Stuff that Happened to Thing #5
Part 2: The Search for More Absurdity

One day, Thing #5 was sitting in his rocking chair, when he suddenly had an overwhelming urge not to sit in the chair anymore. Thing #5 got up and opened his front door, where he found Hwango the Indistinct.

"Hwango!," Thing explained, "How did you know to be there just then, so that when I decided to open the door you'd be standing there? Are you psychic?"

"No. I'm psychic." said Hwango. "Now, let me in, so I won't be outside."

"Hwango, did I just explain something to you?" Thing exquired. "And what the heck is exquiring?"

"I have no idea Thing. I thought maybe you were being sophisticated or something. Maybe there's something wrong with your character." Hwango said.

"That goes without saying," Thing exploded. "Cleverly changing the subject, what brings you here after so very many aeons?"

"A bus. Can I come in now?" Hwango asked, "It's extremely hot out here."

"That's because you're standing in my moat of molten lava. Wipe your feet, I don't want it to stain the carpet." Thing expired. "Why have you come here?"

"I've come to polish your wall." Hwango said.

"No!" Thing reflected, "I cannot allow such a thing!"

"I must."

"Why, Hwango?"

"It goes along with the plot, Thing." Hwango explained. Thing looked at him suspiciously.

"Hwango...there is no plot."

"Exactly." said Hwango. "If I can establish a plot based on wall-polishing, our story will gain direction, and we can go on for dozens of episodes!"

"How terrifyingly irresponsible that would be! Think of the trees that would be destroyed to print the paper to publish us on! Think of the octopi that would be slaughtered for their ink! Think of -"

"Um, Thing," Hwango interrupted, "they make artificial ink now. They don't -"

"Shut up, Hwango!" Thing expunged, "I'm creating a sense of dramatic tension!"

"Oh." said Hwango. He looked around the room a bit. "Where?" Thing glared at him.

"As I was saying," Thing imported, "think of the other books that wouldn't be published so that presses could run around the clock bringing us to the masses! Think of the death toll as people stayed home reading us and starved to death rather than abandon their books! Think of -"

"Thing," Hwango interrupted again.

"Yes?" Thing isolated.

"I think you're somewhat overstating things. And you forgot the stunning amount of brain damage that would be suffered as people actually read the story."

"I was getting to that." Thing acclimated, a bit sulkily. He moved back into the living room and sat down in his chair, creating a break in the dialog long enough for us to establish some character background.

Thing had know Hwango ever since they'd met. Hwango had found Thing asleep in his chair and had decided to rob him of all of his possessions. Thing was awakened when Hwango attempted to steal the chair. The resulting conversation was simply too horrifying to put into print. Suffice to say, however, that they have since become close friends.

Hwango took a small sponge out of his pocket, at which point something amazingly surreal occurred involving clouds in fish cages dribbling green wax, and tiny elephant-like creatures burying each other in brazil nut shells. When the whole mystifying experience was over, Hwango became terribly indecisive. Thing seized the opportunity by the ankle and threw it out the window before Hwango could take it and sell it to him.

"May I borrow some money, Thing?" Hwango said at last.

"I will ignore that for the sake life as we know it. Pass the ketchup."

"That's some pretty random dialogue you're spouting, Thing." Hwango observed. "I really need the money though." he said. Thing glared at him.

"My lungs explode for you, Hwango, but I sense an aura of auralessness above your head." Thing frambled somberly.

"The symbolism in that last comment eludes me." said Hwango, confused.

"There is no symbolism, only blind wombats with three tails, and some other miscellaneous surreal stuff."

"One of those wombats is sitting in your car outside."

"Hwango, believing you would require me to stretch gullibility at least a few bridges beyond that land in Atlantis you sold me eight years ago when we were in the Sahara desert making snow men." Thing elapsed.

"I remember that moment. Four wiggees later my brain gave up hiding in my ankle and sought refuge in my Left Major Squirterthingy, where it was devoured by my sanity, which had moved there two days before my birth."

Remembering how humiliating that day had been, Thing suddenly flew into a psychotic rage, knocking it from the air. It crashed pitifully onto the couch where it struggled weakly to take to the air again. Thing picked up a handy coffee table and swung it at Hwango.

"Thing, why is it that you're reacting as if you did not treasure my company like an open jar labeled 'Warning: highly explosive, do not expose to open air?'"

"I have an intense desire to do things to you that will render your existence vacant from the universe." inflated Thing.

"But Thing, our friendship is based on a rock solid foundation of lies, deceit, treachery, and outright attacks on your mental awareness - all on my part, of course." said Hwango, dodging Thing's attacks.

"It's been a barrel of laughs, Hwango. Actually, more like a barrel of water - round, made of wood, sloshy on the inside, with pond scum collecting in it." Thing exposed, continuing his attack. Hwango's expression turned pensive as the avoided the onslaught.

"Perhaps this mindless mangling of the English language will never be published. Maybe we're just too amazingly entertaining and brilliant!" Hwango observed wisely.

"Perhaps you're right Hwango. Still, that's no reason for me not to bludgeon you to death with this piece of furniture." Thing expanded.

Suddenly, the dialogue was interrupted by a pathetic excuse for some atmosphere and setting. One of Thing's windows exploded inwards, rendering it an oxymoron, and sending broken glass flying everywhere. Thing paused in his attacks, giving Hwango enough time to make an attempt to polish Thing's walls. Hwango failed to make use of this time, however, and just stood there like an idiot. This was, however, fairly characteristic behavior for Hwango. Disgusted, Thing dropped his coffee table and wandered off into the kitchen. Hwango curled up on the floor and went to sleep, creating enough of a break in the action for the episode to end.

Tune in next time, when we will learn the secrets of the universe, the meaning of life, the correct temperature to bake apple strudel, and the density of Styrofoam!

(Ingredients of next episode subject to change without notice).

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