Self preservation…

13 04 2008

Cold meat

Well, apparently Mrs. Flibble had no idea how to re-attach my head.  

Splendid. 

So as to ensure that I remained suitably fresh my head got unceremoniously dumped in the fridge, awaiting the head re-attachment skills of Matron.  It’s now been nearly 47 minutes and I have to say my ears are getting a touch chilly.  It’s not all bad though  – 10 minutes ago I managed to scare four fellow inmates as they each tried to steal an egg.  Fools.  I can still hear the screaming (because I at least still have my ears attached).  Oh, and another bonus –  I’ve also got as much celery as anyone could possibly stomach. 

Splendid.

Bit bored though.  After the excitement of learning that the light does indeed go off when the door is closed, everything else is dull in comparison.  The lard especially so.  

*tries to blink in an exciting way to reduce the boredom*

*fails*

I don’t even have any thumbs to twiddle. 

*sigh*

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It explains everything…

12 04 2008

It explains everything

Things weren’t running smoothly.  My nipples had been singing Celine Dion songs when they were under direct orders to stick to Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.  So when they reached the highs of “My heart will go on”, Mrs. Flibble took immediate and decisive action to fix things.

A quick rummage later, the source of the problem was obvious.  My obfulcantonator had become tangled with my nongle.  That’s pretty serious and if it hadn’t of been caught in time, my nipples could have moved on to Dolly Parton.

Now er… well… um… Mrs. Flibble may have introduced a few more problems with her pioneering surgery technique.  I’m sure Matron will have me back in working order in no time.

Splendid.

 

 





Dreading the spin cycle…

10 04 2008

Dreading the spin cycle

One minute I was happily loading in my socks, then a strange sensation of being kicked, then darkness.

That’s when it started getting wet.

…and now I fear the worst… I’d set it to heavy soil.  Where’s Matron anyway?  Surely she…

Oh.

I understand now.

*sobs*





Being vacuumed up yet again…

9 04 2008

Being vacuumed up yet again...

If there’s one thing that Matron likes, it’s a good clean mental facility.  Apparently section 14 is a spotless triumph, clean enough to manufacture the circuitry in my head.  Although I’ve never been in there, I guess I’m living proof that the quality of the chip manufacture is top notch and error free.

Sadly, that can’t be said for any of the other sections.  Section 27b for example (the place where they clone washed up B list celebrities from the 1980s) is pretty atrocious.  My heart sank today when Matron told me it was my task to give it a good scrub, so to keep my spirits high, I made sure I had a deluxe pack of 47 broccoli pills at hand.

Initially things were going well.

I managed to sneak past at least 14 Bob carolgees’s before they started wiggling their moustaches and the throng of Paul Daniels and Debbie McGee’s were mesmerised by my giant interlocking metal hoops.  I only had a couple of metres to go before I reached the cleaning cupboard when a stray Debbie managed to dazzle me with her sequin leotard.  Momentarily blinded, I was forced off target and ended up feeling altogether woozy as I stumbled into the human cloning machinery.

It was ace.  Best thing that’s ever happened to me.  Especially now that my head feels altogether more spacious after the machine crashed when cloning my brain.  Good job that Matron was savvy enough to program it to share things equally between the two er… “results” if things go wrong.  Splendid.

With two me’s, the B list celebrities didn’t stand a chance.  I swallowed half the broccoli pills each and was able to start the vacuuming whilst simultaneously the other I could distract the celebs with the promise of a new Saturday night prime-time TV show.

That’s when I made a schoolboy vacuuming error.   In an effort to speed things along, I turned up the power for a bit of industrial strength carpet sucking…

*sigh*

Third time this week I’ve vacuumed myself up.

 





The new prototypes have arrived…

8 04 2008

This one tastes of wishes

 Matron’s just let me try one of the new prototypes.

*simper*

The specification is truly splendid. They’re meant to keep my knees from shrinking, keep my ear wax production in check and (this is the bit I’m most excited about) prolong that feeling you get after taking one of the pink and yellow pills. I can hardly wait.

*dribble*

*looks at dosage advice on the side of the crate*

“Adults should take 37, every hour. To be taken with weak lemon drink. Failure to drink weak lemon drink may result in elbow itching. Do not eat. May contain nuts.”

Nothing out of the ordinary then.

Splendid.