Stuff that Happened to Thing #5
Part 7: Thing #5 vs. MechaGodzilla!
Attack of the Amazing Werespoons!

Warning!: This episode almost certainly does not contain MechaGodzilla! In all probability, it does not even include Japan. And it absolutely, without a doubt, does not include the word frubble. Nowhere on this page or any other will you see the word frubble! We promise!

Hwango the Indistinct awoke from his coma with absolutely no idea where he was. Nor did he know who or what he was. In fact, he was just plain out of ideas. Now, you're probably thinking that I, the mysterious scribe relating this fabulous tale of action and bloodletting, am also out of ideas. Well, you're right. I'm tapped out. I've given up on our heroic trio. The can rot in Hell for all I care. What's that you say? Not a trio?! You mean...Gasp! You're right! Well, off we go then!

Thing #5 knew what the story needed. It needed to be burned. It was an abomination. It should be torched. Incinerated. Other words meaning burned. Cooked in various ways until it was sort of pink in the middle and a pleasant grey on the ouside. But, lacking the proper implements of global destruction to make this a reality, he settled for trying to eliminate his only competition for best supporting anthropomorphic personification of absurdity. He lifted his weapon, which just happened to be a mid-sized resort complex, over his head and prepared to bring it forcefully down upon Hwango's head region. But, at the last second, Hwango realized what was happening. Of course, realizing at the last second didn't leave him any seconds to get out of the way, so he was crushed into a thick paste by Thing. But that's not important right now.

What is important is that, just after Thing had completed his task, there suddenly arose from the water next to him (conveniently placed for this utterly contrived inclusion of the ultimate symbol of great cinematic glory...I know, I know, not yet a major motion picture. But soon, damn it! Just as soon as I can find someone to play the part of Hwango who doesn't have irritating distracting facial features, like a nose, or eyes.) a shark! All right, I'll wait here while you go catch up on that last sentence. Done? Good. Anyway, a shark! Yes, every successful movie of all time has included some sort of ravening carnivorous thingy, and the greatest of those have included sharks! Go ahead, see for yourself. But not right now, we're in the middle of a tense dramatic moment here.

Thing was horrified. The inclusion of a shark almost certainly meant he would have his role shifted from anthropormorphic personification of whatever it was I said he was to lifeless blob of half-digested shark food. This was a career move Thing was not ready for. Abandoning his resort complex, Thing dove for safety. It is unfortunate, however, that he chose to dive for safety directly into the shark tank. After the shark had ripped him into bloody shreds and devoured a significant portion of him, there was little for the author to do but contemplate why he has not yet decided on a career in psychotherapy. Think of the thousands of sociopaths he could help to re-enter society! I mean, he does that already, but this way he wouldn't need a distraction and a set of lock picks.

But, back to the story. Now that we've included a shark, and thus set for ourselves a place among the great motion picture masterpieces of the ages, we can get on with some more mindless dialog.

A mysterious figure suddenly appeared next to the shark tank, and dragged Thing's upper torso out of the water. Thing's eyes opened and gazed upon the newcomer.

"And who might you be?" Thing said.

"I," the newcomer said, "might be Albatross the One."

"The one what?" Thing inquired.

"Since I am the only one, I don't need identifying modifiers." Albatross the One exquired.

"First of all," Thing began, "You can't exquire, because it's not a real word. Second, we should really see about shortening your name. Can we just call you Albatross?"

"No. And I can too exquire. It's the same as exflating versus inflating a tire." Albatross the One said.

"But the word for un-inflating is deflate, no exflate." Thing said.

"I'm afraid I've missed your point." Albatross the One said. Thing glared at him.

"We have to shorten that name somehow." Thing said.

"I'm sorry, but calling me Albatross would be silly." said Albatross the One. Thing pondered for a moment.

"How about Albat, then?"

"Perfect." said Albat.

"Do you realize that your addition to the story has given us a Sureality Index of 7?" Thing asked.

"Actually, your use of the term Sureality Index has bumped us up another point."

"Fantastic!" Thing exclaimed in delight. "You simply must join our little band."

"We have a band?" Hwango's wandering spirit said, appearing confused.

"Yes." said Thing. "I play drums, remember." Thing played a few notes on the piano for emphasis.

"Ah yes." Hwango's immortal soul said, once it had finished experiencing sympathy pains for the piano. He glanced down at Thing's mangled body for a moment, then turned his attention to Albat. "So, Albat. Is that short for Albatross?"

"No." said Albat, mildly offended. "It is short for Albatross the One."

"Ah." said Hwango's incorporeal manifestation of self. "You know, I think I should see about getting myself reincarnated again...soon. My character identifier is getting very clunky."

"Yes." said Thing. "And I should see about getting myself a new lower torso and legs."

"Hmm...I can't help noticing that the two of you seem to be participating in this conversation without the benefit of several major organs." observed Albat.

"What's your point?" asked Hwango's ethereal nether-form.

"I'm afraid you'll need them for our quest." Albat said, as thunder and lightning suddenly added a forboding edge to the otherwise cheerful and carefree atmosphere. Thing pushed one of his protruding ribs back into place with a sharp snap.

"What are you talking about? A quest would represent some kind of direction and plot for the story...we simply cannot allow that." Thing said.

"I understand completely, but we are unfortunately caught in a Catch-22 situation. You see, there is an evil wizard who is going to give this story a plot unless we can stop him." Albat explained.

"I see." said Thing. "So if we let him succeed, we have a plot. But if we try to stop him, stopping him becomes our plot."

"Precisely." said Albat.

"Squippo." interjected Hwango's spiritual incarnation, attempting to make up for the uncharacteristic lack of utter lunacy in the preceeding statements.

"Is there anything we can do?" Thing asked.

"We could say frub-" Albat began

"No!" Thing screamed, "We promised!" Albat frowned at him.

"Maybe you did, but I just got here. My contract doesn't say anything about not saying frubble."

"But if we say frubble, we're likely to get suspended, fired, or even fed asparagus!"

"Okay, fine, I won't say frubble." Albat said.

"Good, I'm glad we settled that."Thing said, and returned his attention to trying to figure out how to reconnect his liver to the rest of his organs.

It suddenly occured to Albat that they needed some time to get the other two characters back in good working order. The delay between episodes should do nicely - besides, this way they could put off addressing their new problem. In fact, if they were lucky, they could forget about it entirely. So what if someone gave the story a plot? They could just ignore it, along with all other standard writing conventions.

Tune in next time for Part 8, or suffer the consequences of normality and sanity!

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