About the Author

Column Archive










Dan at Bedtime (guest story by Blank's Dan)
1.28.2003 by Rosemary, every Tuesday.


Hello.

This week's story is by Dan of Tangmonkey's fabulous Blank . Not only is it . . . yurgh, I'm running out of synonyms for "great". Not only is it festzikule (adj. meaning "great"), but it is also a style parody (or, if you prefer, mockery) of a bunch of my stories, particularly the hippopotamus one and also leaking. Thanks Dan!




Clyde had a problem.  When he awoke this morning, he discovered that his hands had been replaced by desk staplers.  Now, while having desk staplers for hands is obviously useful in certain instances, there are a far greater number in which hands are preferable.  Bathing yourself, for example.

Clyde decided that swift and decisive action was called for.  He reached for his phone.  After several minutes of "ka-chunka" noises, a staple finally jammed and allowed Clyde to lift the cradle.  He began to dial with his other stapler-hand.

*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*  Damn!  Wrong digit!
*ka-chunk* *dial tone*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ring*

"Hello?"

"Chuck, it's me, Clyde.  I need your help- my hands have been replaced by staplers!"

"Staplers, eh?  Wow.  You don't say.  Well, I'd love to help you, but you see, all my toes have been replaced by "Past Due" stamps.  Now that's a problem.  But I have to go, the wife is yelling something about a pencil sharpener."

"Chuck-" But Chuck had already hung up.

Clyde decided that this situation was becoming increasingly problematic. More swift action was warranted- he dialed his boss, to ask for the day off, and maybe a ride to a doctor.

*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ka-chunk* *beep,*
*ring*

Clyde's phone was definitely becoming weathered at an alarming rate.

"Midstate Office Supply."

"Chris?  It's Clyde.  Hey, I have this problem.  My hands became staplers sometime during the night.   I need the day off, and maybe a ride to the doctor."

"Well, Clyde, that's certainly a problem. Unfortunately, my ass is a photocopier and I'm running out of toner. Hold on a second. Hey, I told you, I don't collate!! Clyde, take the day off if you need it. But I have to go, I'm talking into Chrissy's elbow."

Clyde was feeling increasing despair. Would he ever be stapler-free?

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.  "It's open!" Clyde yelled, as doorknobs were beyond him at the moment.

The door swung open, and there was Clarissa from down the hall, all dark-haired and lovely and someone he'd been trying to work up the nerve to talk to, but never seemed to quite have enough.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she said, "But no one else seems to be home.  I have this problem-" She slowly raised her hands, revealing eight staple removers in place of her fingers.  She blushed.

For once, Clyde knew just what to do.  He held up his stapler-hands. Clarissa stared, then smiled.  "Mind if I sit down?" she asked, shyly.

"Not at all!" replied Clyde.

She stayed for a long time.




Disclaimer | Email Us | Dance!
Text, images, design, and our groovy mojo are ©
return to the top of the page