"Blimpot" a book to mad to be publishe Created 18 years ago2006-02-09 19:00:16 UTC by Archie

Yeah.. well, basically i was writing a book for an english project... and sorta.. failed.. so i sorta.. mutated it.. and sorta.. the results were sorta... freaking awsome... sorta...

Its unfinished, but hey. tell me what you think.

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Chapter 1

Blimpot had always been a sock farmer. His father did it. His father?s father did it. And his father?s father?s father did it. For some strange reason his father?s father?s father?s father actually mined shoelaces but that?s another story.
The crops were good this year ? A whole two fields were blooming with pink frock-socks and another three with long-johns which would sell at a fantastic price what with winter coming. However, the price of socks wasn?t on Blimpot?s mind that morning. He was a bit jittery as the first meeting of the town?s amateur astronomers was being held at his house today. It was a large event seeing as it was the town?s only social activity apart from the great annual sock sale that believe it or not occurred every year.
?Oh ?eck,? Blimpot started as there was a thump on the door, ?The bligh?ers are early.?

***

??And continuing from article eight sub-section nineteen, I believe that space is in fact, endless.? A Sharp young college graduate who had failed to give his name finished speaking, his eyes fluttering around the six assembled men who were scratching themselves or twiddling their fingers absent-mindedly. He coughed loudly and stared at Blimpot knowing that if any response to his speech was to be expected, the first question would have to come from their host, ?As I was saying, kind sir. I believe that space is in fact endless.?
Blimpot scratched his head, ?But I don?t like butter.? he stated matter-of-factly feeling rather proud of himself.
The rest of the group of men agreed with Blimpot and so the rest of the day was reasonably eventless unless you count the untimely suicide of the unnamed college graduate.

***

Twenty-six miles east of Blimpot?s house, a man dressed entirely in black was sitting behind a desk, talking on the phone. It was a fairly good desk and had served the man well over the years but this was one encounter it wouldn?t survive.
?You did WHAT?? the man screamed down the phone and hammered his fist off the desk which decided that it would be more fun in the great office in the clouds and gave up on life, collapsing to the floor in a pile of paper, metal and wood.
The man swore loudly and threw the phone out the window before cursing again when he remembered that he had been using his expensive mobile and not the office phone.
He pressed a little button on the wall,
?Sandra? Yeah, call my driver. I?m leaving work early today. Thanks. Bye.?
He got up and sighed as he examined the wreckage of the desk which was at that very moment being re-united with its long-dead family.
Trying to calm himself down by playing Killswitch Engage on his MP3 player, the man dressed in black strolled out of the office block and into an awaiting limousine which revved, coughed, spluttered, died, revved and then spluttered again before finally driving off down the street.

***

The man whom had been on the other end of the phone, broken on the road and being driven over by the limousine was named Erik and he was managing sales director for the company ?We know where you live security systems.? The reason the man in the black had been so angry at Erik was that about three minutes prior to phoning, Erik had spectacularly burned down the entire manufacturing factory for ?We know where you live security systems,? killed the man in black?s dog and shot down an ME-14eleven-niner Jet plane that just happened to be the property of John Longshot, CEO of ?We know where you live security systems? and now deceased.
This had all come down to a simple stumble in Erik?s office which had resulted in him falling onto the dog which barked loudly and smashed out the window in surprise, landing on the ?launch missiles at jets? button which in turn, fired the missile that blew up the ME-14eleven-niner that un-imaginably coincidentally was flying right over the manufacturing factory of ?We know where you live security systems? that caught fire and burned down due to the flames coming off the plane?s wreckage.
Erik heard a car pull up outside his office, parking next to the ?launch missiles at jets? button. It was a black limousine and stepping out of it was the man in black.
Erik almost wet himself. The man in black never made personal visits unless it was very important.

***

?And that is why you?re going to leave this city right now.? The man in black finished his forty-six minute long speech on why it was dangerous to throw dogs out of windows, shoot down planes and ruin major companies.
?And if I refuse?? Erik asked sheepishly.
?You?ll join the dog down on the pavement below.?
This statement was greeted by a silence in which Erik contemplated what had been said.
?But the elevator?s broken.? He said finally.
?THE WINDOW, YOU IDIOT! I?LL THROW YOU OUT THE WINDOW!? The man in black shouted louder than he had done over the phone.
?I?m sorry sir, but I must decline. I feel I may get hurt by being thrown out the window. And to show my outrage at this ludicrous window-throwing scheme, I shall leave this city. Right. Now.? Erik said stubbornly
The man in black rolled his eyes and left the office leaving Erik standing alone with his thoughts that at that very moment were going something like this ?
?Cow man, and his side kick Ass-hat man, are going out on their most dangerous mission yet!? to the theme tune of I?m sorry I haven?t a clue.
It was this tune that Erik was singing as he packed his Skoda with the few possessions he owned when all of a sudden, a man in a green jacket approached him.
?Hi, I was wondering if-? the man never got to finish the sentence because Erik had been listening to Killswitch Engage on his MP3 player, hadn?t noticed the man and had driven away.
?How rude.? Said the man in green said, opening Erik?s wallet to check the contents.

***

Blimpot was getting fed up of continually having to de-cheese the ?Extra Extra Large? socks which he was growing in field #4. They were so smelly, and the cheese let off a noxious gas which was partially explosive. It was at times like these ? when Blimpot was walking back to his home after a particularly hard day?s cheese-scrubbing when he would think about other occupations. Shoelace mining for example - the work was harder, but the profits were larger and at least he wouldn?t have to scrape cheese from the bottom of socks.

Wow, I read the first paragraph...and...urm...yeh...that is certainly something.

That made no sense at all.

Its like, you stuck a blender in ther brain of terry pratchet....

i just love this

This had all come down to a simple stumble in Erik?s office which had resulted in him falling onto the dog which barked loudly and smashed out the window in surprise, landing on the ?launch missiles at jets? button which in turn, fired the missile that blew up the ME-14eleven-niner that un-imaginably coincidentally was flying right over the manufacturing factory of ?We know where you live security systems? that caught fire and burned down due to the flames coming off the plane?s wreckage.

This is what i write when i come home from night clubs

This could either be considered absolute genious or undeniably crazy. I'd personally like to compare it to the literal genious of 'I am the walrus' but it just wouldnt be true...

Hello David! This is your 54th login.

wow am I not special?

BUT you are not seeing as you are trapped in the Never-ending corridoor of spoons...

hah humiliated... what english essay was this? I am in your eeengleesh class and I remember no sock orientated essays...

silly billy goat you are

/glee ^_^