A Symphony unto Oneself

Chapter 3

The Story The Authors

A girl named Mary came up onto the setting and stopped all of the action. "THIS MAKES NO SENSE!" She shouted. "NEW STORY!" Mary

"Hey Mary, bite me!" screamed Mr Tickles and quickly beat Mary to death with his clublike penis. another mary

All of this just aroused Gendarme Pencilthinmoustache's suspicions even more that something was not right about Jake and Mr Tickles. He decided to watch them a bit more closely. Lanark

Putting his proverbial shoulder to the ethereal grindstone, so to speak, Officer Pencilthinmoustache, the very pride of Scotland Yard, broke camp, leaving so little a trace of himself that even Smokey Bear would have been proud, and, hoisting his rucksack back onto his shoulders, he set out into the humid jungle, following the trail of Jake and Mr. Tickles, his presence announced by the loud screeches of howler-monkeys. Philip

And here the detective's supreme, inscrutable cleverness must be noted: the previous day, when he first caught sight of those two rapscallions traipsing through the fecund rainforest, Officer Pencilthinmoustache, using a blowgun given him by his friend Fashocha, chief of the Tarahumara, had shot a strychnine breadcrumb generator into the rolled-up cuff of Mr. Tickles' left pantleg. This way, a breadcrumb trail would be generated behind them, which the brightly colored parrots of the jungle would fly down and devour, subsequently dying of strychnine poisoning within seconds, leaving a florid trail of dead parrots for Officer Pencilthinmoustache to follow the dastardly duo's progress by. El Sapo de Misterio

Unfortunately, Officer P. had not counted on the fact that most of the parrots had been slowly building up an immunity to strychnine by constantly dropping bad acid laced with the substance. These were no ordinary parrots ... vanblah

Nevertheless, enough of them died to leave him a followable, if intermittant, trail, accompanied by the demented hippy screechings of the still-living parrots in the trees above. "Arrrk! Don't take the brown acid," "Raaawk! 'Scuse me while I kiss this guy," and "The girl with colitis goes by" were his favorites. Philip

Officer Pencilthinmoustache decided to pause in his search for Jake and Mr. Tickles to arrest the parrots for dropping acid. It turned out they were not only drug dealers but also had broken into granaries and pecked security guards to death so many times that they deserved life in jail. He made a note in his notebook that once he had found the not-so-dastardly duo he should send freight helicopters to capture all the parrots in south america. Then he resumed following the trail of dead parrots (in the mean time writing his notebook that the sanitation department really should do something about those dead parrots after they had served their purpouse), trying to figure out what to arrest Jake and Mr. Tickles for when he caught up to them. Suddenly, he came to the end of the dead parrot trail. Oh no! he thought. The batteries on the strychnine breadcrumb generator must have ran out! Carolyn

He had no chioce but to stick his hand down his pants Ad Rock

And pull his pipe from his pocket. These were a wily pair. He lit his pipe and stood thoughtfully for a moment contemplating his next move. They had won this round, perhaps. But nobody evades the steely gaze of Officer Pencilthinmoustache for long. He puffed pensively and waited for inspiration to strike him.
Meanwhile Jake and Mr Tickles had reached a clearing in the jungle. There were a number of thatched huts and what appeared to be a crude landing strip. A roughly hewn road was swallowed by the lush jungle vegetation at the far end of the strip. Nobody seemed to be about so the pair set about investigating the huts. Lanark

They walked into the first hut and met a pair of strange looking fellows. Actually, it was almost like looking into a mirror. Jake spoke up first. "Um, is that an airstrip out there?" he asked. "I swear!" replied the tall fellow in the hut. "People have no manners these days." he continued, rolling his eyes. "Aren't you even going to introduce yourself before you start questioning us? Nevermind, I know who you are. Jake and Mr. Tickles, I am Gurn Blansten and this is my friend Little Socco." "Charmed I'm sure." grunted Mr. Tickles with more than a touch of sarcasm. "And you two are nothing but a pile of ashes washed away by a tsunami." "Oh yeah," said Jake and he and Mr. Tickles vanished in a puff of smoke. "Don't worry!" Gurn Blansten called after them. "Little Socco and I will take it from here!" Little Socco looked up at Gurn and tugged at his shirt. "Gurn, what about Pencilthinmoustache?" "Fear not, my diminutive companion. He is just about to fall into my trap, hee hee hee." cuddles

The Story	The Authors
A girl named Mary came up onto the setting and stopped all of the action. "THIS MAKES NO SENSE!" She shouted. "NEW STORY!"	Mary
"Hey Mary, bite me!" screamed Mr Tickles and quickly beat Mary to death with his clublike penis.	another mary
All of this just aroused Gendarme Pencilthinmoustache's suspicions even more that something was not right about Jake and Mr Tickles. He decided to watch them a bit more closely.	Lanark
Putting his proverbial shoulder to the ethereal grindstone, so to speak, Officer Pencilthinmoustache, the very pride of Scotland Yard, broke camp, leaving so little a trace of himself that even Smokey Bear would have been proud, and, hoisting his rucksack back onto his shoulders, he set out into the humid jungle, following the trail of Jake and Mr. Tickles, his presence announced by the loud screeches of howler-monkeys.	Philip
And here the detective's supreme, inscrutable cleverness must be noted: the previous day, when he first caught sight of those two rapscallions traipsing through the fecund rainforest, Officer Pencilthinmoustache, using a blowgun given him by his friend Fashocha, chief of the Tarahumara, had shot a strychnine breadcrumb generator into the rolled-up cuff of Mr. Tickles' left pantleg. This way, a breadcrumb trail would be generated behind them, which the brightly colored parrots of the jungle would fly down and devour, subsequently dying of strychnine poisoning within seconds, leaving a florid trail of dead parrots for Officer Pencilthinmoustache to follow the dastardly duo's progress by.	El Sapo de Misterio
Unfortunately, Officer P. had not counted on the fact that most of the parrots had been slowly building up an immunity to strychnine by constantly dropping bad acid laced with the substance. These were no ordinary parrots ...	vanblah
Nevertheless, enough of them died to leave him a followable, if intermittant, trail, accompanied by the demented hippy screechings of the still-living parrots in the trees above. "Arrrk! Don't take the brown acid," "Raaawk! 'Scuse me while I kiss this guy," and "The girl with colitis goes by" were his favorites.	Philip
Officer Pencilthinmoustache decided to pause in his search for Jake and Mr. Tickles to arrest the parrots for dropping acid. It turned out they were not only drug dealers but also had broken into granaries and pecked security guards to death so many times that they deserved life in jail. He made a note in his notebook that once he had found the not-so-dastardly duo he should send freight helicopters to capture all the parrots in south america. Then he resumed following the trail of dead parrots (in the mean time writing his notebook that the sanitation department really should do something about those dead parrots after they had served their purpouse), trying to figure out what to arrest Jake and Mr. Tickles for when he caught up to them. Suddenly, he came to the end of the dead parrot trail. Oh no! he thought. The batteries on the strychnine breadcrumb generator must have ran out!	Carolyn
He had no chioce but to stick his hand down his pants	Ad Rock
And pull his pipe from his pocket. These were a wily pair. He lit his pipe and stood thoughtfully for a moment contemplating his next move. They had won this round, perhaps. But nobody evades the steely gaze of Officer Pencilthinmoustache for long. He puffed pensively and waited for inspiration to strike him. Meanwhile Jake and Mr Tickles had reached a clearing in the jungle. There were a number of thatched huts and what appeared to be a crude landing strip. A roughly hewn road was swallowed by the lush jungle vegetation at the far end of the strip. Nobody seemed to be about so the pair set about investigating the huts.	Lanark
They walked into the first hut and met a pair of strange looking fellows. Actually, it was almost like looking into a mirror. Jake spoke up first. "Um, is that an airstrip out there?" he asked. "I swear!" replied the tall fellow in the hut. "People have no manners these days." he continued, rolling his eyes. "Aren't you even going to introduce yourself before you start questioning us? Nevermind, I know who you are. Jake and Mr. Tickles, I am Gurn Blansten and this is my friend Little Socco." "Charmed I'm sure." grunted Mr. Tickles with more than a touch of sarcasm. "And you two are nothing but a pile of ashes washed away by a tsunami." "Oh yeah," said Jake and he and Mr. Tickles vanished in a puff of smoke. "Don't worry!" Gurn Blansten called after them. "Little Socco and I will take it from here!" Little Socco looked up at Gurn and tugged at his shirt. "Gurn, what about Pencilthinmoustache?" "Fear not, my diminutive companion. He is just about to fall into my trap, hee hee hee."	cuddles

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