A Symphony unto Oneself

Chapter 4

The Story The Authors

Gurn Blansten and Little Socco dug their heals into the soft muddy forest floor but it was to no avail. They were too far outnumbered by their Dextroid captors. Gurn decided he'd try to reason with them. Calm, cool reasoning, that would do the trick. "Listen, fellows, you are making a big mistake. We've nearly got Pencilthinmoustache in a trap. If you let us go, we can retrieve him and bring him to you like we promised." Valetroeie stuck his finger in Gurn's nose and said "IUt's rtoo lsatew fgor rthart nmow. FGranmd Ploobah Brecchibrecchibrecchi issd tirted ovf wauitnfg for youu tpo gvbring bsack Pencilthinmoustache. NMwow uyou wiull play weith your lkives." With that, Vetroeie took his finger out of Gurn's nose, slapped Little Socco three times on the top of his head and they continued on towards Jungakelchenborn. cuddles

As the party neared Jungakelchenborn Gurn stopped suddenly to point into the sky. High overhead a tiny sleigh drawn by 8 tiny beasts was disappearing into distant wisps of cirrus clouds. And floating down over the swamp land was an enormous wooden crate suspended from 3 huge cargo parachutes! "Look," shouted Gurn to their Dextroid captors, "cargo is floating down from 3 huge parachutes!" Tom L.

"Consarn it!" cried the Dextroid Flinganboodle, "I distinctly ordered green parachutes! Someone will pay for this!" Hans Svensen

Suddenly Valetroie, whose gender had not been completely established by Gurn or by Little Socco, although the little fellow had been doing his darndest to cop a peek under Valetroie's scanty outfit, burst into clear and perfect song. A tale from a long-lost childhood book of poems by the Keary sisters, sung as she stared after the now vanished sleigh- "CURLY clouds of snowy white, Fleecy islands in the light, Prettier than cotton-wool, Come and be my bed to-night. E'en a king would not disdain Golden cloud for counterpane, White ones for the sheets so cool, Pillows like a silken skein! Oh! to sleep and dream, and wake With the cloud's first morning shake, Hear the broad Earth stir below, Watch the shining daylight break! Lying safe upon my cloud, Feeling like a fairy proud, Sailing softly I should go, Singing like the larks aloud!" All the other Dextroids, who had been rushing towards the crate, stopped dead in their tracks. To listen in fascination. The shadow of the deceptively onrushing crate made a lovely growing circle around the nasty little fellows as they listened raptly to their leader's song. The parachutes suddenly turned red. Tom L.

Oh, the parachutes. Of all the lucsious colors in the world, why red? for red is the color of evil, is it not? and red is the color of love. shall we fear red or embrace it in welcome arms? or shall we shy away from the prospect of love? what to do, what to do. kim

That was what the Dextroids were thinking as suddenly the parachutes broke and the cargo squashed them. Only Valetroie and her companion Caitlimn survived. "Owwwm," groaned Caitlimn, "the catrhgo hoit my gfoot!" "Shiout oiup..," said Valetroie, "at leadst wae atre mnoyt sdead. Noe w help me get ythese sgioutys home, them mn there;s'll be omne fot r each of ius." "Yealh.," said Caitlimn, "as ifm, tyoiu are like the qiueen of baifgamy you knoew that? I;s'ssl vbe liuchkey if youi evemn give me one of their kids!" "Oh Caitslimn.," said Valetroie, "whiuy woiulsd I do that? I get the boig one, tyoi u get the little one." "Aww come on CXValetuyuuitroie," whined Caitlimn, "hes not onlsd enougnh to be any fun! Why axcant we both get the big one/?" "But yutjhemn we;'s d gfhoave to take turmsns!" Whilt Caitlimn and Valetroie argued, Gorn and Little Socco snuck away. They were almost free when... Carolyn

Mr. Tickles snapped the television off with a curse. He couldn't stand that show! Why, even public television had become incurably corrupted by greed and by sitcom characters so lacking in even a single appealing characteristic they deserved their own subsection in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (Revised Third Edition).
He drew back the curtains and looked outside. "Heh-heh-heh," he cackled; "What game shall we play today?" he asked himself, or the room, or no one, his eyes slowly but surely fixing with a mad gleam upon St. Mary di Giovanni Apostolic Elementary School across the street, where juicy young children in uniforms ran and screamed across the playground. Yes! Yes indeed. He felt the ends of his upper fangs with his fingertips. Yum-yum. He smacked his lips. Juicy children for dinner, ho-ho. Yum yum yum. Philip

The Story	The Authors
Gurn Blansten and Little Socco dug their heals into the soft muddy forest floor but it was to no avail. They were too far outnumbered by their Dextroid captors. Gurn decided he'd try to reason with them. Calm, cool reasoning, that would do the trick. "Listen, fellows, you are making a big mistake. We've nearly got Pencilthinmoustache in a trap. If you let us go, we can retrieve him and bring him to you like we promised." Valetroeie stuck his finger in Gurn's nose and said "IUt's rtoo lsatew fgor rthart nmow. FGranmd Ploobah Brecchibrecchibrecchi issd tirted ovf wauitnfg for youu tpo gvbring bsack Pencilthinmoustache. NMwow uyou wiull play weith your lkives." With that, Vetroeie took his finger out of Gurn's nose, slapped Little Socco three times on the top of his head and they continued on towards Jungakelchenborn.	cuddles
As the party neared Jungakelchenborn Gurn stopped suddenly to point into the sky. High overhead a tiny sleigh drawn by 8 tiny beasts was disappearing into distant wisps of cirrus clouds. And floating down over the swamp land was an enormous wooden crate suspended from 3 huge cargo parachutes! "Look," shouted Gurn to their Dextroid captors, "cargo is floating down from 3 huge parachutes!"	Tom L.
"Consarn it!" cried the Dextroid Flinganboodle, "I distinctly ordered green parachutes! Someone will pay for this!"	Hans Svensen
Suddenly Valetroie, whose gender had not been completely established by Gurn or by Little Socco, although the little fellow had been doing his darndest to cop a peek under Valetroie's scanty outfit, burst into clear and perfect song. A tale from a long-lost childhood book of poems by the Keary sisters, sung as she stared after the now vanished sleigh- "CURLY clouds of snowy white, Fleecy islands in the light, Prettier than cotton-wool, Come and be my bed to-night. E'en a king would not disdain Golden cloud for counterpane, White ones for the sheets so cool, Pillows like a silken skein! Oh! to sleep and dream, and wake With the cloud's first morning shake, Hear the broad Earth stir below, Watch the shining daylight break! Lying safe upon my cloud, Feeling like a fairy proud, Sailing softly I should go, Singing like the larks aloud!" All the other Dextroids, who had been rushing towards the crate, stopped dead in their tracks. To listen in fascination. The shadow of the deceptively onrushing crate made a lovely growing circle around the nasty little fellows as they listened raptly to their leader's song. The parachutes suddenly turned red.	Tom L.
Oh, the parachutes. Of all the lucsious colors in the world, why red? for red is the color of evil, is it not? and red is the color of love. shall we fear red or embrace it in welcome arms? or shall we shy away from the prospect of love? what to do, what to do.	kim
That was what the Dextroids were thinking as suddenly the parachutes broke and the cargo squashed them. Only Valetroie and her companion Caitlimn survived. "Owwwm," groaned Caitlimn, "the catrhgo hoit my gfoot!" "Shiout oiup..," said Valetroie, "at leadst wae atre mnoyt sdead. Noe w help me get ythese sgioutys home, them mn there;s'll be omne fot r each of ius." "Yealh.," said Caitlimn, "as ifm, tyoiu are like the qiueen of baifgamy you knoew that? I;s'ssl vbe liuchkey if youi evemn give me one of their kids!" "Oh Caitslimn.," said Valetroie, "whiuy woiulsd I do that? I get the boig one, tyoi u get the little one." "Aww come on CXValetuyuuitroie," whined Caitlimn, "hes not onlsd enougnh to be any fun! Why axcant we both get the big one/?" "But yutjhemn we;'s d gfhoave to take turmsns!" Whilt Caitlimn and Valetroie argued, Gorn and Little Socco snuck away. They were almost free when...	Carolyn
Mr. Tickles snapped the television off with a curse. He couldn't stand that show! Why, even public television had become incurably corrupted by greed and by sitcom characters so lacking in even a single appealing characteristic they deserved their own subsection in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (Revised Third Edition). He drew back the curtains and looked outside. "Heh-heh-heh," he cackled; "What game shall we play today?" he asked himself, or the room, or no one, his eyes slowly but surely fixing with a mad gleam upon St. Mary di Giovanni Apostolic Elementary School across the street, where juicy young children in uniforms ran and screamed across the playground. Yes! Yes indeed. He felt the ends of his upper fangs with his fingertips. Yum-yum. He smacked his lips. Juicy children for dinner, ho-ho. Yum yum yum.	Philip

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