An Inauguration of Epic Proportions

Wodin the wise was a very wise girl. She greatly enjoyed many things, such as underwater basket weaving, and playing games with her many friends. But as much as Wodin enjoyed playing with her friends, she was going to be leaving them. Why? you may ask. The answer is, because she is going away to go to college. Wodin was sad, but oh-so excited to be making this big move. She really enjoyed being a fun gal with her friends, but she was going away to a far away place where she knew nobody.

“How silly this story is,” said Wodin.

What? said the Author.

“You are making me out to be some kind of pathetic freak, and I don’t appreciate it,” Wodin stomped.

Well, said the Author, if you are going to be that way, I will just write you out of the story.

Wodin crossed her arms and tossed her head. “I don’t care,” she pouted stubbornly.

At this point, the Author must interject that Wodin has always been a prima donna, and has, from the very first, been demanding her own series. The Author, however, refuses to concede, seeing as first The Chronicles of Friedrick and Fluff were such a big hit, and now the series “Lola the Yutz” is so huge, the Author just does not have the time to spend on developing a series for such a bratty character.

“I am not bratty!” Wodin retaliated.

Oh yeah? Prove it, challenged the Author.

“Fine. I can prove it by being really nice to all of those other characters who have more audience time than myself. I even promise not to dump that big tub of pudding on Lola’s head. I will just eat it instead.”

The Author looked skeptical. The whole tub? She asked.

“Yes! The Whole tub!”

If you say so…

And so Wodin proceeded to sit down to a very large tub of gelatinous pudding goo and began to shovel pudding down her throat. The Author sighed and shook her head and continued writing. Shortly, Masked Mal arrived on the scene.

“Someone said you might need some help,” she addressed the author.

Yes, I am in desperate need of help. Wodin has insisted that this story is just too silly, and that she wants her own series. She has decided NOT to throw the tub of pudding on Lola as was originally in the script, and is instead eating it! For this story to turn out correctly, I need your help! Some on has to get drenched with pudding!

Mal mused for a moment, rubbed her chin and whispered something about this being the perfect time to have a beard. Suddenly, she shook herself from her reverie and said, “ I have an idea. I will be right back.” And off she dashed.

The Author flung her hands over her head. Nothing ever goes how I write it!

Wodin was still eating pudding, and she began to look slightly green (it was a very large tub of pudding). But, in her refusal to admit that she is wrong, she continued to put back the pudding. Masked Mal returned breathlessly with Fairy God-Cabby Merv. He shook the ashes from the end of his foul cigar and asked, “Whaddaya want?”

The Author pinched her nose and said, For you to put out that thing! And for you to help me get Wodin the Wise to stop eating that pudding! It was meant for Lovely Lola’s head!

Merv suddenly began to look very red. “Yeh see, getting’ Lola to show up here is gonna be difficult.”

What do you mean, ‘difficult,’ asked the Author warningly.

Merv shifted his feet, which was actually rather silly looking considering he was about 2 feet off the ground. “Yeh see, she’s in D.C. for the inauguration of Jorge Q. Shrub. I poofed her there myself.”

The Author smacked her hand on her forehead. I forgot! Today is the inauguration! I must cover that story right away!

“Hey!” Wodin put down her pudding spoon and looked insulted. “This story is supposed to be about me going away to school!”

You said it was stupid, said the Author. You lost your chance. Merv, poof me to the inauguration.

“Bippity, Boppity, BLEEP!” shouted Merv, and away they went.

In D.C (Dumb City), Lola and Friedrick and Fluff were invited to the inaugural ball, after all they had been working on the campaign too, even if it wasn’t Jorge’s (he isn’t too bright). The party was just getting underway. Everything looked fabulous. Jorge was wearing a lovely tux, and Cal Bore was there too, just show that he was a good sport. Jorge was about to give a speech: “Fella Americans, I stand before y’all today as your new president. Ah may not be the smartest guy, or even the most honest guy. Heck, I’m not even a good leader. But I stand before y’all as your new president. Thank you very much.” Jorge grinned and stepped down.

Lola whispered to herself, “What kind of speech was THAT?”

Friedrick and Fluff looked at one another perplexedly. “We lost to HIM?” Fluff wailed. She felt like an utter failure. Friedrick was determined to make Fluff feel better. So he grabbed her by the paw and began to drag Fluff towards Jorge Q. Shrub.

“Nooo!” Cried Lola. She knew from previous experience that this could only mean one thing: tap dancing on the candidate’s forehead. She began to run after them towards the stage. She arrived there just as Friedrick and Fluff were creeping up behind Jorge and Cal, who were still arguing about budget surpluses.

Just then Wodin cackled evilly. “You took my story from me! Now you are going to get it!”

Lola whirled around and saw Wodin. Just in time, she grabbed the bears and ducked. Wodin hurled the tub of pudding, and it hit Jorge and Cal square in the face.
The Author giggled. Wodin turned on her. “You! You… tricked me! You got me to throw that pudding anyway!”

Yup! Doesn’t the pudding look better there anyway?

Wodin turned back to the messy ex-candidates. She snickered. “Yeah, but it would have looked better on Lola!” Lola was about to scoop some pudding up and throw it at Wodin when the bears stopped her.

“Remember that gumdrops are best left untouched,” said Fluff wisely.

“Indeed,” agreed Friedrick. “And remember to always jump rope in the swimming pool.”

And That Was That.