A Very Lola Engagement

Lovely Lola had ceased to be Hermana Lovely, and had returned to be Lola again, and had begun practicing her Spanish with anyone who would respond. She often frustrated her sister Claudette the Crazy by speaking in Spanish—in her sleep. It kept Claudette awake at night, listening over and over to things like, “El pollo es gordo…” and other such ramblings. Claudette would throw pillows at Lola, but Lola was a deep sleeper.

Lola’s Gordon the Goob was now Elder Goob, and was very busy with other things, and was unavailable to speak Spanish to her. This made her very sad, but alas, we cannot always have what we want, can we? Especially when we dream of having a tall handsome Wookie feed us peeled grapes. Ahem. That happens to be what Fluff wants, but back to the story.

Lola went to events where Spanish was spoken, and she found herself having quite the grand time. She mixed. She mingled. And, occasionally, she mangled. Her Spanish, that is. She wasn’t perfect, but she always learned something new.

One day close to Christmas, as she was enjoying her time at a Mexican luncheon, she noticed a tall dark handsome stranger at a nearby table. “Hot Cha!” Lola thought. “Maybe I can meet him…” She began to wish very hard that she might meet Mystery Man. She closed her eyes and began muttering unintelligibly in a mixture of Spanish and English.

Just as she was muttering, “Where is the camel?”, lo and behold, who should arrive on the scene but Merv, the Fairy God-Cabbie!

“Aw, jeez…” Merv groaned as he noticed he was wearing a large colorful sombrero and holding a pair of maracas. He was still wearing his tutu. Then he looked down at Lola. “You again? Why is it always you?”

Lola looked around, but no one seemed to notice that Merv had appeared from nowhere. She whispered, “Hola. I need your help. I want to meet him. Muy guapo!”

Merv stared at Lola a moment, then rolled his eyes, muttering, “Oy vey.” Then he held her face in his ands, pinching her cheeks slightly as he did so, in order to have Lola looking him in the eyes instead of drooling over the Mystery Man. “Listen, Lila, Lulu, or whateveh yeh name is: If you wink twice with your left eye, you will be able to meet him.” And then Merv was gone in a puff of smoke that smelled suspiciously like Cuban cigars and cumin.

Lola concentrated; winking was a difficult task, and she did not want to do it incorrectly. Slowly, she winked once, then a second time, and… Nothing happened. The Mystery Man did not notice, and he did not magically stand up, run to her, and whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

Lola was furious with Merv, the Fairie God-Cabbie. “He lied!” she seethed. Here eyes glowered and she felt her jaw clench in anger. “I will find that cabbie and get him, if it’s the last thing I do!” Lola was not happy.

As she seethed, however, she began to twist her hair, as she was wont to do when she was frustrated, angry, sleeping, eating, singing, or playing hopscotch. She continued her hair twisting, name calling, and obscenity muttering until, sad but true, she had twisted half of her hair into one large knot! As she noticed this, she realized that, finally, the Mystery Man had looked her way, and was now smiling curiously at her strange coiffure. Lola wanted to cry. She wanted to die. She wanted to crawl in a hole and sleep until the Mystery Man was gone and no longer laughing at her. She looked down in her lap, trying not to cry.

Behind her, in a soft voice, she heard a whisper: “Siempre me encuentro sin cepillo.” This was Spanish. Which only makes sense at a Mexican luncheon. But I do not speak Spanish. Luckily for me, you, and the people who believe Spanish is the name of an exotic dancer and not a language, Lola included a translation for us. What he said, really was “I always find myself without a brush.”

Lola swooned. He had noticed her predicament! He had noticed her hair, and he had offered to help! She felt quite lovely, indeed, bad hair notwithstanding. He proceeded to sit down next to her, and help her detangle her hair. They spoke, chatted, conversed and canoodled, during which time, Lola learned the Mystery Man’s name: Oscar Olvidadizo. (Lola at first refused to translate this name for me, but apparently it means Oscar the Grouch. What? I can’t hear you! Lalalalalalala! Okay, Lola has insisted that I tell the truth: “Oscar” is Spanish for “Oscar” and “Olvidadizo” is Spanish for “Forgetful.” So the truth is that his name means Forgetful Oscar. Time will tell if he is, indeed, forgetful.)

While she eventually translated the name for the benefit of the readership, she refused to give me a blow-by-blow account of their conversation. Seeing as that is the case, I shall have to construct dialogue for them myself. (See? This is what happens when you ignore perfectly reasonable requests, LOLA.)

He said: Your eyes are lovely.
She said: Yours are, too!
He said: Why, thank you! Would you like to marry me?
She said: Well, can I think about it? I just met you.
He said: Well, how about if I give you five minutes?
She said: Okay.

******

Five minutes later…
She said: Okay.
He said: “Okay” what?
She said: “Okay” I will marry you.
He said: Really?
She said: (smiles and nods)
He said: Congratulations!
She said: I must thank Merv.
He said: (quizzical look)

******

And so, just like that, Lovely Lola was engaged to Oscar Olvidadizo. Lovely Lola had found herself a Lovely Fiancée. She was swept off her feet when he whispered to her, “Siempre me encuentro sin cepillo.” And the world rejoiced. Or, at least, her friends and family did.

And Lola was happy. Until she realized this meant planning a Wedding. As New Year’s approached, Lola began to think of themes for her wedding. She looked back at her sister Claudette’s wedding, and remembered that Claudette had incorporated a Friedrick and Fluff Theme to her wedding. Lola frowned. She also remembered, all too well, how disastrously the Underwater Theme worked. She tried to remember Masked Mal’s wedding, and what theme that entailed. Looking back through her journals of the misty event, it appeared that Mal had developed a “Costumes by Merv” theme.

“Hmmm…” Lola mused. “No Friedrick and Fluff theme, and no “Costumes by Merv” theme; whatever shall I do?” And she began to wail miserably. She did not notice the fireworks outside celebrating the New Year, and that one had landed on the roof of her Lovely Home. She continued stewing about her dilemma, feeling as though her head were covered in a woolen sock, because not only was she having difficulty thinking, but now she was having difficulty seeing, and breathing. That was odd, she thought.

Just then, in a puff of smoke, Wodin burst into the room. “Quick!” she yelled at Lola. “The roof! The roof! The roof is on fire!” Ahem. Actually, she said, “”Lo! The fire has descended upon this dwelling! It is necessary that we run! But not faster than we have strength, of course!” So Wodin and Lola began running, snagging the sleeping Claudette as they did (Why was Claudette sleeping in the middle of the day? you may ask? Because Lola spoke in her sleep, preventing Claudette from getting her nighttime repose, that’s why! Didn’t I already explain that?).

As Lola, Wodin, and Claudette waited for the fire department, Lola had an epiphany. She saw a light above her (although some would claim it was simply flames from the fire, but that is just THEIR version of events), and in that light, she saw Friedrick and Fluff wearing firemen hats and wearing red suspenders. It was then that Lola knew: her wedding would be Firefighter Themed! And lo, some good came from this tragic tragedy. Besides, the firemen who arrived were exceedingly cute, and yea, Wodin and Claudette did flirt. Lola would have, but she was too busy planning her wedding.

And that was that.

Stay tuned for next week’s party in a box, when Wodin loses her mind, Lola tries on a thousand wedding dresses, Claudette finds the perfect pair of shoes, and Fluff tap dances upon Wayne Newton’s head yet again.

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Flush Away: 2004 Athens Olympics

Well, folks. Time once again for the great Friedrick and Fluff to return from their long silence. Enjoy this tale of heroism, pudding, and stupid commentators.

Once again it is an election year, as well as a Summer Olympic year, and where should we find ourselves, but at the sides of our lovely friends, Friedrick and Fluff! And who should be by their sides, but Lovely Lola and Wodin the Wise! And who should be by their sides but Stan Q. Fitzhubert, and Claudette the Crazy, and they were flanked by some strangers in black trench coats, because of security. (After all, Friedrick and Fluff were presidential candidates, and under the protection of the Secret Service. But you didn’t hear it from me. Sshhh! It’s a secret! Very hush-hush!) Friedrick and Fluff were accompanied by so many people because of their need for many trainers and coaches for the summer Olympics, and so they all got to join in the festivities. Lola was there as their campaign manager and liaison to the press, Wodin was there to train with Friedrick for his Toilet Flushing competition, Claudette was there to ensure that Fluff would be properly stretched for her turn on the balance beam, and Stan was there to make sure that Friedrick and Fluff were properly coiffed and choreographed for their synchronized diving competition, which was to be held the very first day after arriving at the Olympics.

The Olympics were in Athens, and the bears had never been there on any of their strange adventures, so this was an altogether new location. Some players, however, were the same as on the previous stage: the great Toilet Flushing Champion Rodion Romanovich was back to challenge Friedrick and take back the gold medal. Romanovich had clearly been pumping iron, and Friedrick gulped when he first saw his old nemesis at the opening ceremonies, hosted by the intolerable Rob Costless and Karly Colic. Upon witnessing the strained grin between the two competitors, Rob remarked to Karly, “I think we’re in for a doozy when it comes to the competition between those two!” Karly nodded and grinned and added, “But just look at their outfits! Just darling!” She would have continued, but the Bermudans were next, and Karly was distracted by the shorts with knee-length socks.


DAY 1: Synchronized Diving
Fluff and Friedrick paced around the locker room, shaking out their limbs and going through the motions of their dives. Stan was there, reminding them to “bend at the waist into the pike position, and then pull out and do the splits, and then make sure you guys are vertical for your entry! Sheesh!” She also pulled a hair pick out of her purse and attempted to fluff Fluff’s fluff one last time before the competition, but Fluff was moving too rapidly for the excitable hairdresser to catch her and fluff her fluff. And before they knew it, the Canadians had just dived (two 9.5’s, one 8, and one 9), and they were next. The bears’ move was very difficult, one that no one had ever seen before. In fact, few people had ever witnessed a diving teddy bear before, much less two of them diving in synch. Anyhow, their move was to finally tell Luke that he was his father, and then try to convince him to join his father in the Dark Side and then they… Whoops. Actually, their move was a three and a half twist Gorvachian with a double somersault with a cherry on top. Well, all of that except the cherry. Strike the cherry.

Those two tenacious teddy bears ascended the stairs to the platform and took their position.

“It appears that those two tenacious teddies are back, Rob, trying to work some magic in the synchronized diving competition” said Karly.

“Hush,” said Rob. “We’re tired of you.” Oh, stop. He did not (I just wish he did). He really said, “Apparently, it is time to see if these bears can pull a little more out of the hat than just a bunch of air. We are really hoping for the white rabbit here,” he said.

Karly laughed and added, “And the gold medal from behind the ear, right Rob?”

They chortled together and Friedrick and Fluff counted off: “One, Two, Three.” They leapt from the platform, twisted counterclockwise three times, somersaulted twice, and then dove into the water straight as a pin! The crowd roared! The Canadians looked furious, and the Russians looked mildly bored (Marina Kahzachurian knew this was a dive she could complete in her sleep. As a four-year-old.)

Rob was speechless, until Karly sniped, “Definitely no gold medal from thin air, here. It seemed impressive, but they made some huge errors here, and just let me tell you about them….” She listed off several, but missing the largest of them all: Friedrick had not been in synch with Fluff; he had done the entire dive backwards, even starting out in a handstand instead of on his feet. The judges quickly noticed this, and granted them one 4.5 (from the Malaysian judge, who looked a bit like a bear, actually, so you never know if he was on the up and up…), and the rest 1.5’s. The Canadians were relieved, and the Russians were still bored. This was because they had yet to perform their dive. When the Russians did, it was a quadruple twisting back flip with a 3.5 somersault. It blew the Canadians out of the water (so to speak) and destroyed that ridiculously smug look they had. Fluff and Friedrick did not win, but Fluff leaned over and said, “Better a satisfied Russian than a gloating Canadian. It would ruin their complex.” Friedrick ceased his tears long enough to hiccup and nod. Then it was back to the crying again. Oy.


DAY 2: Training
Fluff and Friedrick took time to prepare for the events in the upcoming days and enjoy Greek culture. (Kimono… Kimono… Comes from the Greek word for Robe… Robe, Kimono, there you go.) As they roamed the Plaka in downtown Athens, Friedrick wandered a bit away from the rest of the group to look at the gyros in a deli window, when suddenly, he looked up, and on the other side of the window was Romanovich. The Russian competitor sneered and made crushing motions with his fist into the palm of his other hand. Friedrick froze, only a tiny, “Eeep!” escaping his lips. Then Rodion licked his lips and bit down into the very gyro that Friedrick had been ogling. Yikes! Friedrick was no longer very hungry, and he hurriedly caught up with the gang and the Secret Service agents, who were obviously very bad at their jobs.


DAY 3: Gymnastics
This was going to be tough for Fluff, and she knew it. Claudette had worked with her ceaselessly on her moves: cartwheels, somersaults, back flips, and her secret move, the Galloping Clodhopper. It was her very own move, one she hoped would vault her into first place (so to speak), ahead of that lemon-faced Russian gymnast. Claudette gave her some last minute advice: “If she comes after you, just pop her once, really good, in the mouth and then watch out. She has a nasty uppercut.” Fluff nodded, Claudette backed away, and Fluff prepared to mount the beam.

“So what do you think are Fluff’s chances at a medal here, Karly?” Rob asked.

“Well,” Karly mused, “It all depends on whether or not she has any Chez Whiz on her paws this time. Let’s take a look at what happened in Sydney.” Film clips of Fluff’s slip from the balance beam four years ago played in slow-motion three separate times in three different angles, the last clearly zooming in and showing the last bit of Chez Whiz on her paw, causing a slow-motion slip.

“Ouch, Karly, looks like that hurt!”

“You better believe it, Rob!”

Fluff performed without equal on the beam. Other gymnasts looked on in awe as she did her moves, and gasped when she unleashed her Galloping Clodhopper, a move where she High Stepped and Clodhopped across the beam before dismounting by soaring into the air before landing perfectly on one paw.

It was amazing. It was fabulous. It was illegal.

Disqualified, Fluff limped from the mat into Claudette’s consoling arms.

“Ah-ah-ah-I wanna wiiiiin!” she bawled.

“There, there,” soothed Claudette. “We need to be ready in case Sour Puss comes over. Remember: Watch the uppercut.” Fluff sniffed and wiped her eyes and struck a karate pose. When the mean Russian gymnast walked over to sneer and laugh, Fluff decided against the punch, and instead, she took out her blaster, set it to stun, and got the Princess just before jettisoning off in her escape pod… Whoa! I meant, instead of punching the Russian meanie, Fluff instead began to sing “Tiptoe Through the Tulips” and tap-danced on her forehead. Then she quickly ran away before the judges could decide if that was part of her routine and if they could raise Fluff’s scores for rendering the Russian Gymnast unconscious.


DAY 4: Training
Friedrick went to the Toilet Training Complex where he was to take advantage of the training time given to each athlete. He had just warmed up and was just tying his shoes when he heard a familiar laugh. “Heh heh heh.” the beefy Romanovich chortled. “You are goingk down, bearski!” Friedrick quaked but simply responded, “Eat chocolate cake with mustard custard and you have ruined your appetite.” Romanovich scratched his head and wondered if he had heard wrong or if he needed to brush up on his English. He shrugged and said, “Watch it, bearski!” and turned away to finish his training. Friedrick shuddered and went on to work a few kinks out of his routine. Those pesky Secret Service gentlemen were nowhere to be seen. Hmph.


DAY 5: Toilet Travel Competition, Time Trials
The time trials did not concern Friedrick. He knew he had to beat his personal best of 65 flushes in a minute in order to beat Romanovich at this portion of the competition, but he also knew that Romanovich had pulled a muscle in his index finger in training the week before, and so the advantage was clearly Friedrick’s. There were twelve competitors in the Time Trials: Two Russians, one from Ghana, one from Australia (he picked it up after seeing Friedrick and Romanovich compete in the Sydney Olympics), two from Spain, one from Moldova, one from Paraguay, three from China, and Friedrick.

“On your marks…”

The competitors leapt onto the rim of their toilets.

“Get Set…”

They bent at the knees and put their hands (er, and paw) on the handle.

BANG!

The competitors set about to flush, jumping in, flushing, swirling, going down, then popping up in the next toilet only to start again, flushing as many times as possible in a single minute. Friedrick was just getting his rhythm when out of the corner of his eye he saw Romanovich gaining. Faster and faster, Friedrick flushed. Finally, without seeing, Friedrick popped out of his 65th toilet to the sound of the buzzer going off. He blinked and looked: He and Romanovich had tied at 65 flushes apiece, one of the Chinese competitors had made an illegal twist during the trial, and the Ghanan had come in third. The others ranged from 50 to 60 flushes in one minute. Friedrick sighed—one portion down, two to go. Just as he was leaving the toilet, Romanovich caught his eye: “Bad news, bear: I vill vin!” He then punched the palm of his hand and made a crushing motion. It made Friedrick want to cry like Wayne Newton.


DAY 6: Toilet Travel Competition, Obstacle Course
This obstacle course was very complicated, and all of Friedrick’s supporters waited tensely in the stands. Lola bit her nails, Wodin chewed on her hair, Claudette paced, and Stan muttered to herself. To win the Obstacle Course portion, the competitors had to flush through twelve toilets, grabbing flags from the handle of each toilet the flushed. To miss a flag was a two-point penalty. To miss a toilet meant disqualification. To appear in a competitor’s toilet would also be cause for disqualification. One other thing that made this race particularly difficult is that there were no straight pipes between the toilets as there had been for the Time Trials. The meant that those twelve toilets could take much longer for inexperienced Toilet Travelers. However, we must remember who invented the Toilet Travel Method and was the first to pioneer its use as a widespread method of travel. (Say it with me: Friedrick.) (In fact, it was the Official Travel Method of the Athens Olympics. It was starting to catch on after all of those signs in the public restrooms: Don’t make Travel Tough! Make it a Travel Flush! The poster featured Friedrick holding a Royal Flush in his paws as he stood at the edge of a toilet. It was all very clever (according to Lola, who designed the signs), but all very stupid to most of the Greeks. After all, why go by toilet when you could run the Marathon? Anyhow, back to the Race.)

The competitors and Spectators were joined by indefatigable Karly Colic and Rob Costless, ready to call the competition. Of the twelve lanes available, only one was empty, lane three where the disqualified Chinese athlete should have been.

“Well, Karly, Friedrick made a good showing at yesterday’s competition, obviously the favorite in the Toilet Travel Competition, but his longtime rival, Rodion Romanovich, tied him for first. Who will win today?”

“In Sydney,” piped up Karly, “Friedrick won this portion of the event easily, simply by collecting all of his flags.”

In a slow-motion clip, they showed Friedrick grabbing a flag just as Romanovich missed one, and then a second.

“Yes, Karly, Rodion’s downfall in Sydney was his inability to collect the flags. We shall see if we have a repeat or something new.”

“I hear Rodion has been training extra hard. I mean, just look at those muscles! Rrrrrow!” Rodion looked over at Karly, winked, and then made the “call me” hand motion. Karly giggled like an anchor who had just been hit on by an athlete.

“On your mark… Get set… Go!”

The athletes jumped in and Friedrick began to navigate the toilets. One flag, two, then three, then… he missed one! Without hesitation, Friedrick backtracked to retrieve the fourth flag, hoping he was ahead enough to still win. He flushed and flushed. He swirled and swirled. The world spun crazily and he suddenly popped out of the last toilet, neck in neck with Romanovich and the Paraguayan fellow.

“This looks like it is going to be a photo finish, Karly! It appears that Romanovich may have edged out Friedrick in this round, but we will have to wait for the flag count and the photo finish.”

“Well, Rob, it may be the flag count that saves Friedrick. He took a big risk to go back and get that flag he missed, and if it turns out that either Romanovich or Gutierrez missed or illegally grabbed any flags, it may save him.”

Just then, the photo finish came out, and Friedrick was behind Romanovich but in front of Gutierrez.

“I don’t believe it, Karly, but apparently, Romanovich missed one of his flags! That will put him in third place going into tomorrow’s competition. Well, folks at home, it appears that the standings for one, two, three are the U.S., Paraguay, and Russia. We shall see what tomorrow’s competition in the Toilet Travel Specified Location competition.”


DAY 7: Toilet Travel Competition, Specified Location
Friedrick awoke early to prepare himself and ordered room service in his hotel room. When it arrived, he took the platter and the silver cover into his room. Lifting the silver cover, he saw there was his butterscotch pudding, just as he had asked, as well as a small folded up piece of paper. He unfolded it, and this is what it said:

Bear, I will win. You will become Russian Bear meat! I will eat you with a pickle on the side, and some horseradish. Mwahahahaha!

Friedrick shivered, and ate his pudding, which (was he dreaming?) appeared to have a slight horseradish aftertaste. (Question: Why are the Secret Service agents always AWOL? Discuss.)

Fluff, on the other hand, was not so anxious about his performance because she was daydreaming about Chewbacca (“The handsomest Wookie there is!” according to Fluff). She only wished Chewy would return her phone calls, e-mails, pages, and text messages. That, and that he would rescind the restraining order against her. But alas, we can’t always have what we want, can we?

Later that day…

“Welcome to the toilet Flushing Arena, here in central Athens! Today we will see if Romanovich can make a comeback, if Friedrick can hang on to his lead, and if everyone has forgotten about Paraguayan whatshisname.”

“Indeed, Rob. We shall see if any of those events will happen. But first, I shall explain the scoring in this round: Each competitor draws a random location, must flush to that location, grab the flag that is there, bring it back, and hope they were able to find the fastest route to do so. Each flag is a different color for each location, so if they go to the wrong location and bring back the wrong flag, they will be disqualified.”

As the commentators continued to banter banally, the competitors took their positions. Fluff and the rest of the gang watched, all too nervous to breathe. In fact, Lola turned purple before Wodin reminded her to breathe. Stan stood, hiding her face in her hands, peeking through the fingers, and Claudette sat still, just rather pale. Fluff couldn’t keep her eyes off the tall handsome wookie in the third row (he bore an uncanny resemblance to Chewbacca).

The drawing was to begin, in order of last to first. Finally, at Friedrick’s turn, he closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, reached in, and pulled out a piece of paper that said, “Two tomatoes, 1 gal. of milk, 1 lb. of chicken.”

“Oops,” said the red-faced official. “That’s my shopping list. Here’s the real destination: The private toilet of Niko Paraskevas in south Athens.”

Friedrick gulped, then took his position. As he readied himself, he tried to ignore Romanovich, whose grin glinted evilly. He tried to ignore the whisper that came to him, “You will be delicious, bearski! I enjoy horseradish a great deal…”

Shaking it off, Friedrick took his mark, got set, and BANG! They were off.

“Karly, this may be the magic moment for Friedrick, if only he can find Niko Paraskevas’ house and get out in time.”

“You’re forgetting, Bob, that here we have a competitor who actually wrote the book on Toilet Travel. I have it right here: Siberia and Back: the Home Companion for Toilet Travelers.”

Lola took Wodin’s advice and began breathing. In fact, she began to hyperventilate. Wodin still chewed her hair, wishing that it tasted less like shampoo and more like butterscotch pudding. Claudette had begun to turn from pale to green, appearing as though she might vomit before the race was through. Stan still peered through her fingers, and Fluff was trying to work up the courage to ask that handsome wookie for his number.

Friedrick, in the meantime, flushed himself through the plumbing system of Athens, attempting to reach his destination. He first came to the junction at the hotel plumbing and took a left, then a right after the gymnastics venue, then another left after the Acropolis, and finally straight ahead at the swimming complex.

“Karly, that move at the swimming complex was a smart one, because the volume of water there is greater than in any other spot in Athens. It could really catapult him to the Gold medal in this event!”

“Indeed, Bob.”

Finally, Friedrick popped up in Niko Paraskevas’ bathroom, grabbed the flag, and flushed himself away, once again routing himself through the Swimming Complex’s plumbing to give him that extra boost. He was flushing and feeling fine! Nothing could stop him now! He was on top of the world! He was a champio— He popped out of the toilet to see that Eduardo Gutierrez had beat him.

“Well, Karly, it appears that Whatshisname has won, leaving Friedrick with the Silver on this occasion.”

“Indeed, Bob.”

Rodion Romanovich came in fourth, after the Ghanan competitor made it back in record time. Friedrick stood there, shocked. Absolutely shocked! He was supposed to win. But then he shuddered; at least Rodion Romanovich couldn’t eat him with horseradish sauce, now.

Friedrick was shortly surrounded by his supporters. Wodin hugged him and said, “Remember, pudding is best without a side of hotdogs.” Claudette smiled wanly and patted him on the back. Stan muttered about how they could break Gutierrez’s legs and see how he dealt with that. Lola gave him a high five and said, “Next time. Now we need to concentrate on the election. I believe this is YOUR year!” Fluff was nowhere in sight. Oh, yes she was. She was right over there. By the door. Shaking hands and exchanging phone numbers with a rather large, hirsute gentleman, who looked remarkably like Chewbacca. When she finally returned, Friedrick gave her a stern glance. Blushing, she whispered, “I am sorry, but have you ever seen such a creature?” Friedrick continued to glare, until Fluff whispered, “But there is still tap-dancing left to do.” Friedrick’s eyes brightened, and he nodded.

That evening, as they watched the news in bed, the newscaster said, “In other news from Athens, both Rob Costless and Karly Colic were missing from the pole vault commentating this evening. Inquiries as to their absence led police to the local hospital, where, despite no witnesses and what appeared to be tiny footprints on their foreheads, Costless and Colic claim to have been in a suspicious motorcycle accident. We will have more for you as this unfolds. Jim, back to you.” Fluff turned off the television, and turned to Friedrick, saying in a sweet voice, “I believe that this means it is time for lemon meringue pie with pickled beets on the side.”

Friedrick responded with, “Indeed, Fluff.”

And that was that.

Brought to you today by the Friedrick and Fluff in Four campaign, Betelmann’s Horseradish Sauce, and the International Olympic Committee on Drug Testing and Arbitrary Scoring.

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Wodin the Wise--or Wisdomless?

Wodin the Wise waited in the dentist’s office, awaiting the dentist. Alas, she waited for her dentist many hours, it seemed. When finally asked to sit in the dentist chair, her dentist (whose name, coincidentally and truthfully, is Kaz) frowned, and looked closely at her teeth. He examined her back teeth most carefully, asking Wodin to open wide. He continued to examine, making such informative noises as “Hmm,” and “Well, well,” and “What have we here?” Wodin was growing ever so uncomfortable with her mouth wide open, and she was growing more nervous at every dental utterance. Finally, her dentist removed his hands and all of the shiny dental instruments from her mouth with one final, “Hmph.”

Wodin was momentarily distracted by the tiny mirror on one of the instruments, but then quickly focused, asking (directly, for once), “Doc, what’s wrong with me? Will I ever play the nose flute again?” The dentist looked at her strangely and opened his mouth to speak when she interrupted him again: “I know it’s a cavity! A giant cavity dwelling in my molars, spreading across my mouth, and I will need to have them all drilled and filled!” The dentist opened his mouth again, but she continued. “My entire mouth will consist of silver fillings! I won’t ever be able to walk through a metal detector unaccosted again! O, woe is me! Woe that I am one calamitous cavity!” And Wodin broke down sobbing, sniffling occasionally and wiping her eyes with the little blue bib dentists put on their patients.

Finally, her dentist saw his chance: “Relax!” he said. “You just need to have your wisdom teeth removed!” Wodin ceased her bawling and looked at the dentist with fire in her eyes.

“What… did… you… say?” she said, eyes narrowed, in a slowly measured voice.
“It’s a simple procedure, really, I can do it right here…” but he had missed the point.

Wodin jumped up from her chair and grabbed the dentist by the collar, and spat, “Take my wisdom teeth out? How dare you suggest such a thing!” Wodin’s dentist was obviously confused, for he looked at her with puzzlement, and slowly moved the sharp objects as far away as possible while being held by the collar. Seeing he did not comprehend the seriousness of his suggestion, Wodin rolled her eyes and explained, “I am Wodin the Wise. How can I be wise if I lack wisdom teeth?”

The dentist laughed nervously. “Um, Miss Wise? Could you please release me? I can’t really breathe.”

Wodin blushed, released her dentist, then sat back in her chair. “I am so very sorry. Please, forgive me.”

He adjusted his collar, cleared his throat, then said, “Ahem, yes, all is forgiven. But I am recommending large quantities of nitrous oxide for you when we perform the procedure.” Wodin nodded happily, not knowing what it all entailed. The prospect of funny drugs had distracted her from the very pressing problem: her wisdom teeth were to be pulled in no less than two weeks!

Alas, she arrived at the dentist’s office two weeks later, extremely nervous, and suddenly remembering that this even meant the end of her wisdom. No longer would she be able to give out such pearls of wisdom such as, “Remember, when your coffee tastes like antifreeze, it is because your dog has had puppies.” Or “Let us rejoice in the fountain of chocolate pudding and play with the frolicking Wombats.” No, Wodin realized all of her wisdom would be extracted with the teeth, but they were hurting her so very badly she was ready to let a ferret with a pickaxe extract them (and we all know what ferrets with pickaxes are like, don’t we? Let us never speak of the incident with the IRS man again. He still isn’t out of traction. But, ahem. It is time to move out of this parenthetical remark). So Wodin, sensing the need for reinforcement, employed Friedrick and Fluff to coach her through the painful experience.

Fluff had useful advice: “When they give you medicine, take it. All of it.” Wodin nodded nervously. Friedrick said, “Remember that a dentist is better than the ferret.” Wodin nodded nervously as they waited in the waiting room, where they waited waitingly. Anticipatorily, she anticipated the drugs that would soothe the throbbing in her throbbing jaw, which throbbed with great throbs. (“Hey,” stamped Fluff impatiently, “will you use a thesaurus, or what? Jeez.”) So Wodin remained in the waiting room whilst her jowls pulsated interminably, and she commenced perspiring. (So? How’s that? “Fine,” said Fluff.) Wodin began to cry, softly at first, but then it grew into a wail, and other patients first began to stare, then to look away as if avoiding her, then they began to slowly edge away from her.
Fluff attempted to comfort her, “If you should like, I crrrush this dentist, this Kaz!”

Friedrick piped up with his own helpful, yet decidedly mob-like, comments: “Yes, you want we should tap-dance upon his head? You like if we fit him with cement shoes, to sleep with the fishies? I know a little dock where no one ever goes…”
Wodin blew her nose, and shook her head. “No, I should like you to stay with me, though.” The teddy bears (tenacious, both of them!) acquiesced, and sat next to Wodin quietly as they all waited.

A hygienist entered the room. “Wise, Wodin?” Wodin rose grimly, and held the teddy bears in her arms. “Um,” the hygienist said fretfully, “we can’t allow pets back here.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Wodin assured her. “They are my teddy bears. They promise not to tap-dance on anyone’s head.” The hygienist wrinkled her brow perplexedly, but shrugged as she led Wodin back to the dentist chair. “Doctor,” the hygienist whispered, “I think Miss Wise has had enough medication already. You might want to go a little light on her with the nitrous at first.”

As though to try and convince the doctor otherwise, Wodin unleashed her final nugget of wisdom: “If there is peace in the middle school, then there is gravy on the back fence.” The dentist nodded at the hygienist, and brought out his blaster, set it to stun, just as Princess Leia was preparing to enter the escape pod, and then… Whoops! Forgot about the story there. Let’s try again: The dentist nodded at the hygienist, and brought out a hypodermic needle filled with Novocain, and numbed the Princess, I mean, Wodin, just as she was preparing to bolt. He also happened to turn on the nitrous oxide at that moment, just in case. Wodin felt all loopy, and began to smile.

“Wodin? How are you feeling?”

“Fiiiiiiiiine…” sighed Wodin. “Did you know that Dostoevsky wrote Crime and Punishment as well as The Brothers Karamazov?”

The dentist nodded. She was plenty doped. “Open wide, now, Wodin. Let’s get these bad boys out of there…”

And so it was accomplished that Wodin should be extracted—well, her teeth, anyway. She brought forth four teeth, and they were wrapped in cotton and placed in a jar, because there was no room in her mouth.

Ahem. What I mean is that the dentist took out the teeth which caused her mouth to ache, and she felt better. Well, better, that is, until her nitrous and Novocain wore off. And then it hurt like a rock to the head, but only like a rock would hurt if it caused four teeth with extremely deep roots to pop out of her mouth. Yea, verily, it did become painful, and the pain did wax strong in her mouth, and of eating there was little but pudding. And of pain relief there was Vicodin.
Ahem. I mean that she popped pills like a starving man finding M&M’s in the crevices of his couch. (“And why might a man who owns a couch be starving?” you ask. “Why has he not sold his couch to buy pizza, the sustenance we all crave?” That, my friend, has yet to be determined. But he is starving, and the M&Ms afforded little comfort, but he did eat them anyway. Quit asking questions.) So the pills were popped, the pudding was eaten, and Wodin was depressed, yes, quite sad that she was no longer Wodin the Wise, but, alas, Wodin the Wisdomless. (Shut up, spellchecker! Did I ask your opinion of that word? No, I did not. Therefore, be banished into the depths of fiery greatness! Thank you.)

Wodin was quite upset about it all, but her wonderful mother, Mommy Wise (who has her wisdom teeth, by the way) and her sister Jeanette cared for her. Jeanette did not even force her to scrub toilets, but spoon-fed her pudding and Jell-O ™.

But Wodin was still upset about having lost her wisdom. “Even Jeanette the Jumpy has wisdom teeth! Can it be that even she, Queen of the Latrine, is wiser than I, the Wise? O that it were not true!” She broke down sobbing. Friedrick and Fluff were beside themselves (not literally; literally, they were beside one another. But you get the idea).

“What should we do?” whispered Fluff.

Friedrick shrugged. “Buy her a book of quotations?”

Fluff smacked him, but he rather enjoyed it because she had honey on her paw that was transferred to his cheek, and he licked it off.

Wodin, witnessing this exchange, moaned, “Be careful of bears who lick honey from their cheeks, for they may be plotting to take over the world.”

Friedrick, Fluff, and Jeanette all stopped and stared (Mommy Wise would have, but she was at the store, purchasing pudding, by far the most important job on the planet).

“Wodin! Did you hear yourself?” Jeanette squealed like a schoolgirl.

“You are still wise!” Fluff breathed.

Wodin sat up from her supine position on the couch. “I did! I am!” she said. Then she turned to Friedrick and said, “Licking honey can be a habit difficult for bears to break, particularly if they have already slept on fluffy pillows.”

They all cheered. Mommy Wise entered at that moment and cheered because they all were, not because she knew what was going on. Of course, her cheering became genuine once she did know. And that is the story of how Wodin remained Wise.

This story is brought to you by the letter “N,” the number 23, and Jell-O ™. Don’t forget to peddle pudding in a perambulator!

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London Calling

O thou patient fans of Friedrick and Fluff, yonder awaits a newly crafted tale for your enjoyment. Proceedeth thou hence.

Once upon a time, two tenacious teddy bears lived with Jeanette and her sister, Wodin the Wise. Well, this may come as a shock to some of you, but Wodin was obsessed with England. She was constantly talking about the beautiful British Isles and bemoaning the fact that she was not there. So she decided to go there. She was ever so excited and could hardly wait for the day she could board the plane. After the fiasco in attempting to get the passport (let us never speak of it again), she believed that all would proceed smoothly. Let us take you to the midst of the story as it unfolds…

June 15, 2002

Wodin was ever so excited. She was going to London, to become Wodin the Wiser! Well, she wasn’t really going to change her name, but she thought it would really be more of a character change. Not that the character of Wodin is going to change really anytime soon, but you get the idea. Whew. Back to the gist of the story, which hasn’t really started yet.

Let’s try again: Wodin was going to London!

“Pack plenty of Underwear!” Mommy Wise suggested.

“Don’t forget your toilet plunger!” said Jeanette.

“Do you have your Passport?” Daddy Wise questioned.

“Remember that England is a dangerous country filled with wild boars as well as roaming lions, tigers and bears!” cautioned Friedrick.

“Oh, my!” added Fluff.

In spite of all of this wonderful advice, Wodin was completely oblivious. She was packing some of the silliest things: rope, tape recorder, plastic socks, and a book on Wombats of the South Australian Outback! Silly Wodin! She should have packed her book on Northern Scottish Wombats, commonly known as the Roaming Haggis, Latin name Romus haggisus. Apparently, she wasn’t thinking. Evidence of this was that she only packed twenty rolls of film. And that she nearly forgot an umbrella. Helllooo! McFly! This is London we are talking about. No umbrella? Wodin was clearly addled in the head. However, she was packed two weeks before she even had to arrive at the airport, and she realized she had packed all of her clothing. All of it. Oh dear. So, she had to unpack so she would have clothes to wear for two weeks until she had to leave (But it also gave her a chance to remedy her earlier packing errors).

Other than these small mistakes (“Anyone could make these mistakes,” Fluff consoled her), Wodin was well prepared and thoroughly excited to be on her way to the Australian Outback! Whoops, I mean, the Wilds of Africa. Aside: What do you mean she isn’t going to Africa? Well, Smarty-pants, why don’t YOU write the story? Ahem. Where were we? Ah, yes: right here.

July 4, 2002 (Thursday)

Finally, after weeks of contemplation, daydreaming, longing, and wistful sighing, Wodin was at last off to the great Great Britain!

Her flight was unimaginably boring, yet she could not sleep seeing as the flight attendants thought she needed more honey roasted peanuts, and kept throwing little packets of them at Wodin. Or maybe the flight attendant threw them because she was vindictive and bitter. Either way, Wodin had an overabundance of little peanut packets. Twenty minutes before landing, Wodin gathered the packets in her arms, walked down the aisle to the on flight toilet (or loo, as they say in England!) and flushed them all! Or, at least, she attempted to. Seeing as this toilet was not connected to any sort of network, it simply clogged, and the peanuts could not be flushed. The toilet overflowed, and Wodin ran away before anyone could accuse her of making the mess. Whew! At least she didn’t get caught.

July 5, 2002 (Friday)

Wodin arrived fairly alert, but she walked out of the airport to see rain. “Why did I leave home?” she asked. “I could have seen rain at home!” (Following this, there was a rather nasty encounter with customs, which we will not describe here, seeing as it was very humiliating for all involved. Just know that Wodin was almost banned from England. Banned from England! The birthplace of the Bee Gees!)

She shrugged and was led by a guide named Warren (true story!) to her abode. As she was unpacking, whom did she happen to find stuffed in her luggage but Fluff! She had hitched a ride! Wodin’s plastic socks were stuffed in her mouth (apparently a result of transatlantic jostling) and as soon as Wodin liberated her, Fluff spat them out. She had been turning quite blue, but her fur slowly returned to its normal, Fluffy, white state.

“Do you know how long I was in there?” she growled.

Wodin began to count on her fingers, “One, two, seven….Sixteen hours?”

Fluff merely grrrowled and rrrroufled in response. Wodin understood her guess to be accurate.

The day was long. They had traveled for many, many hours, and they were worn out. They then tramped around the area they were staying, although the fatigue almost made them fall over while they were on Finchley Road (“Finchley!” harrumphed Fluff. “I hate birds!”). Finally, it was the going-to-bed time. However, Wodin needed to be showered, dressed, and fed by 10 am the following morning to take her already paid for tour of (drumroll!) London! Wodin looked at her clock, carefully set it for 8 am the next day, and turned off her lights and settled down for a long winter’s nap… er, I mean, she went to bed.

As she slept, she slept peacefully, losing track of all time, forgetting her body clock was in a period of adjustment. Suddenly, she awakened at the slam of a door. Wodin sat up in bed. It was light outside. What time was it? She grabbed her clock. 9:30! Her alarm had not gone off! She would be late to the bus! She shook Fluff awake and whispered, “We have no time! We must be off!” Fluff mumbled, “Peanut butter, peanut butter!” and rolled back into bed and snuggled down. Wodin didn’t notice; she was too busy trying to put her jeans on over her pajama bottoms. She also put toothpaste on her hairbrush and ran it through her hair, and then she sprayed her teeth with hairspray and she put her socks on her hands and tried tying her shoes. Poor Wodin! She was in such a dither! She dashed out of her room in a panic and crashed into a girl coming from the communal bathroom. The girl looked at Wodin and her unusual coiffure very strangely. Wodin panted and looked at her watch. “Don’t we need to be at the bus?” she panted. The girl looked at her in a manner stranger still. Wodin rolled her eyes and continued, “You know, for the city tour of (drumroll!) London?” The girl stopped looking at her strangely and merely burst out laughing.

“Oh, Hon!” she exclaimed in a Kentucky accent, “That’s not until tomorrow morning!”

It was Wodin’s turn to look at someone strangely (she gets this opportunity so infrequently that she made it good). “Tomorrow?”

Kentucky Girl nodded and said, “It’s still Friday!”

Wodin looked at her watch again. Sure enough, there was a little tiny “pm” on it, and the light in her window was there because the sun had not set yet. Wodin felt very sheepish. She thanked Kentucky Girl, and returned to her room to the sleeping Fluff. Wodin removed the socks from her hands, rinsed the toothpaste from her hair in her sink, and returned to bed. Fluff rolled over in her sleep and muttered, “That’s what you get for dancing upon the Tower of London in knickers.”

“You said it,” Wodin acquiesced.

Thank you folks, and that is all for this week’s edition of “Wodin in London!” Stay tuned for next week’s unnecessary venture to Stonehenge and the wackiness that occurs when Fluff accidentally knocks down 4,000 year old Sarsen stones! Until next time, remember to floss your teeth, or you could end up looking like an Englishman!

Brought to you by English Muffins, the English horn, scones, and the letter ‘E’.


Be careful with those Sarsen Stones, Fluff! 

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A Monstrously Scary Abscessed Test

Once upon a time, there was a girl. A very Wise girl. In fact, she was so wise, her name was Chuck. Ha! I kid. Her name was Wodin the Wise. Anyhow, she was very Wise, and she studied very hard in school. She was a student at the notorious—did I say notorious? I meant Prestigious—WOU, also known as Whacked Out University. Seriously. Anyhow, so she studied. In addition, she studied. Did I mention that she studied? And, despite all evidence to the contrary, she actually usually sometimes enjoyed herself. And so she studied.

She was still in the throes of indecision: what should her major be? She thought that majoring in the Australian Language and working on the campaign for the Emancipation for the Elusive Wombat would be fun, but Lovely Lola had already done that. Besides, that Major was not offered at WOU, even though the words “Whacked Out” appeared in the name of the school, and despite the propensity of the school to be decidedly strange, but you pay no nevermind to that, you young’uns! Anyway, so she decided to be a teacher of Pencil Sharpening. No kidding. There really is a demand for that sort of thing. I mean, what with the new requirements that students get job training in schools and all, this sort of training for students planning to be Administrative Assistants is essential. Of course, Wodin will take more classes than simply Pencil Sharpening. She will also learn about Mechanical Pencils, Refillable Pens, and the benefits of permanent and washable ink. Wodin was ever so excited to be taking these classes so she could become a teacher to better Humanity, even if Humanity didn’t want to be bettered. Never mind that. Humanity could just rear its ugly head and kiss her—Oh wait. This is a Family Story. Forgive me. I blush. I also Digress; where was I? Ah, right here.

So, Wodin desired to become a teacher. Before the Big-Wigs in charge of Education would allow this to transpire, however, Wodin was required to take a monstrous test, six hours long, called the MSAT, which stands for (Wodin believes) Monstrously Scary Abscessed Test. Abscessed because her brain felt abscessed merely thinking about the test, much less when it came right down to taking the test. But take it she did.

Wodin was very nervous on Test Day. She was afraid that they would test her on knowledge she did not posses. You know, testing her on stuff other than pens and pencils. Well, never fear, because of course they would test her on things she had never heard of! That is the point of a test. However, she felt she could answer the first question. It read something like this:

1. “On the first day of class, the teacher handed the syllabus to all of the students as they walked through the door.”
Which of the following changes would be most dramatic in the above sentence?
a. Change “all of” to “each and every”
b. “students” to “students”
c. “door” to “door”
d. I don’t know. This is a stupid question anyway.

Wodin spent considerable time pondering the question. She simply did not know which answer was more accurate. In fact, considering the situation, it would be appropriate to say that she panicked outright. She began to breathe rather quickly and shallowly. In fact, some witnesses claim there was hyperventilation involved, but Wodin denies the allegations. Anyhow, she calmed down, and looked at the options: “Well, the last one is hardly a change in the sentence,” she mused. “And the other two don’t seem to be changes either.” She thought a bit more. “But is ‘a’ really a dramatic change? Would I choose that in order to make my sentence more dramatic?” At that point, she realized that all of the students around her were glaring quite steadily at her, and the Test Administrator Man frowned at her and said in his best Test Administratorly Man Voice, “Keep it down. There is no thinking, silent or out-loud, permitted during this, the multiple choice section of the test.” Wodin hunched her shoulders, blushed, and got back to work. She ceased thinking, and from there on out she simply filled in the little bubbles. And that was that. Indeed, when she finished, she discovered that she was 45 minutes ahead of time. She was rather giddy at the prospect, until she remembered that there was a second portion of the test made up of Essay questions. She wanted to cry, but she did not. So she turned in her multiple choice answer sheet with all of the wonderful bubbles filled in (not all of the bubbles, but one for each question; you get the idea) and left the room whistling while the Test Administrator Man glowered at her. She did not notice the glower. Instead, she went and sharpened her pencils, because that was what she knew how to do. Plus, she needed her pencils sharp for the Essay Portion of The Test. Dun-dun-dun.

So the essay portion of the MSAT rolled around. Alas, Wodin was once again shaking in her boots. (No, she wasn’t really wearing boots, but it is a nice phrase.) Anyhow, she sat back down in her desk and awaited the exam. Of course, because she was required to be there by 10:45, the test did not begin until 11:30. Naturally. When she opened her book and read the first question, she panicked again. Some of the other students might be persuaded to say that she ran around the room screaming, “It’s got me! It’s got me!” but that would just be their word against hers. (And they won’t be talking any time soon. Trust me.) But, she eventually did calm down and begin to write answers to the test. Until she came to a hideously ugly (that’s not redundant) math question. She began to stutter.

“Th-that’s n-n-not poss-ssible! You c-can’t writ-te an essay ab-b-bout MATH!”
The Administrator Man scowled at her again. She stopped talking and began crying silently instead. When lo and behold! Merv the Fairy God Cabby appeared! Wodin looked around, but it didn’t appear that anyone, not even Surly Test Administrator Man, noticed Merv.

Merv took the cigar from his mouth and said, “Eh, whaddaya want? I ain’t gat all day, ya know.”

Wodin gulped, and whispered, “I have a math essay question I need to do. Can you help me?”

Merv looked at the problem and said, “The answer is 42. Trust me. Just write it down.”

Wodin looked confused. “But, but, I have to explain my answer!”

Merv growled, “Jus’ say yeh gat it from Me, Miss Whiny-Pants!” And then he disappeared in a foul cloud of Cigar smoke.

Lola coughed, and shrugged. And she wrote down 42. It was as good an answer as she would have come up with, she was sure. And as for the explanation? Well, she simply wrote: “Merv said so.” And that was that. But never fear (or perhaps you should), that is not all the test entailed! Indeed, there was more to that test than met the eyes (or eye, if you are a large giant, hairy Cyclops, which Wodin is not, but the writer wishes to steer clear of alienating any of her audience who might not be visually blessed enough to have both of his or her eyes). Indeed, she needed to write a hideous essay on interpretive dance. I kid not. She looked at a rather silly picture in the test booklet, wishing it would dance around like in the Harry Potter books, but alas, the figures remained motionless. She must write an essay about what she believed their movements (as captured by still-frame photographic technology) were depicting. In a rather astute moment, Wodin began to write:

“The picture of the dancers depicts them in a dancing arrangement whilst they are dancing. That they are dancing is obvious: they are twirling and leaping about (or would be, if the picture were more Harry Potter-like). It is obvious that they are dancing and not, for example, playing golf. If they were playing golf, they would have golf clubs in their hands. Seeing as they do not have golf clubs, it is logical to assume that the dancers, so called because of their dance-like arrangement, are indeed dancing. However, it looks as though the third dancer from the left wishes he were playing golf instead of dancing. Thank you.”

Well, that was nearly the last of her essays, and she breezed through the rest of them with no problem (except for the one about the homeless wombats of southern Australia, but that question was only a problem because it caused her to reminisce about Lovely Lola for a time). When it was all over, she exited the room, snapping her carefully sharpened pencils, saying, “O, that I were a test administrator, I would verily strike the writers of such tests upon the crowns of their heads. Yea, I wouldst cry mightily unto them saying, why hast thou tortured me thus? May you have carbuncles upon your toes.” Wodin wept bitterly, and then retired to her drawing room, and invited Colonel Mustard to join her for a glass of sherry and… Whoops! heh, heh! That is the other story I am working on. Actually, Wodin returned to her room, where Fredrick and Fluff were waiting for her so they could give her a back rub. And they did, and she enjoyed it, falling into a deep stupor, induced by the test and massage. Friedrick and Fluff, those tenacious little teddy bears, crept out of her room, whispering “May we never encounter such a test, Titus.” And, “O that such a calamity may never befall us, Lavinia.” And that was that.

Today’s installment of “The Adventures of Friedrick and Fluff” is sponsored in part by Cherry Jell-O, the national snack of Teddy Bears everywhere!

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Going Postal

So... Wodin the Wise is going to London! Yes, that's right, folks, London, England (As opposed to London, Ohio). She will be gone this summer, and she is ever so excited. However, she thought that going would be merely a matter of boarding a plane and arriving 15 hours later in Heathrow airport.

Hahahahaha! How naive... No, she needs money (well, she'll hit Friedrick and Fluff up for the dough) and a Passport. A passport! Aren't the English and Americans on good terms? Why do we need passports? Alas, Wodin decided that she would endeavor to get a passport. So she went and picked up an application at the local Post office. The application said she needed two photographs, a birth certificate, and money. Fine. She went and had two hideously grotesque photos taken, and for these photos she paid $10. She grudgingly paid the pierced photo man. Then she had to order certified copies of her birth certificate. And how do you do this? you might ask. Well, you pay them money! "Enough with the money, already!" said Wodin. She was broke and she hadn't even paid for the trip yet. She sighed, and paid the money. And then she waited. And waited. And waited. And finally her birth certificate arrived in the Mail. Hooray! She could go back to the post office and give her materials to the Post Office Man, right? It all seemed so simple once...

So on Friday she went to the Monmouth Post Office, and she asked Post Office Man if she could do her Passport stuff there. He said, "No. You'll have to go to Salem. Or Corvallis. Or Albany." Wodin the Wise smiled politely and backed away, all the while thinking to herself, "Albany? Albany?" She shook her head, and sighed. It was Friday, and she'd never get to Salem to turn her materials in before the Post Office closed. So she turned to her roommate, who graciously agreed to drive her to Salem, the very next day.

*Passage of Time....*

So, she and her roommate go to Salem, and find the very well-hidden Post Office. The pull up, get out, walk up to the door, and... "It's closed?" Shrieked Wodin. "It's closed?" The Roommate tried to placate her, but there was no placating to be done. Wodin was beside herself. "At home, in piddly Aloha, the Post Office is open on Saturday! Why isn't the post office in the STATE CAPITOL open on a @#$%*! Saturday?" (Note: No swearing was actually done. The symbols are inserted for stylistic and creative reasons. Thank you.) Wodin wanted to toilet paper the capitol building and the Post office, but her roommate was able to distract her with a quarter (Wodin is easily distracted by shiny things). So Wodin called her mother, Mommy Wise, who soothed her and said, "Spring Break is coming. You can ask for peanut butter covered newspapers and do your passport stuff then. In the meantime, breathe deep, and play with quarters." Mommy Wise knew her daughter's weakness. And so it was done. Wodin took deep breaths and played with quarters, ending up in a stupor until class started on Monday Morning. And that was that.

Brought to you today by the United States Postal Service, and the Letter 'W'.

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The MOlympics: 2002 Salt Lake

Hello, folks! And here it is, once again, time for the biennial Olympic (or should I say Molympic?) edition of The Adventures of Friedrick and Fluff! Please, wear your seatbelts, keep your head and hands inside the bobsled, and we’re off!

Once again, the Olympics had returned, this time to Utah, that state where the Big Hair roams, and there is a Big Yutz University (attended by someone Wodin knows as Anna the Astute). Well, Friedrick and Fluff wanted to compete very badly. They loved their competition appearance in the Sydney Olympics, so they believed that an appearance in Salt Lake would be just as fun, right? Unfortunately, Friedrick’s best event was Toilet Flushing, which would not be offered at the Winter Olympics, seeing as the water would freeze in the cataclysmically freezing temperatures in Utah. Friedrick shrugged, and began to peruse a catalogue of offered Olympic events.

“Hmmm… Skeleton…No… Snowboarding? No… Moguls, Ouch!” Friedrick rubbed his tail where he had fallen on a mogul just the other night. Moguls skiing was definitely and resolutely out. And then he came to it: Ice dancing! “Fluff! We shall be the Two Tenacious Dancing Bears!” And Fluff agreed, as long as she could be involved in the Super G (Picabo’s old reigning favorite) and Friedrick agreed as long as he could try out for the luge. And so it was decided. They were going to make their way to Utah to compete (and visit Lovely Lola, who was in Utah in training for missionarying). Friedrick and Fluff began to work on their dance moves (even though Fluff was disappointed that she could not tap-dance on anyone’s head in skates) and they improved drastically in a very short time. Fluff qualified for the Super G easily, and Friedrick was able to cut one-one-hundredth of a second off his luge time by smearing his body with Cheez Whiz. This worked well, but the Cheez Whiz froze to his fur, and was very difficult to get off. “Ah, but all for the sport!” Friedrick stated firmly. And so his technique was adopted by several of the Austrian Lugers, but none of them used it quite as well as Friedrick did.

But February came around, and it was time to compete in the Olympics. The stage was set, and boy, was it huge! Because Friedrick and Fluff are siblings, Rob Costless and his sidekick, perpetually perky Karly Colic, decided to do a small, tear-jerking feature on the bears. It was done in black and white, with the Rob Costless voice-over: “It isn’t often that we meet two such tenacious teddy bears, but it is even less often that we meet tenacious teddy bears with tragic tragedies in their tragic past.” The screen flashed to a shot of Fluff staring morosely out of a generic window at a skating rink as she re-told the story of her trip to Siberia and the days with that Toilet Tyrant (aka, Jeanette): “That was the lowest point, I believe. We loved Jeanette, and her mania for clean toilets interrupted our dance training. But it was through her and our trip to Siberia that we were first introduced to the novelty of ice. Our furry coats were perfect for the icy setting.” The screen then flashed to a shot of the bears with Jeanette. “We are now on very good terms with Jeanette,” says Friedrick effusively, as the shot dissolves into one of the bears practicing their dance routine on the ice. “She helped us to realize that we could be strong.” Then, the voice of Rob Costless comes once again, as the shot becomes a series of individual frames showing the bears training for their different events. “These bears are not only into ice dancing, but Friedrick, the younger brother, is competing in the Luge event, and Fluff, the older sister, is competing in the Super G as well.” Then the screen turned to pictures of their Summer Games debut. “But the World will remember these bears as the first siblings to compete in both the Summer and Winter Olympics consecutively. The first bears, really. Can they repeat their success of the previous games? Only time will tell.” Then the coverage immediately went to a commercial. Friedrick and Fluff were greatly excited to have the documentary shown to as many people were watching the Olympic coverage. They thought it would be lovely to garner more fame than ever before. That way, their next Presidential bid might have more success. But it was time to get down to business.

Friedrick and Fluff spent as much time on the ice as the Russians would give them (the Russians were still upset at the fact that Friedrick had beaten a Russian at the Toilet Flushing competition in Sydney), but no matter, Friedrick and Fluff were working hard anyway. Finally, the day came when the bears were to compete.

Fluff was a nervous wreck, in her blue and green sequined skating outfit, and Friedrick in his all black, streamlined outfit. They were all prepared to skate, when, out of nowhere, someone ran up, and whacked her in the knee, and she went down, in a ball of tears and screaming, “It hurts, oh, it hurts!” And then Nancy… Oops, sorry. Wrong Olympics. Where was I? Right. The ice. So, Friedrick and Fluff hit the ice, and struck their pose. The music began, and they effortlessly glided across the ice. They made a beautiful move called a “Klechermannschaft,” where Friedrick skated on one foot while Fluff leaned upon him and took both of her feet off of the ice. It was spectacular. The crowd went wild. Until Fluff’s shoelace broke, and she began to cry, and she went to the judges and demanded a “do-over” (yes, that is the technical term) and… Oh, wait. There I go again. Where was I? Ah, yes, the Klechermannschaft. So, they performed this ridiculously difficult move, and they were given good scores. They were very pleased. The announcer even said, “That will be a tough program to beat, Rob!” to which Rob Costless replied, “Indeed. But the Russians have yet to skate. Now to a commercial.” So there was a commercial where Friedrick and Fluff endorsed Jell-O, usurping Bill Cosby’s role (he was bitter, but that is another story, and has nothing to do with the story at hand. The point is there was a commercial. Now, let’s get back to the Olympic coverage. Thank you).

So, the Russians skated next in the rotation. Friedrick and Fluff bit their nails (claws?) nervously until the scores came up, and… The Russians won. Friedrick and Fluff automatically launched an investigation about the erroneous judging, and they were very angry. They went to the IOC (I’m an Obstinate Crackhead) Committee to get it all straightened out, and the President of the Committee said, “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid.” So Friedrick and Fluff went back to the skating venue, only to find that they had been beat by several other pairs of skaters, namely the French and Canadian pairs (the Canadians got in because everyone felt so bad for them). Friedrick and Fluff were still upset, so they went back to the IOC Committee president, to complain once again. But instead of getting sympathy, the president said, “No, I will not talk to you bears any more today.” So the bears danced on his head. It made them feel much better. But it still did not solve anything. Instead, they decided to go to their next competitions.

Fluff’s was first, and Friedrick went to watch her. Fluff stood at the gate at the top of the hill, and then rocketed downward, flying by gate after gate! She was on a roll! She was on fire! She had everything to live for! Until she slipped going around one of the last gates. And then she tumbled over the finish line. It was still a legitimate finish, but, alas, because of her fall, she had added extra time to her run, and she was out of medal contention. It appeared that the Rob Costless curse would claim those two tenacious teddy bears (you know, the curse that whomever Rob Costless features prominently in a short documentary does not do well at all, but instead goes on to lose the gold, their dog, and their left eye. Okay so perhaps that is a bit of a generalization, but you get the point). The amazing Olympic team of F & F was about to go down. There was but one hope left: Friedrick in the Luge.

The time for competition came, and Friedrick carefully smeared his body with Cheez Whiz. He went to the start house, and awaited his turn. He got on his sled… “One… Two…. Three!” shouted the startman. Friedrick launched himself out of the start house and raced through the first curve. By the second curve, he was a half second ahead and going nearly seventy miles per hour! It was amazing. Fluff could hardly watch. Rob Costless was (for once) at a loss for words. Friedrick went zipping through the curves and he made it across the finish line in the lead! All was well! Everyone cheered for Friedrick! Except for the angry German competitor who Friedrick had beat out for the gold. He went to the President of the IOC committee and complained that the use of Cheez Whiz was illegal. The President looked into matters and found that it was indeed an illegal substance. Friedrick broke down and cried, right there on national television. He rubbed the tears away, and then went to lick his hand (because it still had Cheez Whiz on it; Yum!) The Rob Costless Curse had struck again (it had also struck that poor skier, and the snowboarder). Friedrick and Fluff both cried, until Fluff whispered to Friedrick, “At least the ice wasn’t as slippery as a wet fish.” And Friedrick replied, “It was more slippery than my Cheez Whiz, though,” and they both cried. (Truth be told, Rob Costless cried, too, but that is because he is easily influenced by the power of suggestion.)

So instead, of waiting around for the awards (none of which were going to our competitive coterie), the bears decided to go and visit Lovely Lola (now known as Hermana Lovely).

Hermana Lovely was doing, well, lovely. She was ever so excited to see the two bears. But, as she was racing to greet them, she slipped on the ice and fell. She landed directly upon her—ahem—nether region. She was rather sore, and rather embarrassed, but that did not prevent her from greeting the bears just the same. They talked for a bit of time (not long, because Hermana Lovely had other things to attend to) before the bears had to leave Hermana Lovely to do, well, lovely things! So the two teddy bears returned to their hotel rooms. There, they packed for home, since they had not won anything. They were about to flush themselves home, when up though the toilet popped Karly Colic! She began to gush about their style on the ice, and how much she loved their Toilet Travel Method book, and how she had voted for them in the election. She ended her awe-inspired diatribe by asking, “…so, can I have your autograph?” She looked as giddy as a schoolgirl with a large ice cream cone with two scoops of double fudge mint ice cream. Friedrick and Fluff, however, were unimpressed, and (as Karly stood there, awe-stricken) they knew what they had to do. They pulled out their Light Sabers and began to duel… Oops; here’s what they really did: They tap-danced on Karly Colic’s forehead until she passed out, and then they flushed her back to the broadcast headquarters. (They weren’t Toilet Flushing Gold medallists for nothing, you know.)

That night, on the news, Friedrick and Fluff heard the following newscast:

“Late this afternoon, our reporter Karly Colic was found in the station’s bathroom soaking wet and with a concussion. She was admitted to the hospital for observation, but her physicians say she will be back on the job by tomorrow morning. No word yet on how the incident occurred. All Karly has said about the incident is that she knew that Wayne Newton was right all along. Rob, back to you.” The bears turned off the television at that point and turned to one another. “Discretion at the next run-in with a celebrity should be exercised,” said Fluff solemnly. Friedrick nodded, then grinned evilly. “Let us send Karly and Wayne some flowers…” He said. And it was done. And that was that.

Stay tuned for next time, when Friedrick and Fluff find more unusual things to do and go to more unusual places!

This is brought to you by green Jell-O, The Figure Skating Association, and the Committee for the Bettering of Canadians.

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Dastardly Detective Dan

Lovely Lola was going to visit her wonderful friend, Wodin the Wise. She was oh-so-excited to see her wise friend. She was driving quickly, but safely—honest. As she was driving, she was pulled over by a police officer. “Do you know what you did?” he asked. Lola’s lovely eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. The officer with the stern gaze told her she had driven recklessly, and she must face a judge. Lola burst into tears. And when she burst into tears, what do you think happened? Absolutely nothing. Merv the Fairy-God-Cabby should have appeared, but something must have gone wrong, because he did not show. This lack of presence made Lola cry even harder. The police officer had a mean ol’ sidekick, named Detective Dan, and he was mean. He said, “What do you mean? How can you not know what you did? IT was foul! And mean! And downright despicable!” And Lola stopped crying, looked Detective Dan in the eye, and began to bawl louder and messier than ever. She leaned over and blew her nose noisily on Detective Dan’s clean tie. This infuriated Detective Dan, so he stomped back to the patrol vehicle and, with the help of the police officer, wrote Lola a nasty ticket, requiring her to appear in court the very next week. Lola drove off slowly with tears still in her eyes. What she did not notice, however, was that Detective Dan had an evil glint in his eyes. “I’ll get those little demon bears this time!” he muttered. Detective Dan was really Wayne Newton in disguise!

*****

As soon as Lola arrived back at her home, she telephoned those two tenacious teddy bears that we all know and love: Friedrick and Fluff. Fluff answered the phone. “F & F Enterprises. Fluff speaking. How may I help you?”

Lola was confused. “F&F Enterprises? What’s that?”

Fluff cleared her throat and began to speak, “F & F Enterprises includes all of our business and professional endeavors. We created the Enterprise to try and prevent the whole Bore/Shrub fiasco from ever occurring again. Ever.” Fluff paused. “Why have YOU called our Enterprise?”

Lola began to wail. She began to sob. It was uncontrollable. Fluff began to get frustrated. She hates it when Lola gets hysterical. She barked into the phone, “Out with it! What is going on?”

Lola hiccupped and bawled, “Igannogonnocorrrrttt!”

Fluff, at her end of the phone, lifted one eyebrow (if that is possible for a teddy bear) and said, “No kidding. That is an unusual malady. Perhaps if you went to see a doctor, he could prescribe something to cure that rash.”

Lola stomped her foot and drew in her breath long enough to get out, “I got to go to court!” There was more uncontrolled bawling, and she continued with, “I got a ticket from a man named Detective Dan!” Then she completely broke down, again.

Fluff frowned. “We’ll be right there,” she said mystically, and hung up the phone. Fluff turned to Friedrick, who was on the other phone, talking about the latest soccer match. Fluff turned to him and said, “We have a code blue emergency. Grab your egg beater and a rain coat. Detective Dan is at it again.” Friedrick’s eyes widened, and he said to the telephone, “I must leave you, your Highness. Duty calls. Yes, I know that this is an invitation that I cannot refuse. You have my word. My sister and I will attend your party.” He turned to Fluff after hanging up the phone. “THAT was the Queen of Archenisia. She wants us at her Coronation party!”

“Dandy,” said Fluff. “But first we have to go deal with something…”

*****

Back at the Police Headquarters, other officers had begun to wonder about Detective Dan. He didn’t seem so concerned about tracking down criminals as he did about this one Lola person. In fact, he hadn’t even worked on his other cases. He had only opened Lola’s file. The other officers also began to question his police background. It seemed a little fishy, that’s all. He frequently wore his police badge upside-down, or forgot to carry his weapon. It was all very strange…

*****

Lola was sobbing on her pillow when she heard a knock at the door. At her door stood Friedrick and Fluff, both wearing pinstriped power suits and sunglasses. When the door opened, they marched in and set their briefcases down on the coffee table, simultaneously opened them, and withdrew some papers. Fluff and Friedrick sat down on the couch and motioned for Lola to do the same. Lola was astonished, but she sat down. Fluff began to speak. “I have looked into this matter quite thoroughly. In fact, I have been tracking the movements of this so-called “Detective Dan” all over the United States. He, in fact, is not a detective at all. He is Wayne Newton, searching for retribution. He thinks that by harming you, he can get us. He is almost right. By harming you, WE will get HIM." Fluff smiled sinisterly, and began to map out their plan to expose the fraudulent Detective Dan.

*****

The morning of Lola’s court date found our hero and heroines in the courtroom. Lola looked very professional, but she was also very unsure about many things. She was unsure about the accusations, she was unsure about Fluff’s plan, and she was unsure about Fluff’s authority to represent Lola in court. Did the F & F Enterprise really include a law firm as well as Speech Writers Ltd.? Well, Lola decided that the fewer questions asked, the better for all involved. So she sat there, looking demure. Then, the prosecutor followed by the evil Detective Dan entered the room. Detective looked maliciously at Lola, and he shuddered when he saw those two tenacious teddy bears. He also started a tic at the corner of his left eye. How curious, Lola thought.

The bailiff entered, and announced the entrance of the Honorable Judge Paddywhack. The stern judge looked at all the parties involved, and began the proceedings. The prosecutor said that Lola was charged with evading a police officer and scribbling graffiti on the men’s restroom at the county jail. Lola was confused, and so was the judge. They both looked at the prosecutor, who said, “Well, that’s what I’ve got written!” Judge Paddywhack sighed and slammed his gavel down. “This young lady could not have been in the Men’s restroom at the county jail! She was never arrested! Perhaps you had better check your files again, pudding head!”

The prosecutor was flustered, and he shuffled through his papers, and said, “Nope. This is the one with Ms. Lovely’s name on it.” Detective Dan, AKA Wayne, began to sweat, and his eye twitched a little faster. The judge was disgusted. “What a bunch of loonies,” he muttered. He shook his head. “You have presented me with false charges and no evidence. I am going to have to drop these charges.”

Suddenly, Fluff stood up and said, “Your Honor, If I may say a few words?” Judge Paddywhack nodded. Fluff began. “Ladies and Gentlemen of the courtroom, I have some startling evidence that I would like to present. It shows that Detective Dan,” she whirled around to point a fluffy paw in his direction, “is an imposter! He is not a detective, or even really a police officer! He is Wayne Newton!” With this proclamation, she ran over to Detective Dan and pulled off his thick bushy mustache and aviator sunglasses to reveal the true face of Wayne Newton! At this, Wayne began to scream, “She touched me! Get her away! The little bear touched me! I could be contaminated! You could be next! Get it off me!” The Judge looked warily at Wayne, and said, “Bailiff, take Wayne here and drop him in the loony bin. Charges against Ms. Lola Lovely have been dropped, and the court apologizes for the inconvenience this has caused.”

Lola, Friedrick, and Fluff began to cheer as Wayne was carted out of the courtroom in a straightjacket. It was a good day. “How on earth did I get charged with graffiti and evading arrest?” Lola asked Fluff. Fluff grinned devilishly. “I switched your real papers with ones I made up. Anyway, he didn’t have any evidence for the other one anyway.” Lola leaned down and spoke to Fluff, “Detectives who wear green Jell-O for a hat should be made to eat lip gloss.” Fluff nodded and said, “Instead of being given pudding in a silver dish.” Friedrick didn’t add any comments. He was too busy trying to open his pudding cup.

And that was that.

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Another Wedding

Well, once again it is the time for Lovely Lola to sojourn into the worlds of friendships and strangeness. Of all the strangest things, Masked Mal was getting married to her own true love. And Lola was her own true Maid of Honor! Stan, Wodin, and Claudette were all bridesmaids. Claudette, having gone through the process of marriage once before, was glad that it was Mal, not her, that was getting married. “Besides,” she shrugged, “Confused Chris might object.”

As the date of the wedding approached closer and closer, Mal became more and more frantic. She found that the more she tried to think about things, the more she forgot. She even forgot to go to her own Wedding shower! (She made it, but only because Lola showed up at her home and said, “I am here to take you to your oh-so-lovely party!” Mal did not disclose to her the fact that she had even forgotten that she was going. But she went so as not to hurt Lola’s feelings.) Anyhow, she was close to panic, because her wedding was to be the most wonderful event of the century, yet she had no theme for her wedding! “Claudette had a Friedrick and Fluff themed wedding! That was so clearly superb, that I cannot think of anything else to top that!” And she began to wail. She simply sank to the floor in utter desperation. And the wedding was only three days away! As she lay there crying, Suddenly, who should appear—you guessed it!—Fluff. Fluff pulled Mal’s head into her lap, and said, “There, there, tell Auntie Fluff, What’s the matter?” Mal suddenly looked up at Fluff, and said, “Auntie Fluff? Where did THAT come from?” Fluff bared her teeth oh-so sweetly, and said, “Listen, sweetie, If you want help, I’m here, okay?”

So Mal told Fluff all of her problems about being unable to find a suitable theme for her wedding, and then into how the wedding was a mere three days away, and how her dress was still being altered, and how the shoes were the wrong color white, and how the bridesmaid’s dresses were two different colors (whoops, that was no mistake, that was on purpose!) and how the cake was not confirmed yet, because there was an exotic ingredient missing, and…. The list continued on and on. There was no end to the list. It went on into infinity. There were so many problems, that Fluff screamed. At her scream, who should appear but our friendly neighborhood New York Fairy God-Cabby Merv! Of course, he was three feet off the ground, floating gently in midair, a cigar clenched tightly in the corner of his mouth, with three days’ growth of stubble on his chin, and wearing his world-renowned pink fluffy tutu. “Whaddaya want?” Merv growled, tapping is foot on… Well, nothing. He was in the air. But regardless, he was still tapping his foot. Mal looked up at him and began to speak, and Merv cut her off with a, “Not You, HER!” as he nodded to Fluff. Fluff stuck her tongue out at Mal, and began to rant and rave. “She keeps talking about all of these problems to do with her wedding, but there is no way I can possibly know what she wants me to do about it, much less fix the problems!” Merv nodded his head knowingly. “Tell me about it,” he grumbled. “I get that all the time. So whaddaya want ME to do about it?” Fluff thought for a moment, and suddenly an evil smile came to her face. She whispered her evil thought into Merv’s ear, and an evil smile spread across his face. Until Fluff said, “But we can’t do that after all; there simply isn’t enough pudding in the world for that.” And Merv’s face fell. He scuffed his toe on the… Well, he would have scuffed it on the ground, had he been close enough, but instead, he just looked silly. (Well, what was to be expected from a cab driver that wears a tutu? Although, I am told that this is not that unusual in New York. However, moving on…) Then Merv had a brilliant idea. He whispered it to Fluff, who whispered it to Mal, whose wail of sobs ceased. A slow smile crept across her face, and she said, “Why, yes, that is a lovely idea!” And all was well…

The day of the wedding arrived, and the whole guest list, including Groom and Maid of Honor, had no idea what the theme would be for the wedding. Everyone began to speculate about Mal’s wedding. All Mal’s sweetie knew was that he was to wear a kilt, with a dagger in his socks. Mal gave special instruction to each member of the wedding party, along with a secret garment bag. In the secret garment bag there was a special outfit for each of the party members, and each was to keep their costume a secret from all the rest. First, Friedrick and Fluff danced down the aisle in Toreador and Flamenco costumes, respectively as ring bearer and flower girl. Then, Lola weaved herself down the aisle in an outfit that rivaled that of Carmen Miranda, the lady who wore the fruit on her head. Lola was impressive, except for the fact that she had taken a bite from one of the wax fruit on her head (it had simply been too inviting). Then Wodin flounced through the church in an outfit that looked remarkably like the Swiss Miss. She even had braids, and a sappy smile (she just loved weddings). Stan was next, and she grumpily clomped down the aisle in a Japanese Kimono. She was unhappy because she had had to wear the shoes that went with the outfit, and she felt that it would have been much better if she had been allowed to wear her sneakers, but Mal wouldn’t have it. Then Claudette walked down the aisle wearing a Hawaiian grass skirt and Hawaiian print shirt. Stan was jealous, because Claudette was allowed to wear no shoes at all. Finally it was the big moment. Mal had known what all of the attendants were wearing, but none of them knew what she was wearing. As she appeared, a gasp went through the audience: she was wearing a beautiful Indian Sari. Mal smiled serenely, and walked down the aisle, looking sweetly at her husband to be, who was still frowning at having to wear a skirt. The minister (dressed as an African tribesman) began the ceremonies, and Mal was soon wed. At the reception, Lola was still confused. “Dear Mal,” she whispered, “was your theme ‘The Countries of the World?’” Mal looked at her in surprise and said, “No! The theme was to use all of the outfits that Merv has had to use over the years in all of the places he’s had work as a Fairy God Cabby. I suppose the theme was ‘Outfits by Merv.’” Lola’s eyes opened widely and her mouth dropped in shock. “You… you… you mean to s-s-say that this dress was once worn by MERV!?!” Mal smiled and nodded. Lola ran away screaming, something about having to change and shower, but Mal just shrugged and said to her hubby, “I guess we should have all danced in a vat of pudding.” To which he wisely replied, “Yes, and then set the flowers on fire.”

And that was that.

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Lovely Lola Graduates

Well, was Lola ever so surprised. She was finally graduating from Big Yutz University, with a degree in Wombat Studies and a minor in the Australian dialect. She was absolutely delighted. Her time at the Olympics with Friedrick and Fluff had helped to hone her skills as both a wild wombat handler and as a translator of Australian for confused Americans with her solid grasp of the Australian language. But she was finally graduating, and that was all that mattered. She invited all of her best friends and family. Lovely Mom and Dad were just oh-so-proud of their darling daughter, and were pleased as punch that she was graduating. Perhaps she would go into a zoo, or perhaps become the speechwriter for the Confederation of Wombats (Known as C.O.W.). C.O.W. was involved in stopping Wombat slavery and preventing the illegal migration, immigration, and deportation of wombats around the world. Of course, this mostly just applied in Australia, because, after all, how many other countries have native wombats? Exactly. That is my point. Anyway, back to the graduation…

Lola was just simply THRILLED to be graduating, but I think we went over that already. Anyhow, Masked Mal, Klepto Karl, Claudette the Crazy, and Confused Chris all went to the graduation. Wodin wanted to, but she was stuck in Oregon, being forced to endure the rigors of studying and so forth. It was much the same with Stan, poor girl. Friedrick and Fluff, however, were pleased to be able to attend. They were especially touched that they had been invited, particularly after the Engagement Party debacle. But we won’t speak of that, will we? (At least someone had been kind enough to free Lola from her position by the fireplace.)

The day of Graduation had arrived. The proud family came to watch Lola walk in the ceremony and receive an empty folder, of which she could be exceedingly proud. So, the family sat in the front row. Every member had a camera or a camcorder in his or her hand. Each wanted to record the special day in their own way. Lola’s Lovely Mom even had a tape recorder, so as to record the moment when Lola’s name was announced. Isn’t that sweet? Friedrick and Fluff were specially prepared with confetti to throw at Lola as she walked by.

So the graduates entered the hall, and the commencement began. A woman spoke. For a very long time. And then a rather lovely gentleman spoke, for another very long time. Lola became impatient. She wanted her diploma! Mal was leaning back in her seat with her eyes glazed over. Lovely Mom had almost slipped into a coma, and Lovely Dad had begun to drool from the corner of his mouth. Poor Parents! Karl was looking for something to… um… borrow (he was bored! And he’d give it back, of course!), and Chris was leaning on Claudette’s shoulder, snoring. Claudette would have woken him, except that she was also sleeping, and every few breaths, she would snort. But the speakers paid no heed to these blatant displays of boredom in the front row. Friedrick and Fluff were incensed. They were tired of silly speakers. This latest one was talking about the time when he had to go to college by walking uphill, both ways, in ten feet of snow, with large alligators at his heels, and enormous falcons trying to attack him from the sky. But yet, he managed to survive. And that means that all you young ’uns…. I mean, Um… So sorry. Didn’t mean to quote verbatim… Where was I? Ah, yes.

So, Friedrick and Fluff whispered for some minutes to one another, and Lola feared what their actions would be. Fluff wanted to sling pudding at the speaker, and Friedrick wanted to tap-dance upon his head. They argued rather intensely for some minutes, until they came to a compromise: they would tap-dance in the pudding. So, they began to dance in the pudding (which was rather messy, mind you), and Lola was quite mortified, though not as mortified that she would have been if the two tenacious teddy bears had tap-danced upon the forehead of the college president. The bears, once again after some minute’s discussion, decided that this was getting them nowhere. So they ceased tap-dancing, and began yodeling instead. Lola, humiliated, slouched in her seat. But the droning speaker didn’t even notice the bears. Eventually, the bears finished, as did the speaker, and finally, it was time for the names to be announced!

“Alexis Abernathy…” And Alexis Abernathy received her diploma. “Albert Abner…” And Albert received his. And so the list of names wore on until the name of George Lewis was read, and Lola was ready.

“Lovely Lola …” And Lola crossed the platform to receive her diploma. Lola received her diploma without incident, and she grinned broadly for her family and friends in the first row. Her Lovely Dad whistled—quite loudly. And Lola was proud. And many pictures were taken. And Lola was happy. Afterwards, Fluff approached Lola solemnly and said, “Yodeling with pudding on your feet does not make strange men stop talking.” Lola agreed and whispered, “Next time, tap dance upon his head, and perhaps he will dance in the pudding with you.” And all were happy, and that was that. (Except for the perilous drive home, where the family would have to brave the roving bands of Big Hair. Hey! It is Utah!)

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An Alarming Proposal

Well, Folks. It has come to my attention (thank you Friedrick and Fluff) that it has been far too long since the last Lovely Lola Adventure. Well, I checked, and they were right! So, Let’s go (Don’t forget to buckle your seatbelt)!

Masked Mal (short for Mallyre. Yes, it’s spelled funny; ask Mal why) was in love. She was perfectly smitten. In fact, it was rather sickening. So sickening, that even Lovely Lola could no longer stomach it. But the fact remained that the rest of the gang had not met her Masked Man! Mal had been suspiciously secretive. So when Mal finally planned a party to introduce him to the rest of her friends, everyone just knew it would be the event of the year!

So Lola went out to buy a new dress (she bought blue), Wodin the Wise musingly decided to wear her purple bathrobe (because it was fuzzy and she wanted everyone to compliment her on its fuzziness), Stan Q. Fitzhubert decided to wear jeans (she didn’t think Whattssis Name really cared if she dressed up), and Claudette the Crazy and Confused Chris decided to go as a matched pair of green sneakers (they didn’t realize that the event was NOT a Costume Party, like Mal’s usual events). Gordon the Goob spent three hours trying to decide what to wear, before eventually deciding that his pink and green striped pajamas would match his brown and red polka-dotted tie perfectly. All in all, it was going to be a simply smashing party!

Mal was so excited, she almost put her shoes on backwards. Her Beloved was going to meet all of her dearest friends! It was almost as exciting as the time she won the watermelon seed spitting contest! Mal knew she had to calm down, before she began to hyperventilate, but her method of alternately running in circles and jumping up and down upon her bed was NOT working! Finally, her Masked Man (whose identity will remain a Mystery until the unveiling moment) stopped Mal in Mid circle, and whispered in her ear, “Don’t forget the pudding!” Mal leapt up; she had forgotten the pudding! She was planning to have all of her guests finger paint with pudding; Mal thought it would be wonderfully tasteful (and tasty)! SO, she set to work making the ten gallons of pudding she anticipated her friends would require at the Finger Painting Station of her party!

At last, the time for the party arrived. Mal hid her Masked Man in a back room, with instructions to remain there until all the guests had arrived, and Mal had given the secret sign.

First to arrive was Wodin, in all of her purple fuzziness. She waltzed gracefully into Mal’s home, and gracefully alighted upon the sofa in a languorous reclining position, drawling, “How simply maahvelous it is to seeee you.” Next, Gordon arrived, and was somewhat unsure of himself and his attire, until he saw Wodin; then he felt all right, because at least HE hadn’t worn his bathrobe! Next, our Crazy and Confused couple arrived as the sneakers, and they felt rather silly at having dressed up as they did, but Mal, always the gracious host, smiled demurely and thanked them for their presence with no mention of their attire. At last, in style and five minutes late, Lola swept in, wearing her lovely blue gown, and slightly shocked that Wodin had beat her to the languorous position on the sofa. But Lola was composed and improvisational, so she struck up a pose at the fireplace, lazily leaning one elbow upon the mantle, while graciously greeting the other guests. There was only on person missing: Stan. Mal began to get nervous; she began to fidget. Finally, after five minutes of tense silence and waiting, Stan arrived nonchalantly, and sat at the table and propped her feet up and asked, “So, where is this guy?” Mal took her place at the head of the room, and whistled the tune of “Twinkle Little Star.” Then she announced, “I would like you all to meet my lovely um-friend….” Here she paused as he appeared dashingly into the room in a tuxedo rented especially for the occasion. “….Klepto Karl!” Mal exclaimed. Everyone clapped and then the real party commenced.

Wodin immediately moved to the pudding painting table and began a lovely reproduction of the Mona Lisa. Stan began to Eat. She was hungry. Lola didn’t move from he spot by the mantle; her elbow had smeared a bit of glue, and she was stuck to the fireplace. But, as improvisational as always, she pretended that it was because she had not interest in any of the activities (in reality, she was longing to go bobbing for apples like Claudette, but she felt too embarrassed to tell anyone she was stuck). Gordon started playing Twister—by himself. Confused Chris was indeed confused—he had no idea which of the entertaining games he should play! And the Klepto Karl began to work the room, meeting each of Mal’s best friends.

First, he walked up to Lola. After all, she was stuck to the mantle! Karl talked with Lola amiably about her study of the elusive Utahan wombats, on loan from Australia. She became rather excited by it. As she spoke rather excitedly about these elusive creatures of the outback, something …happened. But I shan’t tell you exactly what it is that happened. Let us just say that Klepto Karl was up to his tricks. Anyhow, Lola was too enraptured with the subject of her conversation to notice what was happening, indeed, too enraptured to realize that Karl had moved on to introduce himself to his next victim, er, Friend. He began talking to Stan who was nonchalantly shoving a burrito into her mouth. She was hungry. Anyway, while her mouth was too full to protest, Karl, well… You will see. Anyway, then he went to talk to Wodin, who was painting with pudding (and slurping up a good deal of the mixture as well. In fact, she had a lovely ring of pudding encircling her mouth). While she was busy extolling the wonders of Painting with Pudding, Karl did It again. Then, she was too busy licking her fingers to realize anything had happened, and Karl went to talk to Claudette who was dressed as a shoe, if you will remember. She was also bobbing for apples. She was very good at bobbing for apples. She thought it was the most enjoyable activity in the entire world. As she bobbed for apples, once again, Karl did something…. But we won’t go there right now.

Anyhow, the Party was going on simply wonderfully, until two mysterious figures swept into the room in dark cloaks and masks. It was Friedick and Fluff! And they were very bitter that they had not been invited. Mal felt rather embarrassed. But little did she know that the tiny bears had some unusual news for her! Karl was a Kleptomaniac! The guests gasped in shock. They had no idea! Fluff, in a flourish, checked his pockets and withdrew a lovely handkerchief belonging to Lola, Stan’s keys (“So THAT”S where the were!” exclaimed Stan), a pink pencil belonging to Wodin, and a shoelace belonging to Claudette. Everyone was in shock. But Karl just shrugged. Then he said he had an announcement to make. From his breast pocket, he took out a lovely diamond ring and placed it on Mal’s finger and asked her to marry him. “And I didn’t even steal it!” he said proudly, referring to the ring. Mal burst into tears and said yes, and everyone forgave Karl. And he promised never to take their things again. After all, it was only something he did when he first met people. And he always gave the stuff back, he insisted. Everyone laughed. Except Friedrick. He was still bitter that they hadn’t been invited. But Fluff just elbowed him and said, “Hush! At least there is still pudding to paint with!” Friedrick agreed, and grabbed a pawful of pudding. Then he sloshed it into Fluff’s face. “I DO feel better!” he said happily. And together they tickled Lola who was still stuck to the mantle. And that was that.

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