Miscellaneous Cheese Butty

About time I began the tale of Cheesemisc. You haven't heard? Sigh. Oh well. But I must say, your life will never be the same, after this. You ready? Oh boye oh boye I shuram... Okay. Yeah. Here we go. Whu, GRANDAD? What're you doing ere?

• "It's my birthday, and you forgot your wallet
• "I've been sent from the future to warn you about the wallet
• "Here it is. Also, you're cursed, brutha!

Oh grate. Thanks Grandadpaw

• S'OK

Sigh...

Cheesemisc

In a sandstorm up Fourth Avenue, a gristle bear flops around in it's fatty Godness. Within an earshot of the alleyway where it is practicing rolling in poopie poop, a cat called Cher hands her mate a Forgotten Jelly Bowl.

"Six more of these and we will be glitching out, y'all!" The Button Maker excreted.

Cher: "Y'all be toasty after a fire of these mittens!"

John: "Bake the bread, hurl the goalie up and make him play in sodden socks..."

Cher: "Haven't you finished your homework yet, John?"

Button Maker: "Yeah, that was due like fourty years ago."

John: "I wanted to make sure this trashpile gets done before I solve my next problem."

Cher: "But THAT problem's from, like, fourty years ago, dude. Why don't you just do the main problem?"

John: "Oh yeah"

John screws up the paper and plays football with it for a good ten seconds, kicks it into the window of the drinking hut, and smashes the window.

John: "They really should use something stronger than tin foil as windows, to be honest, mate."

Cher: "Aye. Wait until they invent glass. They'll be like museum pieces...."

Button Maker: "Oh yeah, you're from the future aren't you?"

Cher goes quiet and winces. To which John whispers to the embarrased Button:

John: ... erm, probably shouldn't call it that. About four hundred years of trauma just came up in one seed of a word, bro.

Cher: "You are excused from that error. Consider it a computer stringing us along. The f.... I mean, further into years, isn't a concern for us now..."

John and Button Maker go quiet. The wind over the bay rustles in the banana trees beside the beach. A spoon ship flies over with its propellors wrecking havoc over the Bumbledogs by the grass. One whimpers as it runs into cover, the rest simply lie there and watch on. Strangely, though, the spoon ship lowers down over the three of the Roamers, John just manages to grab his hat from descending into the fire pit. Cher and Button simply carry on eating their roasted mushrooms. A scent of bleach hangs in the air.

John: "That's some engine. About a 45cc if I am right in guessing."

Cher: "160cc actually. Shouldn't be this low. Those peasants must be retching in the hold again."

Button: "Darn it. They never rest. I'd sooner build a Police Ship than steal one from them. No manners for the authority around here."

John adjust his hat as the ship sails away into the three moon sky."

John: "That's the problem these days. Not enough bant to sort out a simple theft issue. The sooner they rid of that Headjar, the better."

Cher: "About three more Parsons I think, if I remember correctly. Don't worry, in about three more presidents after, the famine will stop."

John and Button gulp.

John: "That's like.... erm..."

Cher: "...Twelve years. To the exact minute"

Button: "Well if we aint getting resolve yet I'm setting this blade on fire. Let's get some monsters for breakfast before we hit the sacks."

They all take a big gulp of their mead and spit it onto each others sword, to each next to each. And in about fourty minutes they slay a Crackling to gut and roast before the fire fades out. Just warm enough, are their sleeping bags, so they can rest and begin the next day on the front foot. Before they begin the journey into the Mountains of Due Diligence.

My People, we are about to witness the worst disaster to hit Earth2. A wave of scoped missiles will batter the seas of the world, leaving about four percent of the land intact. Within three hours, the lava will spill out of the cracks. And within a second wave, the Bhuddaballs will fly into the orbit and turn the human life into more Bhuddaballs. With this team, they can begin the Turning. To reclaim what is theirs, after all this time...

• The Balloon Wallet*

Duhduh dunnn dun dun dunnn.... ( that's drums people, like terminator style yo )

And that's why Cheesemisc was the best Holiday ever

What? You thought this was going to make sense? Think you should go to our rivals down the road if you think that would be the case. Anyway, welcome to the machine, boys and girls, fish and gish, potatoes and salad.