “How?”
   “Let me introduce myself.  I am Jonathan Toque, the third.”  Jonathan bowed.
   It took a few seconds for the name to register, but when it did, Fred’s mouth dropped open.
   “The inventor of the toque?” he asked.
   Jonathan shook his head. “That would be my great grandfather.  I simply run the company now.  And I know just how to locate your mystery toque man.”
   “Really?  How?”
   Jonathan shook his finger. “First, your name.”
   “Oh, I’m Fred.”
   Fred held out his hand and Jonathan shook it.
   “Pleased to meet you, Fred,” he said.
   Then he pulled out his iPhone and put in his password.
   “I have everything hooked up to this,” he explained. “Including the tracking system on every toque.”
   Fred stared at him. “You have a tracking system on every single toque?”
   Jonathan smiled. “Yes, I do.”
   He flicked the screen a few times, then held it so that Fred could see too.
   “Aha, there he is.”
   On the screen was a map of the area around the airport.  A lone, red dot was moving rapidly away from their position, which was represented by a green dot. 
   Fred grinned. “All right!  Let’s go get him!”
   Jonathan gestured to the doors. “I have a car waiting outside.”
   Fred marched up to the automatic doors, waited for them to open, and went on through.   However there was another banana peel just outside the door and he promptly stepped on it.  This one was not right side up and sent Fred tumbling to the ground.  He scrambled quickly back to his feet.
   “Would you like to go first?” he asked.
   Jonathan laughed. “Bananas and automatic doors.  What will you hit next?”
   Fred didn’t answer.  He preferred not to find the answer.

To be continued…

Inconceivably Concerning Anger Issues…and Insane People

   Did you know that nine out of ten people are actually insane?
   Naw, not really.  I just made that up to get your attention.  But what if those nine people really were insane?  That would mean the majority of people were insane.  So would that make the sane people the insane ones?  It’s an interesting thought, and the probable outcome.  Imagine.  A world where insane people were considered the sane ones.  Just think what their government would be like. 
    Okay, off the topic of insane people, I want to talk about oranges.  Yes, I did say oranges.  Did you know that nothing rhymes with orange?  Now that’s pretty cool.  It made the orange my favorite fruit, because besides being unrhymable, it’s tasty too.  Where else are you gonna get a combination like that?  Not to mention that they’re shaped like balls.  Oranges are one of the few food items that are okay to play with.  Before you peel them that is.  It’s probably not a good idea to play with them after you peel them.  They’re pretty juicy.  But before you peel them you can toss them around and use them to play pretty much any sport.  Not the best for soccer though.
   This has absolutely nothing to do with oranges, but take a look at the word ‘unswervingly’.  Just look at it.  The original word is ‘swerve’.  Tack on ‘ing’ to back, then ‘ly’, and pop ‘un’ on the front and you’ve pretty much got the exact opposite of the original word.  In fact, you can probably turn any word right around by tacking on little things like that.  Probable.  Improbable.  Know.  Unknowingly.  Cheeseburger.  Uncheeseburgerly.  All right, so the last one wasn’t a real word, but that’s beside the point—I hope.  Actually, I’m not sure there really is a point.  You probably already knew everything I just told you.  At least you are now doubly well informed.  In fact, you are now almost as well informed as my dog. 
   You could take that as an insult, but don’t.  My dog is a genius.  She may not look it, but she is brilliant.  She knows more than your average human, and she’s way cuter.  Especially when she wants something.  When she’s after something she comes right up close, looks up at you with her big brown eyes, and wags just the tip of her tail.  It’s so adorable!  Combine that with her brilliant brains and she is totally awesome.  I love my dog, if you can’t tell.
   You may be wondering what my dog has to do with anything.  Well, I’ll tell you.  Nothing.  That’s right, nothing.  Nothing on here has anything to do with anything, you should know that by now.  But did you know that there really are things that have to do with something?  Incredible as it may seem, there are indeed things that are not pointlessly about nothing like some things are.  Generally you find them in places.  All over the places.  It’s actually the minority that have nothing to do with anything, now that I think about it.  That’s depressing.  I’m depressed by it.  Are you depressed?
   If you are, too bad.  I have something important to tell you.  It’s about the conspiracy to overthrow the government, declare war on Britain, and take over the world, all at the same time.  You see, there are these guys who hate the government, England, and the rest of the world too.  So they stage a coup d'état, take over the government, declare war on England, and use nuclear missiles to take over the world!  All in one day.  The moral of this story is, do not make the people angry.  Because when you do, they are not happy.  Which is the passive form of anger.
   Have you ever been passively angry?

The Chase

(When we last left Fred, his peanuts had been just been stolen by the PEANUT terrorists and they had left a ransom note)

   The Pathological Environmentally Antagonistic Novices Utilizing Toques terrorists.  That name was feared by every man, woman, and child in the world.  Their favorite method of assassination is to suffocate their victims with their toques.  And now they had Fred’s peanuts.  He couldn’t let his peanuts come to harm, that was the one thing he knew for sure, so he pulled out his wallet.  Sure enough, he had the money.  103 dollars actually.  He took an even hundred out and put it on the seat next to him.  Then he leaned his head back and tried to go to sleep, but it wasn’t easy.  The plane was still jerking and his mind was racing with concern for his peanuts.It took some doing, but he finally got his brain to calm down enough to fall asleep.
   When he awoke, the plane was on the decent to the airstrip.  His eyes shot to the seat next to him.  The money was gone and the seat was empty.  Fred gasped.  No peanuts!
   The plane hit the runway with a jolt and slowed to a stop, but Fred sat in shock, barely observing the world around him.  But as his fellow passengers were exiting the plane, he saw something that caught his eye.  A young man in a nice suit was just about to leave the plane.  That in itself was not odd, but the young man was also wearing a toque*!  Now that is not something you see every day, and Fred’s peanuts had just been stolen by the infamous PEANUT terrorists.  He shot out of his seat just as the young man left and ran to catch up, pushing anyone and everyone aside to do so.
   He burst out of the airplane and into the crowded terminal, searching frantically for the guy in the toque.  There he was!  Fred started running, jostling the people around him and drawing many angry exclamations, but he ignored them all.  He had to catch that toque.  His peanuts’ lives were at stake. 
  Toque man was just twenty feet away.  Fred broke into a clear section of the crowd and sprinted forward.  Just then, of all people, a litterer crossed Fred’s path, tossing a banana peel aside as he did.  And, with Fred’s amazing luck, he stepped right on it.  Again, with his amazing luck, the banana peel was right side up and he did not slip and fall.  However he failed to noticed a small child until the last moment.  In an incredible feat of agility he leapt right over the child and kept running.  He was so amazed at his skills that he didn’t realize the automatic doors had not opened and slammed right into them.  As he bounced back and fell to the ground, they jerked open. 
   He lay there for several seconds, dazed.  Then he remembered his mission and leapt to his feet.  The guy with the toque was nowhere to be seen.  And if this was not a G rated story, Fred would have swore.

*Big, white chef's hat

Filler

Hey guys. 
   Well, first, I guess I’d better inform you as to why you are not reading about Fred at this moment.  It was a bit of a cliffhanger last week, I know, but you’ll only be getting Fred’s adventures once a week, every Thursday.  Just like a TV show.  In between those you’ll just have me talking about whatever.  Y’know, filler.  Because Fred is the real stuff that everyone wants to read.  However, I will attempt to make these fillers interesting.  They will no doubt fail in their attempts to compete with Fred, however, they maybe be able to finish in a close second.  If they manage to tie the race, I shall be content. 
   So, blogging.  I assume when one blogs, one is supposed to have a topic upon which to blog.  That’s the trend that I’ve seen in the blogs I’ve read anyway.  But is it really necessary to have a topic?  Or can simple rambling be interesting?  I guess we’ll find out, because I’m just rambling here.  If it entertains you, then I guess it proves that you don’t have to have a topic upon which to blog.  Which would be a good thing for me.  But if you find this to be mind numbingly boring, then I guess I do need a topic, which will make it just that much harder.  Perhaps that will make it more satisfying in the end though.  Hopefully it will, because I would need some compensation.  I do enjoy rambling on about nothing in particular. 
   Y’know, now would be a great time to insert some humor.  So I guess I will.  Go watch Tim Hawkins. 
If he didn’t make you laugh, you need to check your sense of humor, it might be broken.  Maybe it needs a new battery.  Can you get a battery for a sense of humor?  Are those things kinda like fire alarms?  Like, instead of smelling smoke and beeping, a sense of humor sniffs funny and laughs.  If that’s the case, then it would make sense why laughing gas makes people laugh whether they want to or not.  But if your sense of humor was out of batteries, I don’t think even laughing gas would help. 
   Senses of humor aside, batteries are very useful things.  They do a lot of useful stuff.  Like battery powering things so that you don’t need cords.  That’s why they’re called batteries.  I want to throw one in a fire and see what happens.  It being compressed energy and all, I would think that it would explode, and since I’m a teenage boy, I wanna see it explode.  And if it does explode, I wanna get one of those bigger batteries and make a bigger boom!  Or maybe I should just get sticks of dynamite and blow up rocks.  Hhhmmm.  The rocks might be enough by themselves though.  I once tossed a rock into a fire and it blew up.  It was funny.  I tossed the thing into the fire, then like ten minutes later there was a loud BANG and sparks flew everywhere and freaked everyone out.  Just goes to show you that rocks really can be amusing toys.
   Are you bored of me yet?  Because I’m getting bored of myself.  So I guess I’d better wrap this up.  It might be an advisable to do so before you really get bored and vow to never read my blog again.  That would be a tragedy.  A terrible tragedy.  A tragically tragic tragedy.  Say that five times fast.  Or even two times fast…it’s a lot harder out loud than it is in your mind. Just like if you say gullible slowly it sounds like  fish.
   I was going to leave you with that thought, but I need to know.  Do you prefer it when I do or don’t have a topic?  If you have a preference, tell me in the comments.  If you don’t have a preference, tell me in the comments anyway.

The Beginning of the End

It had not been a good day for Fred.  First, the paperboy threw the newspaper through the window instead of onto the porch.  Second, Fred tripped over a newspaper—that had somehow appeared on the porch—on his way out the door.  Third, he made road kill out of a squirrel on his way to work.  Fourth, his boss promoted him (oh, I suppose that’s a good thing).  Fifth, he got fired (never mind), for spilling scalding coffee over his boss’s wife in his excitement over being promoted.  Sixth, on the way home he got a flat tire.  Seventh, he didn’t have a spare. 

When he finally got back to his house, he sank into his favorite rocking chair and heaved a sigh.  What was he going to do now?  His job was gone, and with it his livelihood.  And jobs were so hard to get these days.

Then, the telephone rang.  Fred picked it up.

“Hello, this is Fred speaking,” he said.

Someone with an English accent said, “Hello, Fred.  We would like for you to come here to England for a job interview.”

Fred jumped to his feet. “Really!?”

“Really,” the person replied. “You no doubt have the plane fare in your mailbox at this moment.  We shall expect you ASAP.”

“All right!”

The person hung up and Fred dropped the phone and ran out to his mailbox.  Sure enough there was a ticket that would fly him straight to London, first class.  The departure time was just a few hours away.  Luckily Fred lived just a couple miles from the airport.  He ran back into the house and threw the majority of his clothes into a suitcase, dashed out to his car, hopped in and with a squeal of tires shot out of the driveway.   There was a bit of traffic along the way, but he made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare, and, two hours later, he was comfortably seated in a plane up in the clouds. 

The seat next to him remained empty, leaving Fred alone with his thoughts.  But not for long, because he soon drifted off to sleep. 

He was awoken by a jerk and the Captain’s voice informing the passengers that they had hit a small storm and apologizing for the inconvenience.  Fred was just about to get ticked off about this, when he noticed a bag of peanuts on the seat next to him.  His eyes widen.  Fred loved peanuts.  Not like most people say they love chocolate, but like most people love their lives.  But, sadly for poor Fred, he was deathly allergic to them. 

He stared at the peanuts for several minutes, mesmerized, then slowly reached over and picked the bag up.  Never removing his gaze from it, he laid the bag on his lap.  He only stopped staring at the peanuts long enough to blink once or twice every minute.  But eventually his eyes started drooping, and a few minutes later he had again fallen asleep.

Another, harder jerk woke him an hour or so later.  He quickly looked down at the peanuts and came fully awake.  They were gone!  In their place was a note that read,

If you wish to see your precious peanuts again

Leave exactly $100 on the seat next to you

And then go back to sleep

If you notify any authorities, your peanuts will suffer

Fred stared down at the note in shock, trying to figure out who would do such a thing.  There was only one possible answer.  Only one group of people would do such a dastardly deed. 

The PEANUT terrorists!

Balderdash

Now the title says this is balderdash, but let me assure you, there are many very intelligent and amazing things contained within this post!  Coherency is not among those things, however, neither is brilliant writing structure, which is why it is called Balderdash, I suppose.  Well, I believe I shall let you judge it for yourself.
You see, it all started as the day waned, I sat atop a grassy hill in the middle of a beautiful ocean of grass, the great waves rolling across the plain in large wavy motions of waves which one expects of waves when they wave, very naturally of course.   My attention was soon diverted from the waving waves by the startling appearance of an extremely startling sight!  It was so startling that I rolled off the top of the hill and down to the bottom of my startlment.  When I reached the bottom of the hill, the startling thing had disappeared, and I have never found out what it was.  It is a strange mystery which haunts me to this day.  I still have nightmares of that strange startling dealybobber which knocked me off my whoshumacallit down to the thingybobber.  In the mares of night it always pops up and I scream and it screams and I scream and it screams and I pull out my frying pan and kablammy the dream explodes in a flashbang of exploding things!  All sense of proportion is thrown out of whack and it all comes a tumbling down.  Right on top of me.  I screamed and it screamed and I screamed and it screamed and I….well you know the rest.  It was one of those dreams over which you have no control.  One that pulls you where it will and drops you at the slightest sign of discomfort (to it, not you).  And so it happened that I wound up I don’t know where in the unknown vastnesses of my mind.  Now you may not know this, but my mind is a vast void of mindly stuff that is all joggled together to create some semblance of a mind that looks somewhat similar to somebody else’s mind (don’t ask me who) and when you look at it in the right light, you just might come to the conclusion that it belongs to that person.  But let me tell you right now, that there mind belongs to ME and to me only.  If I see anyone trying to steal it, I’ll belt said person over the head with my brain.  That oughta teach ‘em somat.  No one messes with my mind and gets away with it!  But just in case they do, I’d like to say they’re always sure to take a souvenir away with them.  Something akin to a slight disturbance in the brain.  That is to say, they ain’t got much left in the upper room after an encounter like that.  A few fries short of a happy meal.  A sock short of a full load.  Like a cat with a dead mouse tied up in a ball of string filled with catnip.  They all come down to the same thing, there’s something rotten in Denmark!  And I think it’s that suspicious looking egg there.  Ah well, such is the life of one in constant danger of losing one’s mind from ones enemies who seek to take said mind for whatever devious purposes them may have in store.  Or stock, I’m not sure which…well it doesn’t really matter as my mind is securely guarded by my brain.  And I know that my brain is perfectly capable of handling anything my mind can dish out.  To the other guys.  The ones trying to steal my brain.  From my mind.   Oh never mind, I’m sure you get the picture, whatever it may be.  Now, on to more important matters.  Such as an ending for this ramble of rambling.  The prospects look just a tad dismal at the moment…but never you fear!  I will rise above the problems afore the end of—

The End

Meet Fred

Today you get to meet Fred.  That is correct, Fred, my good friend and constant companion.  In this blog post, you shall hear the first of his adventures.  And it will be a doozy, you can take his word on it, because mine might not be reliable.  Well, without further ado, I shall begin.

Fred was walking down the street one day, as he does often, when he saw something shiny in the middle of the street.  It was just sitting there, twinkling brightly in the sun.  Now Fred cannot resist anything shiny (who can?), so he walked over to it and reached down to pick it up.  Something hit him.  Hard.  Everything went black.

When he came to, he was lying flat on his back on some comfortable grass.  To his extreme disappointment, the shiny thing was not in his hand anymore.  He got to his feet, but before he could look around, a fawn popped out of nowhere.

“Welcome, Son of Adam!” the fawn said. “We have been anxiously awaiting your arrival.”

Fred stared at the fawn and said the first thing that came to mind. “Hi.”

The fawn turned and began to walk away. “Come.  There is much to be done before the White Witch can be defeated.”

“Hold up,” Fred had recovered from his initial shock. “You’re a fawn, there’s a White Witch, is this Narnia?”

The fawn nodded, but didn’t stop walking.

“Whoa there, buddy,” Fred called after him. “I ain’t fighting any White Witch.  It’s way too dangerous.  She might turn me to stone, or even give me Turkish delight.  That stuff’s nasty.”

The fawn turned back. “You don’t like Turkish delight?”

“No.”

With a sigh, the fawn shook his head. “Then you’re no good.”

He tossed something to Fred, who caught it.  Everything went black again.

When he came around again, he was back on his back, but this time it hurt and he was on hard concrete.  People were standing over him looking scared and worried.  A siren was blaring in the distance, coming closer.  Fred felt something in his hand and managed to glance down at it. 

He had the shiny object.

There he is folks.  Fred.  A regular guy to whom really weird things happen.  You could say he doesn’t take full advantage of those opportunities, but hey, he’s a simple dude with simple wants.  Going to Narnia or whatnot is not among those wants.  But maybe someday I’ll tell you about the time he tried to eradicate terrorism once and for all.  It's an interesting tale, that one.