Gopher - Issue 17 and a Quarter

WRITINGS FROM THE RODENTS OF THE UNDERGROUND
VOLUME II, ISSUE NUMBER 17.25
"A hundred thousand lemmings can't be wrong."
(c) 1998, All rights reserved to the Gopher Society,
PO BOX 174, Thompson, Ohio, 44086-0174.

-Those Who Felt Compeled To Write These Fucked Up Stories-
Lemming
Tim Hawk
Star-Gazing Dreamer
Reverend Mocha

In the last few months, Star-Gazing Dreamer and I, Lemming, have been writing up a story like no other. Nothing makes any sense. Included in here are other stories which link in some way or another. The order in which the Don't Asks were written was in numerical order, but were not meant to be read in that same order. So now I introduce you to Alison Wonderland.

EDITORIAL	by Tim Hawk
Heroes	by Reverend Mocha
Don't Ask 2; The Continuing Adventures of Alison Wonderland	by Lemming and Star-Gazing Dreamer
Don't Ask	by Lemming and Star-Gazing Dreamer
Legend of the Toilets	by Lemming
The never-ending adventures of Alison Wonderland (Don't ask 5)	by Lemming and Star-Gazing Dreamer
The story of Bob the Lizard	by Tim Hawk
THE ONE TIME ADVENTURES OF NEFARIOUS BOB	by Reverend Mocha
The not-so-final installment in the saga of Alison Wonderland (Don't ask 3)	by Lemming and Star-Gazing Dreamer

Well, if you remember from Gopher 16, I had a few stories I wanted removed because they were supposed to be printed all together, (in finished form) and in a certain order. But Rewired forgot about this, even though I told him a thousand times and he even forgot that he put them into 16 after he sent it to Mr. G.. So now, I, Tim Hawk, a.k.a. Lemming, Reverend Mocha, formally known as cereal killer, PACMAN Overload, send to you my own Gopher issue with it's correct stories.

Yeah, I know, I'm a picky bastard about my stories, especially one that meant as much to me like Legend of the Toilets, and have to create my own Gopher issue just to give you, the reader, the right, fucked up, confused effect. You see, as I see it, if someone reads the unfinished form of the toilet story, and then see it again in 17 and a quarter, they won't read it the second time around, even though it has a completely better ending and has been edited a hundred times over.

I dare you to read all the Don't asks in the order they are printed in, not in the order they were written. It's sooo much more confusing.

Giant gophers careen around underground, tree frogs try to take over the world, a purple dinosaur attacks the innocent straight from hell; and if that ain't bad enough, cheese weasels wander the Earth unseen from the probing eye of humanity. What's wrong with this picture? And out of all this, who are our heroes. Not the super people and mutants you see in comic books, but instead a couple of average human beings like you and me. (Well, all right, so not all of them are normal; in fact, all three of them are weird in some way or another.) Let us take a moment out of our already dull existences to examine these two heroes (one is just plain crazy).

Nefarious Bob; the insane one. He is not a hero. In fact, he is more likely the one who would try to blow up the universe. It's a good thing that he lost his super powers. He is the villain turned hero by accident. No one cares about him, so let's look at the real heroes.

Alison Wonderland; the clueless one. She has absolutely no clue what is going on with her life. And she really doesn't care either. She does whatever she does without even a second thought. Actually, she doesn't have a first thought either. It is by pure accident that she manages to accomplish saving our pitiful existence. Let's face it, Barney bashing just isn't an appropriate way to accomplish anything, let alone save the world. But then again, no one ever helped anyone going strictly by the norm. But what about the third (or second, depending on your view) unlikely hero.

Tim Hawk; the weirdo caffeine addict. He is just another pathetic example of how our morals just plain suck. He is just as weird as Alison Wonderland is, but a little more scarier versus her clulessness. He goes through life unliked and unwanted. Tim is an artist, a writer, a loner. The outcast. Tim with the sunglasses, trench coat, messy hair, and soul-torn face, is me, but with a trench coat. Tim wastes his life because he has nothing better to do. Caffeine keeps him awake where he thinks. His mind is always working, unfortunately. The greatest hero because unlike the others, he has no reason to be a hero. Alison is the chosen one and Nefarious Bob is just insane, but Tim is a hero because he wants to be.

Three unlikely heroes. Three just plain scary heroes. Three heroes which make you want to run away into space to avoid total annihilation. But without them we would all have been the victim of an intergalactical war of beings and evil men who all want control of our pitiful world and everything on it. The Great Gopher already managed to kill off god, who controlled us for the last few millennia. But with the steadily increasing amount of other creatures after power, our own safety is in danger. But with Tim, Nefarious Bob, and Alison, we can feel relieved.

Don't Ask 2; The Continuing Adventures of Alison Wonderland
by Lemming & Star-Gazing Dreamer

Last time I strategically pushed random buttons on my computer keyboard, Alison Wonderland had thwarted Barney's world domination attempt and the world was saved. Since then, she has not been bothered by the smiley face, and she has managed to live a normal life. Well, sort of. She is now 16 (don't ask), and is engaged to a psychotic college student named Gumby Loserville. (It's better than Alison Wonderland, but what kind of parents would name their child Gumby?) Ever since her run-in with Barney, she has been haunted by the phrase: "Won't you be my neighbor, too?" (Wait, isn't that from Dilbert?) Once a little yellow hedgehog told her that (Don't ask) so she tied it to a stake and burned it. It really was a beautiful sight. Being tormented by the gorgeous (Yeah, right) sight of hell is bad enough, but that was just too much for her!

Lately, a gut feeling is trying to warn her of a terror yet to come. But she is just too clueless to realize that. Last time she had the prophetic stomach aches, she ate her dog. Poor Spot; the dog whaled for days, (What did that prove, besides nothing?) She finally realized that something was up. (so I guess the objective had been obtained)

Today she wakes up in a cold sweat. (Wait a second, how do we know that her sweat was cold? It very easily could be warm.) She has been having nightmares of her confrontation with Barney ever since she fought him fourteen seconds ago. (Don't ask) She gets up and sprints to the bathroom to spew out all of last week's supper. (Yes, last week's.) The nightmares always end with Barney being splattered by a giant cookie. (Chocolate chip?)

Finished barfing, she goes to the kitchen to make breakfast. Gumby is sitting in his lazy boy chair reading the newspaper. (Actually, it's a porno. He hides it inside the paper like some elementary school students hide comic books in their text books.) He looks up at her as she walks by. "Honey, you forgot to put clothes on again." (Don't ask. Please don't ask!)

"Whatever," she retorts. He goes back to his porno and she goes to make lasagna. (Don't even think about asking.) When she opens the fridge, it is completely empty, except for a lone cookie that falls to the floor. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh(You're lucky you don't have to listen to this.)hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I highly doubt I used enough "!", but with all the "h"'s, I think you get the picture.)

"What is it? What's wrong?" he says, running into the kitchen. Looking on the floor, he spots the cookie and picks it up. "Yum, chocolate chip," and eats it. "Are you okay, Alison?"

"Um, like, whatever," she turns around, only to see him eating the cookie. That pissed her off. She snaps and screams at him, "Get the hell out of here you creep!!"

He heads off to school and leaves her alone to collect her thoughts into a Tupperware container. (Go ahead and ask, and if you listen very carefully, you will hear an answer from this piece of paper) She is wondering what to do when she realizes that she is not in Kansas any more. In fact, she never was in Kansas; they lived in Texas.

"Alison Wonderland -heh heh- ," a voice from behind screeched in her ear, scaring the fuck out of her.

"Just fine, thank you. Now, I don't have much time, so let's get right up to business."

"Shit! I'm running out of time! All I can do is hand you this orange triangle envelope and warn you of an impending danger which could destroy all human immorality. (Not like there's much left to destroy) Goodbye Alison, and good luck." He hands her the envelope with his hands that aren't really there.

"Sure thing, Bernie. You can count on me.... maybe. So, uh, Cynthia, where are we going, anywhat?"

"Uhhhh!!" he gurgled, followed by breathing exercises which kept him from overriding the body's natural urge to strangle the piss out of someone who really deserves it, otherwise known as stress exercises. "Okay, I'm better now."

"Yippee! Yay! I love hell. Wait, I don't like hell. (he pauses to think) Where the hell are you going!?!? Don't leave me here!!!!!"

With that she is left alone in this vast wasteland with nothing but the orange triangle envelope. (She still didn't get dressed.)

A sign ahead speaks (Yes, speaks; they all do) , "North pole, press 1; White House, press 2; Mars, press 3; Los Angeles, press 4; your local high school, press 5; supposedly-dead Barney, (Don't ask) press 666; a really long trip that doesn't go anywhere, press 7; a lone toilet sitting on top of a hill, press 8; and impending danger, press 9763786745412674953176344985548432654684. (Annoyingly long, huh?) Anywhere else, tough luck, shithead" (Signs are never polite)

"A teleportation devise. Cool! The long line of numbers are a trick; they don't want me to push them, but I'll show them! Hahahahah!" and she presses away. After extensive button pushing, she finds herself being Fed-Exed to the impending danger. (US mail is too slow.) When the destination was reached, she is tossed out of the truck. She hit the soft ground with a bone-shattering thud (Don't ask). She unwraps herself and gets out of the box. Alison stops for a while to pop the bubble wrap. (A habit) She then looks up and finds herself in a room a thousand years wide. (Really) The walls seem to be made of SPAM and the floors of Kool-Aid. (Pretty scary, isn't it?) "So, um, is this the impending danger, or something?" she says. (Yes, says; the key word to success- if you question everything in life, nobody will want to talk to you. Don't ask either)

Ahead of her she spots the lifeless body of the supposedly-dead Barney next to his throne. Sitting in the throne was none-other-than the Cookie Monster. "Ah! Alison Wonderland. -heh heh- I suppose you have been sent here by the all-powerful/extremely-weird smiley face, to stop me. Ha ha!! You cannot defeat me. It's worthless to try. Come to my side and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you live. I want you to lead my armies of mindless children into the above world." A very tantalizing offer, and she would have accepted had she not despised the color of burnt cienna. (That's another story) "I suppose you want to know why I am doing this."

He goes on and tells her anyway. "For years I've tried to gain the children's affection. Overshadowed by the likes of Elmo, Ernie, Big Bird, Bob the lizard (Don't ask), and Oscar the Grouch, I sought after another show; only to be beat out by some purple and green freak. Now, he is supposedly dead, and I, more powerful than he ever was, has risen up to take over his empire!" (Barney never really had any power, so anyone who could spit would have more power than him. The only thing he had going for him were the millions of mindless children that followed his every word.)

He then teleports them to the epicenter of low morality: New York City. "I have brought you here to show you just how powerful I really am. The aftermath of my full force blow on morality just twenty minutes ago.As you can see, this place is a hell-hole now."

"New York has always been like this, asshole! Where the hell (No pun intended) have you been?!" This remark was a real hit below the belt (no pun intended). Now was the chance to unleash whatever power was in the orange triangle envelope. She reaches into her pocket and pulls it out. (Yes, she still isn't wearing any clothes, so where exactly she put her hand, your guess is as good as mine) Alison tears it open and releases...one...tiny...spark.

"Ha ha ha ha!! You have failed! There isn't a weapon in the world that could harm me. I am more powerful than Barney ever was. (A little redundant, isn't he?) Give up now and I might not give you all the money in the world. (Don't ask) I'd love to see the look on smiley face's body when he finds out that his prodigy has failed to beat me.You are worthless. You couldn't save a Barney from getting so fat that he blows up in front of entire audience of interested children! (Wait- sorry, that is my own personal fantasy) You couldn't save a puppet from burning to shreds."

"You...you...you.. uhhhh! I'll kill you!!" He lunges after her, ready to tear out her heart. Alison fights back by lashing him with a wet noodle. He then gets up, dusts himself off, (those wet noodles collect a hell of a lot of dust) and pulls out an Uzi from underneath the mounds of blue fuzz he is made out of. He pulls the trigger, but it was clogged up with blue hair and blew up in his hands.

"Oh, yeah?" with that he lets out an enormous burp which shot out in pure energy. The blast just missed Alison when she ducked and blew off the door of a barn nearby. (Why is there a barn in NY?)

The battle raged on for quite a while. During this time, you would think there would be some by-standers around watching, but no. The only one else that showed up was a pick-pocket that stole Cookie Monster's wallet.

"I'll kill you yet!" He still had one trick up his sleeve. He calls forth his number two man: Tod (he liked to spell his name with one 'd' to be different) Wonderland. Todd (okay, occasionally he spelled it with two 'd's) takes one look at Alison, screeches, and takes off running. "Damn! Well, I still have one more trick up my sleeve!" (You would think he would send his millions on mindless children to kill her. After all, they could do a lot better than one person, but, no. He never thought of that.) "I'm gonna vaporize you into tiny little pieces with my (dunt dunt duh!) SUPER RAY GUN {patent pending}and where the hell did that 'dunt dunt duh' come from!??!?!?!"

Alison realizes that he hasn't had a cookie for a while. She pulls out one from her pocket to offer him. (Like I said before, don't ask.) She walks up to him and says, "Wanna cookie?"

Of course he couldn't refuse and scarfs it down. Cookie monster then reaches for some milk. But there wasn't any there. In fact there was no milk anywhere. Alison had figured this out because the cow that had just fallen from the sky and squashed some hapless by-stander had not given any milk when the homeless guy tried to milk it. (Don't even bother trying to think of how all this happened, but it did.) By now, the Cookie Monster was in a state of weakness as he searched all over NY, but to no avail. He finally bought the farm. (Literally and figuratively; - he died and he purchased the farm- think about it.) and the impending danger was thwarted. "Got milk, asshole!?!"

"Well done, Alison," a voice from behind sneaks up on her. The smiley face again.

"Stop sneaking up on me you stupid piece of floating protoplasm!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she whispered. (Yeah, right. She screamed like hell. Didn't you notice all the exclamation points? Duh!) She then proceeded to beat the crap (Also literally and figuratively; you didn't want to know this, I know) out of the smiley face.

Alison, whose ex-husband was a famous news anchor, Todd Wonderland, has lived a boring life of hell for twenty-nine years. He wasn't the best husband. In fact, he was the worst. A complete asshole. What kind of husband would leave his wife alone for nine hours a day? But he was quite rich and left her a small sum of four million dollars. After three long years of marriage, he finally kicked the bucket. A farm house fell on him (don't ask).

Now, twenty-five years old, Alison can easily live off the six million (don't ask), and even die happy, but she has to be above his shadow and prove herself. "I'm going on a job hunt!" she cried cheerily, skipping along the sidewalk. Her bright green and maroon dress (don't ask) wisped in the air.

The next day she checked her mail box (just as the day before and the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that, for the last forty-two years) (don't ask) for an answer to her resume. She had two eggs and toast, just like any other day for the past seventy-seven years (don't ask). She made her breakfast and woke up at nine. (ask).

Flipping through the mounds of bills, rejections, bribes, ransom letters, and the occasional Columbia House catalog, she spots an odd-shaped, odd-colored envelope. "An orange triangle. Hmmm. Whatever." She was clueless. She lets all the others drop and they scatter along the boulder-sized gravel (don't ask). Digging (literally- don't ask) under the flap with her fingernail, she feels an odd tingle run through her thumb. She shrugs it off and goes back to opening this queer (literally- don't ask) envelope. "The sun seems to grow bigger now," she realized. As Alison tears the last of the glue seal (say that ten times fast) (now add the word ball. If you don't get it, that's okay, Don't ask) she stares as a flash of light suddenly blinds her of everything except the envelope. She holds her hand to the level of her nose (don't ask) to block out the dark light and sees the sun moving toward her at a speed beyond that of light (think about it).

"Alison -heh, heh- Wonderland" the smiley face giggles to himself, " You have been chosen by his holiness (not god, but someone else) to travel into the pits of hell (located in Alaska). He needs you to rescue his two right-hand men (can you really have two right-hand men, or is it supposed to be one left and one right? Think about it, who's gonna guard your left side? I think it's just as important, don't you?)

"Their names are cereal killer and Pacman Overload (well no wonder there was only right-hand men, they're the same person. Don't ask)." she stares silently at this giant smiley face with a tongue like a tie (hanging out as he speaks). "So, um, are you like, up to it and stuff?"

"Now, in that envelope is a very powerful weapon. Don't open it now. (she stops). Only when the time is right, I mean, when you have rescued the right-hand men. When you drink this coffee (caaaafffffeeeeeiiiinnnneeeee), you will be sent into hell," he hands her a half-full (maybe it's half empty) mug with his non-existent hands (he's just a big round head).

"Neep! Caffeine!" She drinks. The world spins around her. She closes her eyes, as to not spew all over the weird smiley face, and when she opens them again, she is in hell. "Burr. Hell is hot." The sign ahead of her speaks, "Satan this way. Three miles."

"Whatever," she replies. After twenty seconds (don't ask), she reaches Satan's lair. The big neon sign above the entrance says, "Back Door." Underneath that was another, "PUSHSHSHSH"

"Whatever," she said as she pulled (yes?) the handle and went inside. In front of her is the back of a throne. "Must be Satan, I guess, or something," she thought.

"Um, are you like, um, Satan or something?" she said (don't ask, she didn't). The platform underneath the throne moved. This bulls-eye-like platform spun hypnotically twelve times before stopping. The purple and green aura began to show brighter.

"I knew it! Barney IS actually Satan!" she showed real emotion for the first time today.

"Too bad! You can't have them! And now, you will join them in my dungeon, forever watching my video!"

Nobody calls her dear and she was tired of her name being laughed at. She remembered the envelope. She opened it and pulled out a baseball bat.

"How the hell (a pun) do you get a three foot bat out of a six inch envelope?" he said (again, don't ask, he didn't). Now he was afraid.

"BARNEY BASHING!!!" For tastelessness, I won't go into what happened in the fight. But let me tell you, that purple and green freak didn't stand a chance. Cereal killer and Pacman Overload were safe and the big smiley face showed up again.

"You have done well, Alison (notice the last name unmentioned). Let me be the first to congratulate (don't ask) you."

"Mr. Rogers. They both loved kids a little too much, don't you think?" he replies.

"I shouldn't have asked," with that, Alison laughs hysterically until she spews all over the smiley face.

[The majority of the parenthesis are from Star-Gazing Dreamer who doesn't understand the meaning of the word 'edit'.]

The following is a real story. With real people. Only the names, places, ideas, quotes, places of birth, species, sexual preference, clothing styles... hell, everything has been changed to protect the innocent. And the guilty, too. Well then, this isn't a true story anymore, is it? Wait a second. What is the point of writing a real story with real people when there's nothing real left in it but the very essence of time. (eh, hem? Excuse me? Essence of time? Did you say time? Time doesn't exist. At least, not the word. It shouldn't, anywho. What many of you say is time, is really just a figment of your own imagination. A word made up so that the government could, yet again, control a person and where they will be. If we didn't have time [did I mention that I think we shouldn't -- have time, that is?] If we didn't have the word time that the government invented, then the government couldn't keep track of where we were and when we go different places. I'm repeating myself to get my point across, because you obviously wouldn't be reading this if you had read my formal, longer explanation of why time shouldn't exist. Because you would have already agreed with me that time shouldn't exist. The fact that you're still reading this proves that you don't agress with me yet, and I believe you should. Okay, I'm bored, I'm rambling to get my point across. Did it work?) Wait, time fits under 'ideas.' Well, in that case, I'm not even gonna waste my time writing this story. Oh, yeah. There was a reason I was gonna write this story. What was it now? I think it had something to do with a moral. But then again, it's almost impossible to write a story with everything changed because even the language would be incomprehendable. It's settled then. I will not write about the real story with real people when everything in existence has been altered. Instead, I will tell you a story. The story of a different time. A time in history not too long ago. A time when society was different, and people still believed in legends. This is the story of the long forgotten legend of the toilets.

The year was... gee, I don't know. This year, I think. The time was... how the hell should I know. I wasn't there. But I think it was somewhere in Ohio.

A lone man walks along the street. His name is... his name is... "There are some who call me... 'Tim'" he says to me, the narrator in a Monty Python-type voice. Don't you hate it when your own characters correct you? So the man called 'Tim' is walking along the deserted street. He is wearing a long, black trench coat, worn and pale with age. Dirt clings to the bottom. His dark brown hair, with a hint of curl, lays uncombed and sticks out of his 'No Fear' baseball cap, which is coated with dirt and frail from excessive use. His expensive Oakley sunglasses hide his wary brown eyes. Hey, doesn't this man look pretty damn scary? (Actually, this man reminds me of someone. I'll give you a hint. Zig-zagging down the street, sunglasses, a black trenchcoat, and the cops) So Tim, in his trench coat, cap, and $120 sunglasses, walks along the street, bobbing his head back and forth. Onlookers cringe at the sight of him. His face looks soul-torn with the stubble on his cheeks (what is there about his stubble that makes his soul look torn? Just curious). He has tried repeatedly to grow a beard, but to no avail because the hair on his chin doesn't grow fast enough. So Tim, with the trench coat, cap, sunglasses, and soul-torn face is walking along the desolate road. The gentle breeze rustles through his hair (he took his cap off to cool off his head), making it even worse. So Tim, with the trench coat, sunglasses, soul-torn face, and messy hair, walks along the long road home. "Will you get on with it already!" he yells at me, sounding annoyed. "Sorry," I say to him even though the piece of paper doesn't hear me. Tim is walking into town, for he has just finished his mission.

"Why don't I tell the damn story!?" he screams at me. I tell him to shut up as I punch this sheet of paper vigorously. It crinkles. Again he annoys me.

Tim was on a mission from a higher power. This "being" came to him in great need. The "being" was from underground, you see. The Great Gopher came to Tim last week while he was on his way to his mailbox. He popped right up from the ground.

Tim was angered because now he would have to fill the gaping hole in his driveway. Tim was ready to start yelling at this giant gopher when it spoke. "Are you the one they call... Tim?" the Great Gopher asked him.

"There are some who call me that," he said to him in a Monty Python-type voice again, "but my parents call me Timothy," he finished, not in a Monty Python-type voice.

"Well, Tim, I, the Great Gopher, have a mission for you, the one they call... Tim," the Great Gopher told him.

"A mission. Wow, that sounds so incredibly important." Tim was amused at the Great Gopher's words.

"Tim," the Great Gopher asked of him, "I need you to place toilets all over Ohio. They must be randomly, but spread out. No one can know about them."

"Okay," Tim responded. After all, he didn't have anything to do this week anyway.

The Great Gopher left Tim to carry out this mission, and Tim started on his way. It seems kind of odd that Tim had not questioned the Great Gopher's request, but he was so bored he really didn't care what his motives were. But I'm sure you're wondering why the Great Gopher needs these toilets, but I can't tell you now because it would most likely ruin the ending. But you will find out soon enough.

So Tim, with the trench coat, cap, sunglasses, soul-torn face, and messy hair walks along the road to his house. He finally finished placing all the toilets around and needed a serious time out. He needs rest. No one can survive on caffeine alone for an entire week. But before he can rest, he must fill the gaping hole in his driveway. He walks up to the edge and peers inside. The hole seems bottomless. He drops a pebble, but no sound returns. The rock never hit bottom. "Damn," was all Tim could say at this realization.

He decided that he would need some construction equipment to fix this hole, and that it could wait for a few more hours, so he went to sleep. Tim didn't really like sleep, but it was a necessity to life, so he had to compromise. He sleeps only a few hours per day, and sets one day aside for complete rest. Not the healthiest way of life, but he enjoyed it that way. Besides, all the good television shows were on while most normal people slept.

Tim sleeps peacefully in his bedroom. The blue walls seem to give off a radiant glow originating from a black light hanging above his bed. A small boombox emits vague sounds in the form of music. His computer sits on his desk, layered in dust. The remaining desk area lays covered in random papers of stories and poems. Rollerblades lay scattered upon the floor. His cap and sunglasses hang from an orange cone, which he had stolen from a freshly paved driveway months ago. His dirty, old flannel sprawls around the cone. The chair in the corner contains jeans and T-shirts which missed the laundry basket sitting behind it. The calendar on the wall was still on last month. A skateboard sits next to the bed, inches from where Tim's feet will fall in just a few moments. The main draw of this room, his waterbed, holds Tim, along with sheets thrown around, barely covering him.

At one o'clock in the afternoon, Tim wakes up. The alarm clock that he had set for six a.m. was still going off. He limply pulls his hand up, grips his fingers into a fist, slams it against the alarm clock, stopping it immediately. So Tim drags himself out of bed, takes a shower, puts on clean clothes, and then makes himself two scrambled eggs, but because he wasn't very hungry, he ended up throwing most of it away. The eggs that is.

Tim is on his way to check his mail which has been piling up for the last week and a half. He has walked the same route to the mailbox each day for the last eight years. He walks out of the side door to the mailbox, down the driveway and through the front door. He didn't like to have a routine like this, but it was the most efficient and he didn't like to waste time outside on a cold morning. But today, as he walks back to his house, sifting through junk mail and bills of electric and such, he doesn't look where he was walking and falls into a deep hole. "Where the fuck did this hole come from!?" Tim asked himself angrily, not realizing that it was the Great Gopher who had made the hole and he had forgotten to fill it again. It just goes to show you what all could happen when you procrastinate.

Now Tim was in trouble. He has fallen into a deep, dark hole, with seemingly no bottom, and he had no way to get out. Eventually, after bouncing his bum on the sides, he managed to slow himself down. But his ass hurt. A lot.

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness now and he was starting to understand where he was. Everywhere around him caverns and tunnels branched off from this hole throughout. Endless tunnels going in every direction. The tunnels were dug by skilled workers and stood at least seven feet high. If he was to get out of this alive, he thought he might as well try one of these tunnels before he falls even further down. So Tim, with the trench coat, soul-torn face, messy hair, and sore ass, kicks off of the wall and latches onto one of the millions of underground tunnels. Pulling himself up, he notices that these are not abandoned tunnels.

Tim didn't like to be dirty. And all this falling and bouncing had made him very dirty. Dry dusty dirt clung to his clothes and hands. This angered Tim. Staring into the tunnel with his night eyes, he sees little gophers scurry about. One of them comes up to him and says, "You must be the one they call... 'Tim.'"

"Yes, I am Tim. I didn't know that you could talk, too," Tim says with surprise. It was amazing how this talking gopher had not freaked him out as it would on any other man, but considering that he already met the Great Gopher, he remained in control of himself.

"We only talk down here. We fear the surface dwellers so we don't reveal our secrets. But you, our master speaks highly of you," the little gopher said to him. The little gopher seemed more amazed at Tim than you would expect Tim to react to the little gopher.

"Why yes, he is. I will take you to him if you wish. Most likely you are wanting to get out, back to the surface world. I am truly sorry for the hole in your driveway. You see, we are very busy and haven't had the time to finish it yet." Tim was relieved at this answer because he needed the Great Gopher to return to the surface.

"Oh, okay. Well, if you can take me to the Great Gopher, I will be very pleased. I want to get home so I can wash up," Tim asks of the little gopher.

"If you would pick me up and put me on your shoulder, I can direct you to the Great Gopher's chambers." Tim picks up this talking gopher and places him on his right shoulder. "This way, about 140 feet," the little gopher directs him, "then we will reach it. You are very fortunate to have found this tunnel, for any other would take longer and is more confusing. You can get lost very easily. By the way, were you the one who dropped a pebble on my friend Frank's head?"

"Sorry." Tim says with sorrow. He hadn't thought of the effect of his dropping that pebble even after he too fell into the hole.

As they walk through the valley of the shadow of death (oops, I mean the tunnel), the little gopher explains to him how they labor at the Great Gopher's will for the completion of his plan without question. Each gopher has a specific job and no one knows about the final plan.

"Another ten feet and you will reach a staircase. Follow that," the gopher points out to him. As Tim walks up the staircase, he sees a faint light ahead, growing steadily brighter. Ahead of him stands an archway leading into a large cavern. They step inside.

The cavern is lit by fires and torches throughout. The Great Gopher sits with his back against the far wall. Smaller gophers, probably servants, scatter about. "Tim! Why, what brings you here?" the Great Gopher exclaimed as he glanced over and saw him.

"I fell." Tim answered. He wasn't in a good mood to answer answerless questions like those.

"I have brought Tim here in hopes that you will help him return to the surface, master," the little gopher tells him politely. "It was nice to meet you, Tim. I must take my leave now," said the ever-polite gopher. Tim returned the goodbye as the little gopher resumed his assigned task.

"Truly sorry about the hole. I will send workers over to fix it immediately." the Great Gopher told him as he motioned a group of little gophers out. They hurried with excitement. "Franklin," he called, "escort Tim here back up to his home. Tim," he said turning his attention back to him, "my assistant will direct you back up to your home. Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked.

"Well," Tim replied, "I was kinda curious what this is all about," referring to his plans.

"In due time, Tim. In due time you will find out everything you want to know. You see, secrecy is the essence of our survival. We can't just go around telling everyone our plans. If I tell you, then someone else will want to know, and someone else will want to know, and so on and so on. But I assure you, you are in no danger, my friend."

"I understand," he said. His curiosity was still unfulfilled. "Well, could you at least tell me why you need the toilets?" he inquired.

"I see," Tim replied with a hint of sarcasm, but he did not see. The Great Gopher's answers were riddles. Riddles not meant to be figured out. "Thank you for your help, Great Gopher. I must leave now. Perhaps we will meet again, sometime?"

"Goodbye" Tim spoke as he followed Franklin, another little gopher, into a nearby tunnel. Franklin was small compared to the eighty foot Great Gopher, but when Tim saw him with other little gophers, he was larger. Almost twice the size. Having been with the Great Gopher, Tim had not noticed the size difference.

"Franklin," Tim asked him as they walked through a seemingly endless tunnel, "why is it that you are larger than the others?"

"I am older," was his reply. "When we become old, we gophers must leave behind the surface world for good. Humans tend to fear larger animals, and their fear thus scares us."

"Well, it's okay. I prefer to live solely down here anyway. We have safety down here."

"I'm really beginning to understand your culture now. It's amazing how you live down here. A whole unnoticed society."

"Well yes. It was the Great Gopher who began all of this. Without his guidance, we all would have died," Franklin answered.

"Up here," Franklin said, pointing ahead, "that tunnel will take you back. Be careful, for it is very steep. I must leave you now, for this is too far for my safety. I cannot travel up there."

"No. That was actually my cousin George, trying to walk on two legs to scare away campers from one of our tunnels."

Tim returned home with a splitting headache above his eyes. He takes two Advil, runs a shower, turns on the television, and goes to lie down on his purple couch. He fell asleep immediately.

In waking up a few hours later, he notices something different. Something was wrong. He glares around the room, but it was not there. He gets up and walks into the kitchen. Everything was as he left it, but an odd smell teased his nostrils. Suddenly he noticed the source. On the table, hidden by mounds of newspapers and half-empty cereal boxes, sat one of the little gophers. In front of him was a plate with food on it.

"I hope you don't mind, but I made some filet mignon." the gopher said to him apologetically.

"It was in the fridge. In a Chinese food take-out container." the gopher told him.

"No wonder," Tim replied. "That explains a lot," he said to himself. He had wondered about its contents for weeks.

"I seem to have made too much. Do you want some?" he offered Tim. Tim grabbed a clean plate and a fork and took some.

"Oh," he replied. They enjoyed the meal together, and when they finished Tim asked the gopher what brought him here.

"It was very important that I contacted you. You see, I fear that the Great Gopher is planning to take over the world," the little gopher replied. "by the way, my name's Bob."

"It was a good idea you came to me. But I doubt that the Great Gopher would try anything like that."

"The Great Gopher doesn't seem that diabolical, but I will take this into consideration. Dew?" he offered. Bob accepted. Tim looks out the window, "Nice day, huh?"

"You know what? Even though I doubt your paranoia, I will go out and investigate. I admit, there was a lot of secrecy yesterday. I wouldn't worry, though." Tim calmed Bob.

"You're right," Bob said. "It's getting late. I must get going before anyone notices I'm missing. I have to get to work."

"Goodbye," Tim said as he left. Tim went back to finishing his Mountain Dew. After that, he went to pee, and then on to investigate whether or not Bob was right about the Great Gopher's plan. He puts on his trench coat and a pair of old work boots. He was still mad that he got his good Airwalk sneakers dirty. He put on his cap and sunglasses to hide his identity.

The hole was still there, although most of it had been fixed by the team of gophers the Great Gopher sent over yesterday. Apparently they all had working hours. Probably nine to five. He peers inside and searches for the tunnel that led from the Great Gopher's chamber. At last, he found it. Climbing down, he swung over and barely landed in it. He started walking down it, not giving his eyes a chance to adjust. Eventually he could see the chamber ahead of him.

"Hi! Hi! Are you Tim?! Hi! Hi!" a very small, childlike gopher yelped at him. Tim was like an idol down here.

Tim was not a hunk. Far from it. But to the gophers he was. "Well Shelly, can you tell me something?"

"I'll tell you anything you want to know!" his not-so secret admirer said. Now that's something you don't see every day- a lovestruck gopher.

"Do you know what the Great Gopher is planning to use the toilets for?" he asked her.

"Whatever," said the increasingly-annoyed Tim (he's not an increasingly Tim, and he's not an annoyed Tim. He's an increasingly-annoyed Tim).

"There's this one goph... that's short for gopher. Goph. So, like there's this one goph... well, actually only a few of us say goph, but I say it. So this gopher named Greg, who knows this other gopher named Jim, who is kinda, sorta seeing Jennifer, who heard that Mary knows this other gopher that I don't know the name of who knows another named Joe that supposedly went into one of the new tunnels, and before he knew it, he was smack dab in the middle of a freeway. At least that's what I heard! I gotta go now. Kay. I gotta go to school!" she said, and scurried off into another tunnel.

"Odd kid," Tim thought to himself. Nobody had any clue what was going on. Tim started walking towards the Great Gopher's chamber. Peering inside, he noticed it vacant.

Tim studies the area more thoroughly than before. A tunnel in the rear leads to the Great Gopher's sleeping chambers. Others lead to and fro throughout the entire area. This seemed to be the center of the entire colony. Tim walked around, but nothing looked specifically diabolical. Then he noticed it. On the wall behind a small table he saw a seam. He pushed the table aside. Studying the seam, he realized that it was actually a hidden area. Like a safe. He pushed it, but nothing happened. He dug his fingers in it and pulled, but nothing happened. He was beginning to think this was just a crack in the structure, and was ready to give up when all of a sudden his foot sank in and it opened. A panel in the floor was the key to opening the Great Gopher's safe.

Tim looked inside. A small stack of papers laid there alone. He reached in, pulled them out, and placed them on the table. He sifted through them. Notes, drawings, journal entries. He sifted through some more. A diagram of the inside mechanisms of a toilet. Odd. Then there it was. Written on the diagram was a small note. "With added mechanism, toilet should work in reverse with pipes able to fit average young adult gopher."

"It wasn't a riddle. When he said means of transportation, he meant for his subjects," Tim thought to himself.

"Rebecca! Is my lunch ready!?" the Great Gopher called from his sleeping quarters. His voice echoed through the tunnels. Frightened of getting caught, Tim shoved the papers back in, being careful of their order, closed the safe/hidden area, and took off running. He made it up to the surface without being seen.

He still didn't know what the Great Gopher was going to do, but he did know what the toilets were for. But why?

So Tim decided to call his future girlfriend: Alison Wonderland. (Yes future. It is feasible if you think about it) She has gone through a lot of things like this, and maybe she could help him understand what is happening.

"I met the Great Gopher once," she said answering the phone, as if she know who it was and what he wanted even before he asked her. "I was fighting Barney. After Barney ate Bob the Lizard, a giant, twenty-foot tree frog named Slater ate Barney, and the Great Gopher ate the frog. Then he left."

"I don't know. Ask smiley face," she said and then hung up. He called her again.

"Bye," she said and then hung up again. She left him with more questions than he started with.

"How the hell does one drink a half full, not half empty cup of coffee," he asked himself. He goes into the kitchen to brew up a pot. He looks in the cupboards, but there wasn't any. He couldn't figure out what had happened. He had a whole pound can of Maxwell House, but it was gone. Nowhere to be found. He walked into town, but all of the stores were closed. And on a Thursday, no less.

All of a sudden, he turns around and nothing was there. Only white light. "I didn't die, did I?" he questioned.

"No, you didn't die. I brought you here," a voice behind him states. Tim swings around and before him floated a large, yellow smiley face.

"But I thought I had to drink a half full, not half empty cup of coffee to reach you. What gives?"

"You must drink a half full, not half empty cup of coffee to reach me, but I can reach you whenever I want," the smiley face told him.

"I don't need a fecking biography," Tim interrupted," I want to know if he is capable of attempting to take over the world or something to that effect." He paused a moment, and then another question popped in his head, "Why is everything closed today?"

"Your friends stopped by while you were away planting the toilets and they drank it all."

"The Great Gopher is capable of many things. But to take over the world, probably not. Although I am not completely sure. I doubt it, though."

Tim's questions were answered. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then he came up with more questions. "What could he be up to then?"

"Maybe he wants to try McDonalds food," the smiley face said way too seriously. He didn't have much of a sense of humor, but he had some.

"If you have been watching me, there's something I want to know. Did my Giga-pet die?" Tim asked him.

"I must leave now. I hope I have provided you with the answers you need. Good luck," smiley face said as he disappeared. Tim was back in town. He went home and slept.

Jason Carson walks along the desolate street. A drifter. He looks upon the hill ahead of him. A porcelain figure stands on top. An old, thrown-away toilet stood there alone.

"Honk!" A taxi cab honks at him and he gets out of the way. It stops in front of him. A man steps out. The man looked well off, probably has a lot of money on hand. Jason focuses on the man's wallet as it sticks out of his back pocket, calling to be picked. The cab pulls away. Jason follows him as he starts towards town. His hand reaches gracefully towards the wallet.

An unknown gopher crawls through the pipes. Ahead of him, the light from the surface reflects throughout. A faint smell of feces still lingers. He reaches his post. Peering his head out, he sees a man reach for the wallet of another. "You!" the gopher screams. Jason turns around. "I wouldn't do that if I were you!"

Jason and the other man look at the toilet. They walk up to it in curiosity. There was nothing inside. The voice seemed to come from the toilet itself.

"Yes. God IS dead. Oh great toilet, tell us of the truth. Tell us of retribution," the two of them say together in a hypnotized-like state.

Tim Hawk, amateur hero, sits at his kitchen table sipping gourmet coffee and eating a bowl of Cheerios. Millions of things run trough his head. He is thinking. He doesn't really like to think because he already thinks about seventeen hours a day and severely hates it, but he can't avoid it.

Thoughts of his past adventures. Thoughts of his possible futures. Thoughts of his past loves. Thoughts of gourmet coffee and Cheerios. Thoughts of thoughts. Thoughts of pain. Thoughts of falling into a deep, dark hole. Thoughts of giant gophers. Thoughts of the poem he forgot to e-mail Rewired. Thoughts of the Gopher. Thoughts of the Great Gopher. Thoughts of life. Thoughts of death. Thoughts of stuff. Thoughts of nothing. Thoughts of college. Thoughts of money. Thoughts of buying a car. Thoughts of defragmenting his harddrive. Thoughts of his friends. Thoughts of the asshole who continually annoys him because the drugs have destroyed the little motherfucker's worthless excuse for a mind and who now has the mental capacity of a dog. A dumb dog. An ignorant dog. A retarded dog. Thoughts of the girl whom he has been obsessed with. Thoughts of a giant, floating smiley face. Thoughts of what's on MTV tonight. Thoughts of the Bic pen which he has been twirling around in his hand. Thoughts of Naya bottled water, Pepsi, Surge, Josta, and Mountain Dew. Thoughts of skateboards. Thoughts of Coffeeanity. Thoughts of the internet. Thoughts of why the hell haven't I finished my web page. Thoughts of "her." Thoughts of fixing this damn squeaky floorboard. Thoughts of shooting that damn barking dog. Thoughts of getting a life. Thoughts of stopping this thinking. Thoughts of is this really worth writing out. Thoughts of emptying his mind and going to bed. Thoughts of...

"STOP WRITING DAMN YOU!!" There he goes again, yelling at the narrator. I punch the paper to shut him up. The voices in my head yell louder, louder. "Kill, kill, kill!" The paper tears. Dammit, there's a hole now. Now I'm gonna have to rewrite this.

So Tim sits at his kitchen table drinking coffee, eating Cheerios, and thinking. Suddenly his concentration is broke. The phone rings. And rings. And rings. And rings. There is no answering machine to pick it up. It rings again. And again. He drags himself to the phone and picks it up. "Hello?"

"Hi there. My name is Jefferson. I represent an organization who makes random calls to people at the worst times. If you could answer a few questions, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Do you feel any anger at me for bothering you in your meal?" the man on the other line asked.

"If I told you that you will be billed twenty dollars for this phone call, would you be mad?"

"These questions really don't seem to be bothering you. By any chance would you like to come work for this organization?"

The teleprompter had one more question up his sleeve. "Are you gay?" this question usually pisses off even the most stubborn people. Like an "if all else fails" fallback plan.

The teleprompter was confused. No one ever asks him questions. "Umm. Yeah, I guess so."

"Better go catch it then," he said trying to hold back a laugh. A corny joke, yes, but this guy was an ignorant as a newt.

"Oh my god! You're right! Come back here...!" Leaving the phone lying on the desk, he ran off chasing after the fridge. He never caught it. It jumped out of a twelfth story window. Tim hung up. In case you were wondering, the fridge was really old and vibrated a lot. It slowly moved across the floor before crashing out of the window.

Tim sits in his kitchen thinking to himself again. He glances around the room. His refrigerator looks sad with it's lone smiley face magnet. The open window lets in a gentle breeze. It's glass smudged with finger prints. The sink sits full of dishes awash with filth. The steady drip of the faucet dances rhythmicaly around his skull. The coffee pot sits in the corner, cold and motionless liquid mold laying just underneath the five cup line. A frying pan sits on the stove, remnants of scrambled eggs still inside.

Tim gets up and walks over to the sink. He throws his cup and bowl inside and begins to walk away, but he realized that since he had no other clean dishes left, he might as well wash those in the sink.

A faint rumble sounds away in the distance. Tim walks away from the half-finished dishes lying dormant in the sink. He moves over to the window and looks out. Nothing in sight gives way to the cause of the rumble. He puts on his cap, sunglasses, trench coat, and shoes and walks outside. He moves to the direction from which the sound is coming from.

So Tim with the trenchcoat, sunglasses, cap, and shoes walks to investigate the strange rumble. It was certainly not an earthquake because he lives in Ohio. As he listened more closely, the reality of the rumble began to materialize in his skull. The sound was not that of the ground shaking, but that of feet falling upon the ground. Over the horizon, a far distance from Tim, rose the millions of owners of the feet falling upon the ground. Millions of people fleeing and screaming. As the mob came closer, their screams slowly began to form speech.

"God is dead!!! God is dead!!! Listen to the toilets!!! The great toilets speak the truth!!! God is dead!!!" they scream in unison. This mob was not fleeing from anything, rather they were informing the world of the power of the toilets.

This spread throughout Ohio. Churches were abandoned and left to rot. Everyone eventually gave up on the thought of 'God' and turned to the toilets for advice. Answers were not given to them in particular, but people learned to live for themselves. After Ohio, the ideas were spread all over the world. God died.

Every now and then, people still look upon the toilets for help. Through more spiritual means versus actual words, people are still lead the way to salvation. The toilets were placed around for guidance, and they still guide us through our lives.

"The Great Gopher is an atheist? All he wanted to do was voice his belief? I am ashamed of myself that I ever doubted him." Tim says to himself.

He turns around returns himself to his home. Before opening his door, he stops and looks back. His eyes focus on the now-fixed hole that was in his driveway. The entrance to the secret society of gophers. A tear falls from his left eye. He thinks of Bob, and Shelly, and Franklin, and the little gopher who led him to the Great Gopher when he fell in. He would miss them all. He knew that he could never go back down there. Those gophers feel safe down there and he wouldn't want to do anything that would harm them like lead others down there. No, their secret lays safe with him. He will take it to his grave. In the back of his mind he hoped some of his gopher friends would come visit him.

He turned the door handle and swung the door open, half-hoping that one of the gophers was there visiting. Or at least ransacking the fridge. But instead the house was quiet and empty. Stale air from a nearby fan brushes across his soul-torn face. His adventure with the gophers and the toilet mission was over.

The never-ending adventures of Alison Wonderland (Don't ask 5)
by Lemming and Star-Gazing Dreamer

Hello again! Alison Wonderland is at it again. But this time she is not alone. No one is alone. In every life, that person will find love at least once. Even Alison Wonderland needs to find love. She has gone through eighteen years of her life without love. Everyone needs love.

"I am Don Juan," the Television is showing "Don Juan DeMarco." Alison sits on the couch alone on a Saturday night again. She is bored, alone. An empty bottle of scotch lays on the floor next to a puddle of scotch. Alison doesn't drink, but she wanted to make it look like she had been forced to alcohol. Instead she drowns her sorrows in Kool-aid. (Cheery, not cherry) She decided that it was worthless to wallow in loneliness, and headed into town to a local bar. She scans around the bar at the inhabitants. She sees one man which she thought was cute and started to approach him. But before she reached him, another man came up to him. It became obvious to her that she was in the wrong kind of bar. She leaves immediately and heads towards the local coffee shop.

Tim Hawk sips his coffee while glancing around. "The fools," he screams to himself. Everyone inside shift the chins at him. The take one look at him and realize that he is a complete genius. Most of them then go back to talking amongst themselves. Except for one. She instead walks up to him. She sits in the seat across from him. "May I sit here?" she asks after she already sat down.

"What the hell is your problem!?" he yells at her. "You haven't called, you haven't written, you haven't visited, you haven't teleported... nothing. What the hell is wrong with you!?" He seemed very pissed.

This made him even madder. "Of course we fucking met! We were going out for a whole week. Then you disappear for the last fucking month!"

Alison wakes up the following mourning in morning. (Sorry, I had to do it) She goes to check the mail. She flips through her mail. "Damn! No bills!" (Don't ask why, try Bud dry)

"Alison Wonderland, I need your help!!" smiley face yelped. "Something's happening, but I can't remember what it is. I lost a tooth yesterday and... oh my god! I have no butt!!? Why didn't anyone tell me!? Anysquat, I can't remember anything since the Tooth Fairy came. I need your help to regain my memory. At least I think I do." For some reason or other, he always had to speak before he appeared. (and while she is getting the mail)

Everything blurred out and she was in an area of nothing with him. A white light surrounded her and he appeared before her eyes. Well actually, her eyes appeared first. They were there when she was in there, and then smiley face appeared. Behind him floated something else, but he was too fat for her to see beyond him.

"Of course I will help you. You do have an orange triangle envelope, right?" she asked.

"A what?" he answered, and then he walked off with his new-found bride. She was actually a giant Ms. Pacman stuffed doll, but he forgot that she wasn't real. She was left alone again.

Tim wakes up. (Duh!) The alarm clock says four a.m., but it is actually some time around eight. (Don't ask) He pours himself a cup of coffee out of his coffee maker that was preset to start ten minutes before he woke up. (in case you wanted to know) He downs it in no time (Well actually, it was some time, but not too much. It was a figure of speech.) and pours the rest into a thermos. Then he puts on his trench coat and heads out. Being a Monday, the neighbor kid is off to school at about the same time.

"Hi Johnny. Off to school?" Tim says to the kid as he walks out the door. Johnny's front tooth was missing. (This will lead into something)

"Who are you? And where am I going anyway?" the kid says as he walks into the street only to be hit by an oncoming school bus. (There's irony in there somewhere)

"That's odd. The kid lost his tooth and can't remember anything. Hmm," he thinks to himself as he continues into town.

"The tooth fairy, memory loss, the tooth fairy, memory loss, the tooth fairy, and um... something else. There has to be a link there. I don't know what to do. Maybe I'll ask that guy Tim," she thinks to herself. (Yeah right. If you've been paying any attention, you would know that she had to be at least saying it, if not screaming it.)

She walks into town. Turning down Main street, she runs into Tim. (Literally) "Umph," Tim blurts out. "Speaking of walking into you. What's up?"

She looks up. "That light post up there," she points out pointing up. "Looks like the bulb's out."

"Does the word 'duh' mean anything to you? Yes, I'm sure. It's common sense. Who needs lights during the day?" he asks rhetorically.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about a memory loss thing and the tooth fairy, would you?" she says to change the subject.

"I saw a my neighbor kid with a missing tooth forget what he was doing and get hit by a bus, if that's what you mean," he told her.

"Yeah... okay," he realized just how clueless she was. "Sure. But don't you think that a missing tooth and memory loss has something to do with it."

"I don't know. What do you think it's supposed to mean? Now, on to the task at hand. What do you plan to do about it?" he says.

Again in an Irish accent, with the exception for 'man' which is in a Jamaican accent, "Aye, but I need your help man. I'm like, totally in trouble or something. Smiley face didn't give me no orange triangle envelope. I don't know what to do. Or something. You know, like, um, your (yes your, not you're) like the only one who can help me. I need your help man."

"Okay," he says sarcastically. "It's probably the tooth fairy stealing people's memories when she takes their tooth."

"Yes, I'm sure the butler didn't do it. By process of elimination, the tooth fairy did it," he tells her off.

She takes her leave. Tim stands there for a moment, thinking. "Hey! Why are you leaving!?" he yells to her.

"Grew into it... wait, actually I think I was born with it." (Don't even think about it. Not figuratively. Don't literally think about it. It'll hurt your brain.)

"Now, I think we should set a trap for her. First, we knock out one of your teeth..."

"Did I say you could interrupt me? I don't think so. It has to be one of your teeth because you're the chosen one."

"Nothing. But I just don't want to get one of my teeth knocked out. Now, where was I? Oh yeah. We set up one of your teeth, and as we lay in bed, you will be asleep, and I will be waiting up to beat the poop out of her. Or it. Damn fairies."

"Oh, okay. Just for tonight." She leads him to her house. Walking up to the porch, she picks him up and carries him over the threshold. Upon entering the living room, she lets him drop onto the floor. 'THUD'.

He gets up and walks into the kitchen. "You don't mind if I make some coffee, do you?"

"Oh, no. Go right ahead. There's some gourmet coffee beans in the top cupboard. The sink doesn't work, but there's some bottled water in the fridge."

"Yeah. I see it," he says. She turns on the television and sits down on the couch. "You realize that that couch is upside down. That's the back, and this is the seat," he points out as he walks in waiting for the coffee. He pulls the thermos out from the inside pocket of his trench coat. He takes a swig and then hands it over to her. She dumps it down her throat and then hands it back to him. He then downs it all by the time the fresh pot was brewed. He then downs that within ten minutes.

They watch television for the next few hours. At around twelve o'clock she says "It's getting late. Perhaps we should get started. How do you plan to knock out the tooth, though?"

He punches her in the mouth. She spits blood, but no teeth. He hits her again. He hits her repeatedly. Eventually a tooth comes out. He gets up and brings her four Advil and a glass of water. "Now, let's go to bed."

Alison lies with her back towards Tim. She is asleep while Tim stares blankly into the nape of her neck. Wind rustles through the nearby window. Slowly, the window slides up on it's track. The sounds of fairy music fill the air. Tim waits patiently.

A strange being flies into the room. She reaches under Alison's pillow and pulls out the tooth. She drops it into a pouch, and then reaches over to touch Alison's head. With quick movement, Tim slaps handcuffs on her. This wakes up Alison. Alison reaches over to the nightstand as the tooth fairy flies about screaming. Tim snaps the other end of the handcuffs onto the headboard. Alison picks up a remote control and presses the shiny red button. An anvil falls onto the tooth fairy. (Don't ask) Green ooze flows from her now-flat skull. (Don't ask about this one either)

The room fills with white light as the body disappears. It vanishes into thin air.

The room spins around as it fills with black light. "I thought I'd do something different for a change," the smiley face said pre-appearing. "You guys did a great job here. You two are a great couple. Oh, and Alison, why didn't you tell me that I was carrying around a doll? But I guess it all works out for the good. A hippie chick pointed it out to me, and to make a long story short, we're married now. Me and the hippie chick that is. Although I still don't know her name. Anyfrat, you've saved the day again. Thank you, but there's something else. Something has come down, (Down, not up) and your services are needed immediately in Texas."

"Shut up," she says as she pushes the shiny red button which drops an anvil on smiley face. Then Tim and her go back to sleep.

Bob the lizard was a children's star
Up until the day he stole a car
Children loved him very much
He was adored and the such
He had many jobs in many lands
He once advertised empty soda cans
He made no money, not even a penny
He had refused for he did not want any
The children's love was all he needed
Doesn't he sound so very conceited?
Once he had a spot on Sesame Street
The directors were nice and gave him a seat
But someone stole it and made him mad
But his anger went away like a fad
But that seat was to him very dear
For he had a place to plant his rear
He asked for a new one but was refused
He felt he had been abused
He left Sesame Street and moved on
But inside it felt so very wrong
He had loved everyone there: Oscar,
Ernie, Big Bird, and Cookie Monster
But he couldn't go back and was very sore
He tried for a new spot, to be beat out by a dinosaur
The dinosaur had not liked poor old Bob
He kicked him and threatened to turn him into shishcabob
Barney had not been very nice
His heart was as cold as ice
Angry at him, Bob had not been
For he had been the better man
He had ditched his morals and went to tell
That Barney had cheated like all hell
But the producers did not care
Cuz they were tossing their bribe money into the air
So Bob the lizard had no job
He figured welfare he would rob
But they too refused Bob
Cuz he was not a fat slob
The children's love was no more
And the landlady kicked his ass out the door
So now he had to move in with his deadbeat dad
But those fond memories he still had
Memories of children's TV shows
After all, acting is all he knows
And soon he longed to be acting once more
But his dad said, "What the hell for?"
He left home with nothing but his goal
He had searched and searched for a new role
He looked and looked, but to no avail
He was arrested and let out on bail
No reason why that he could see
The police man said something about vagrancy
The real world he had been showed
He was now alone wandering on this road
These last few years have not been merry
In fact, they were down right scary
His career was no more
Who knows what the future held in store
Everyday he felt more alone
He missed the most: being well known
He devised a plan to be on TV
A devious plan that you will see
President Clinton was driving around one day
When his limo began to sway
The driver he had known only as Trent
Had been thrown onto the pavement
Behind the wheel was something absurd
It spoke and said, "Hi. I'm Bob the lizard"
This new driver had appeared from nowhere
And drove like he had no care
Cars were being driven off the road
He called him names like buttmunch and choad
But the driver had ignored him
So Bill went back to screwing Kim
When all of a sudden through the window appeared
The direction that the car had jeered
The White House was directly ahead
And Hilary was certainly not in bed
The limo slammed to a halt and a door was opened
Bill demanded to know what had happened
He gets out with Kim and looks around
Hilary ran over ready to pound
>From her looks she seemed very pissed
She shot at him, but had missed
SS agents held her at bay
And Bob the lizard was being dragged away
Bill said Kim and Bob were in on it
And poor Bill had to submit
He was forced to do things sexual
Hilary was not very intellectual
She had believed his lie
And they sentenced Bob to die
Soon the lie was leaked to the news
Everyone believed the entire ruse
No one believed a word of his story
Though not how he wanted, he would go down in history
Now Bob sits patiently in the electric chair
Thinking of how this had not been fair
He stared so blankly at the son-of-a-bitch
As he told the man to pull the switch
He hoped that the power would fail
And that he could bail
But he knew that that would not happen
For it was assured by all these men
The final seconds were ticking by
And now Bob the lizard would have to say goodbye
A tear fell from his eye
But that tear would soon be dry
"Throw the switch!" said the man with a lisp
And poor Bob the lizard was fried to a crisp

Nefarious Bob is wicked. He's evil. He is the epitome of all things evil. And he is only in high school.

Our story begins in a quaint little town with a quaint little high school and quaint little people. Very quaint, huh?

Now this quaint little town there is only one road with houses on it; Elm street. The rest of the town is completely dominated by businesses. Businesses just pop up around here like flies... no... flowers... Actually, it's more like popcorn. Well, not literally, but figuratively. If it was literally, this place would be a death trap. An entire building just falling into an empty lot. Well, you get what I mean, don't ya? If not, you must be a complete moron.

Anywho, this town is full of odd people.And Nefarious Bob fits in pretty well. Now on with this weird story.

RIINNG!!!!! The first bell. Time to get to class. The entire school rushes to their classes to learn things they will probably never need in their lives. Unless they become English teachers. In other words, school is pretty much pointless, except for the few people who really need it like computer programmers and stuff.

"Nefarious Bob, do you know who was the twenty-first president?" Mr. Ferris, the teacher asked.

"Who the hell cares? Presidents are just tools for the conspiracy. They have no control. The pentagon rules this country, not some asshole who people see as a leader and actually has no clue."

"Wrong. It was Chester A. Arthur. And I don't think your parents allow you to use that kind of language, and the school doesn't either. Get the hell out of here and go to the principal's office."

"Actually, I use that language where ever the fuck I am. My parents don't give a damn." with that, he leaves as the whole class laughs.

He walks out the class very pissed off. He decides to come back just after school lets out and blow up the school. Yes, he is insane. But he probably won't do it though. He never does. Always extensively planning devious ways to fight back the system but never doing anything.

The bell rings again. First period is over. Nefarious Bob never went to the principal's office. He just wandered around the hallway for twenty minutes. He sees Angela and Jeff, his two best friends. His two only friends. "Angela, Jeff! What's up?"

"I'll do it!" Nefarious Bob said. Of all people to say that, he would probably be the one to actually kill the teacher. "Let's go to the mall, huh?"

So they cut school and go to the mall. It's not like the teachers actually care. They're glad to get rid of these kids. They're just happy that these kids haven't burned down the school yet.

They get into the mall and start for the music store when they run into an old buddy of Angela: Jason. Jason dropped out of high school last year at the age of seventeen. He was still in ninth grade. Now all he does is hang around the mall causing problems until being kicked out by the security guards. Angela usually goes in with his hijincks.

"Jason! What's up?"Jeff said. He didn't know him very well, but he has met him a few times when hanging out with Angela and Nefarious Bob.

"The usual; pissing off store clerks, five fingering senseless crap. I got this sweet ass portable T.V.. It was so easy. I dropped it in my coat right as I knocked over a magazine rack. They are complete morons. It's just way too easy." Jason was the master of ripping people off.

"So anyway, we've been thinking about blowing up the school later. Wanna be in on it?" Jeff asked.

"Nah, that's all right. I'm still a little fire fearing after my pipe bomb backfired. Count me out on this one." Jason said.

"Well, see you later anyway." said Angela. They all walk off, leaving Jason behind.

The hallways were fairly empty. The majority of people in the mall were working there.

Just walking straight ahead, not realizing where they were going, suddenly they notice that they weren't in the mall anymore. The walls seemed to have a blacklight glow. The floor seemed almost liquid.

"Shut up you asshole! It's not a joke. We're really in trouble here. I think we're in some kind of weird dimension." Jeff said. He was really afraid.

"WELCOME TO MY DIMENSION!" a voice came from behind of them. They turn around to see who, or what it was. Standing before them was a twenty foot tall tree frog. "I AM SLATER, THE GREATEST BEING IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE! I HAVE POWERS YOU'VE NEVER EVEN DREAMED OF! YOU WILL OBEY ME! YOU WILL DO WHATEVER I SAY! YOU WILL FOLLOW MY EVERY COMMAND WITHOUT QUESTION! IS THAT CLEAR?!" said the giant tree frog.

"Oh yeah, sure. That'll be real easy for a couple of anarchists like us!" answered Nefarious Bob.

"Come on, let's get out of here! Let's leave this frog alone to jerk himself off." Nefarious Bob again.

"IT INVOLVES BLOWING STUFF UP!" Slater tantalized.It really hit their buttons.

"Did you just say blowing stuff up? He just said blowing stuff up. Hell yeah! We love blowing stuff up, don't we guys?" Nefarious Bob said as happy as a congress man with a three million dollar bribe.

"PURFECT! JUST PURFECT! RIIIBITT! sorry, that slips sometimes. NOW, I'M SURE YOU WANT TO KNOW WHERE, HUH?!!! WELL! TAKE THAT BOMB IN FRONT OF YOU, AND PLANT IT WHERE I TELL YOU! YOU GOT THAT?!!!"

"Yeah, I got that. How about you guys." Nefarious Bob, the seemingly leader of the group, said.

"GOOD, GOOD! NOW, THE PLACE I WANT YOU TO TAKE THE BOMB IS... AKK UPH BAHH AHK DIS BLAH BLAH BLAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*^%^**$#@!&*^@$~~$#%^$^*

The giant tree frog just up and died. It was pretty funny, actually. The greatest being in the known universe just up and died before he could tell them where to put the bomb. Enough C4 to wipe out an entire city, and he died before he could tell them where to put it.

Angela and Jeff walked up to the lifeless body of the giant, twenty foot tall tree frog. It's mouth was agap. The two of them peer inside. A tongue flies out and pulls the both of them inside. Apparently, he wasn't quite dead yet. "GULP! YOU! THE ONE WHO HAS SURVIVED! MY POWER MUST LIVE ON! I WILL GIVE IT TO YOU! AFTERWARDS, YOU WILL BLOW UP THE..." now he was dead. And again he didn't know where to plant the bomb.

Nefarious Bob was starting to feel the power Slater had given him. A smirk came across his face.

He went back to his quaint little town. Looking around, still holding the bomb, he decided on where to place the bomb: the center of the town. He tosses it in a dumpster behind a convienient store and walks away. Once he gets safely out of town, he concentrates on an explosion and... boom, the entire quaint little town was wiped clean off the map.

The next day, his powers just left him. He was not a giant, twenty foot tree frog, so he could not hold on to the great power. The power had to move on somewhere, but no one could ever guess. Somewhere, in a galaxy far, far away, some giant, twenty foot tree frog has just acquired the greatest power in the known universe. Only question is, how will he use it?

The not-so-final installment in the saga of Alison Wonderland (Don't ask 3)
by Lemming and Star-Gazing Dreamer

Well, unless you've been living under a pebble for the last few years, you have probably read about the adventures of Alison Wonderland. Well, I'll review what has happened so far for those of you who didn't read the last two installments. She was first sent into the pits of hell in Alaska to rescue his holiness's two right-hand men who happen to be the same person, and supposedly killed Barney. Then she went into hell again to stop Cookie Monster's threat to human morality. But since then, many things have been bothering Alison. For one, what does it mean that Barney is supposedly dead? And just who the fuck is his holiness and smiley face? Ooik.

Today, Alison is breaking out of jail. She has been there for 2.784 seconds for killing her pipsqueek lawyer defending her case. The bars in her cell were made out of chocolate (don't ask). She was eating them, when she realized that she could easily escape. So she walked right out. The guards were too drunk to realize that she was even there in the first place. Sploofink.

"HHEELLLPPPPPP MMMEEEEE!!!!!!! AAALLISON, HELLP MEE!" a scream from nowhere beat at her ears. It sounded like smiley face. Bonk, boing, boing. The big head bounced on the cement outside of the prison. He just missed kissing her eyebrow in mid-bounce. "help me," he spluttered. Flapt.

"I need your help. Barney has come back and attacked my home dimension. His holiness has been captured and I was kicked in the ass (I didn't know he had an ass). (He doesn't, but he does have a back side, or rear. He just calls it his ass for shits and giggles. Literally) You must help us. If he figures out how to control the source of his holiness's power, the entire world could be destroyed. You must help. Here, take this obligatory orange triangle envelope." he said and then fell unconscious. Lomdew.

"You must drink a half-full, not half-empty, mug of coffee," he woke up melodramatically and said, then fell unconscious again (don't ask). Xorm.

So Alison has to search for a half-full, not half-empty mug of coffee so she can get to smiley face's home dimension. She walked into a coffee shop and tried to order it, but the waitress had no clue what the hell she was talking about. Probably because she had her head pierced (don't ask). So Alison punched her out and walked behind the counter to make up a cup. After four hundred thirty-two tries, she finally accomplished it. She was also completely wired. She drank it and was transported to smiley face's home dimension Coffeeanity (it sounds like a religion, doesn't it?). (The bast damned religion I've ever heard of) Yinok.

Coffeeanity was beautiful. Rivers flowed with Swiss mocha. (Rhymes with CAW, doesn't it Rewired? CAW!!!) Walls were constructed with coffee bean bricks and cappuccino ice cream for mortar. Coffee mugs grew on trees. (They were ceramic trees?) The top soil was actually instant coffee. (now that's what I call heaven) In the center of this town-type place was a magnificent castle. That must be the place where Barney is. Korlac.

"You! The chosen one!" one of the right-hand men said as they fled from the castle. Which one is which, who knows. They both are the same person. They were in pretty bad shape. It looked like they barely got out alive. "Barney beat the crap out of us and has taken over the tower. If he gets his mitts on the source of his holiness's power, he will be invincible. You must save us!" the word bubble above his head said (don't ask). Doi.

"Hark! A bunghole!" she told the right-hand men. "Barney will DIE!!!?!?!?!?!?**!?*?*!?*!?" Peight.

She left the right-hand men to pass out in the street as she took a mug off of a tree and took some Swiss mocha out of a nearby river. After all, if she was going to fight Barney one last time, she might as well go prepared. She needed to be completely awake and alert and she also needed to get weapons to help her. She walked into a small general store and started looking around. "You're the chosen one aren't you?" the store clerk said. Nif.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am," she told him as-a-matter-of-factly. "How did you know that?" Fluyr.

He pointed out a white name tag that said 'The chosen one' on her orange jacket. (She's not naked this time.) "You have come to stop Barney haven't you? Well, you can't go into the most important fight in the world like that. You need weapons. Here," he said pointing at a rack behind the counter, "have any weapon you want. There's the BFG 9000. That is big fucking gun 9000. Then there's this one. It shoots off 4000 rounds of armor-peircing bullets per second. This one... ooh. This one here will send off a seventeen quadrillion volt shot of pure electricity. A flame thrower, a handful of napalm grenades, an extremely large mallet, a Barry Manilow tape, a Colt 45, an empty wrapping paper roll, one metric ton of C4, AK 47, a magic eightball, rocket launcher, mini-plutonium bomb, Nerf football (don't ask), a kitana sword, whip, mace, slinky, one anvil dropping remote (so that's how they get them to fall), and a shotgun." Blungtas.

"No thanks. But I'll take this birthday card here," she said pointing to a far side card. Plighnj.

"It's not to stop Barney, it's for my mother. It's her birthday tomorrow." Quackdafreinia.

"Oh. Then what are you gonna use as a weapon to stop him?" he was worried that she would fail. She seemed pretty clueless. Iyipi.

"I don't know," she said and walked out to mail the card. She was clueless. Flaxitor.

So Alison decided it was time now for her to go into battle against the most vicious, evil, maniacal, and down right disgusting thing to ever exist: Barney. She started walking the long route to the Castle of Caffeine. Along the road, many people came up to her to wish her luck and/or ask for her autograph. She told them to fuck off and punched them out, except for one, who she gave him the golden ticket to round two (somebody's been watching too much Singled Out lately). Raffviph.

When she reached the entrance, she stopped (what did you expect her to do?). The door was open and inviting. It seemed a little too inviting. She pulled out a rocket launcher (even though she didn't have one) and fired a shot into the empty hall to light it up. (sorry, I've been playing too much DOOM and Quake) She flicked her pocket lint on the floor causing a very radioactive reaction. It seemed perfectly safe so she walked in. The entire place looked like a Starbucks. Eventually, she found the main hall where his holiness resides. It was completely trashed. But where was Barney? He was no where to be found. "Bonk" suddenly she was hit on the head from behind by an empty two-liter bottle. It didn't hurt, but the hollow sound annoyed her immensely. She turned around to be greeted by none-other-than... some guy who she had no clue who the hell was. Bonrak.

"Oh great Alison Wonderland! I've worshipped you for years! Please, please, can I have a locke of your hair?" he said and/or (don't ask) asked of her. She stole the two-liter bottle out of his hands and beat the shit out of him. Now, on to find Barney. Klaspit.

"Hahahahahahahaha! Let's bake a cake!" a voice echoes through the halls. It had to be Barney. She followed the voice into a large chamber. A sign above the door said: Source of his holiness's power kept here (what's with these damn signs?). Barney was inside tearing up the place. He was looking for something (gee, I wonder what) but he had not found it. She didn't have much time. Flabergass.

She pulled out the obligatory orange triangle envelope and opened it up. A voice from within screamed "SUUUURRRGGEEEEE!!!!!!" as a Surge can appeared over Barney's head. Thirteen guys came pogo-ing from nowhere and toppled Barney for the can. After one of them eventually got it, they left. Barney was still alive, though. The orange triangle envelope had failed. But she had to admit that the scene was pretty nifty. Alison didn't know what to do. The envelope never failed before. Then she had an idea. She took the envelope and ran up to him. Graff.

"Ach!" Barney screamed as the envelope ran across his arm, giving him a paper cut. He started yelping and suddenly fell backward as he tripped. He had fallen into The Bottomless Pit of Despair with a Really Mean Monster at the Bottom. (That made a lot of sense, how does a bottomless pit have a bottom?) Shart.

"Yay! I did it!" Alison screamed. She had saved the world once again, so she decided to throw a party. Blitzy.

The party was great. Everyone was there. Smiley face showed up, along with the two right-hand men, and all the people from outside, too. (for some reason, no one remembered about his holiness. Go figure) Alison was dancing with the guy she met earlier, the one with the golden ticket, when she heard a really mean growl. And then a whimper. Barney had finally reached the bottom of the Bottomless Pit of Despair. Everyone cheered. Cxix.

"I'm not dead yet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Barney screamed as he floated up the Bottomless Pit of Despair. He apparently found the source of his holiness's power and destroyed the monster guarding it. He was now invincible. "I am invincible!!" he screamed. Vizizzizizzizziziizizizizizizi.

Alison, armed with the empty two-liter bottle from before, stood there in shock. Whenever his head popped up, she bopped him with the bottle. This went on for about twelve seconds, when Barney, pissed as all hell, took the bottle away and ate it. Now she was in trouble. Dilblaxref.

Barney shoved her aside and looked around. He seemed very pleased. Alison was powerless to stop him. Smiley face saw the only chance left to save the world. He floated up to Barney and attempted to take a bite out of him. But Barney grabbed his flailing tongue, swung him around a few times, and then threw him into a wall. The two right-hand men ran up to him, but they too were fought off. The Pillsbury Dough Boy came up to him (don't ask), but he tossed him into a microwave and he exploded. Everyone who attempted to get a shot in at Barney had failed. Alison again stepped up. Pulling out a rocket launcher (which she didn't have), she fired a shot into his extremely large mouth. It was an enormous explosion, but it had no effect on him. Not even one fuzz was harmed. Humbsarty.

"Who's next to challenge me, the almighty Barney, to fight?" he announced. Ughblaquid.

"I challenge you you son of a female dog!" a voice from somewhere in the crowd said. Lok.

"I, the one you beat out for your show! You cheated you... you... evil thing! You destroyed my life! I'll kill you!!!!" the voice said. Href.

Barney was still clueless. After all, he ruined a lot of people's lives. The figure stepped out of the crowd. "B.. B.. Bob the lizard? But.. but.. I thought you were..." Cqukdip.

"Dead," Bob finished his sentence. "No. I wasn't dead. That's just what I made everyone think. You see, when I was supposedly electrocuted, my suit had saved me. I was thrown off into the bottom of a cliff, I was drugged, and left for dead in Mexico. After months of eating shrubs, I still had not regained my strength. That's when smiley face showed up. He took me here. The caffeine ran through my veins, and before long, I was alive again. And now I have my chance for revenge!" Bob the Lizard said. "I will kill you now." Ijit.

"Ha! You kill me? Very unlikely. I will destroy you again. I will turn you into shishcabob." Barney threatened. Rayingflorb.

"No you won't! You are nothing but a cute purple dinosaur!" Bob retorted. Juxta.

"Um, excuse me. Are you two just gonna argue all day, or is someone gonna fight here?" an anonymous bystander intervened. Vsack.

It was like a western showdown. Each waiting for the other to make a move. Suddenly an aging hipster jumps into the center. "Judo chop," he says as he hits Barney. (what's with these damn cameos. I'm waiting for James Bond to show up) It had no effect. Barney snapped his neck and Bob and Barney went back to their showdown. Rustyass.

Bob made the first move. He snapped at Barney. Barney hit back in retaliation. Barney had finally met an equal. They fight for a long time. Suddenly, the Energizer bunny walks between them (don't ask). Bob sees his chance and he eats the bunny. Then Barney, seeing his chance, eats Bob. Then a twenty foot tree frog named Slater jumps in and eats Barney.(another cameo?!) Then the twenty foot tree frog gets eaten by an eighty foot gopher. (go figure) Oddly enough, the world was saved once again. Owweek.

"Wow," was all Alison could come up with to say. After an unnerving silence, everyone cheered. Kup.

"Alison Wonderland. Now that the world is safe once again, what are you gonna do?" a journalist inquisited. Guglak.

"I'm going to bed," were the words she shoved down his throat (literally and unliterally? Don't ask). Dax.

The smiley face came up to Alison with someone. "Smiley face. There's something I've got to know. Who is his holiness, and what is the source of his power?" she pounded out of him. Blutt.

"Perhaps I can answer that," said the man accompanying smiley face. "I am the one they call his holiness. And this flannel is the source of my power," he said pointing to the flannel he was now wearing. Lyghn.

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