Snypiuer Posted January 20 Report Share Posted January 20 Snypiuer no feel good . . . most likely dying . . . yes, most definitely going to die . . . soon . . . need soup. and ice cream. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Harmonious_Echos Posted January 21 Report Share Posted January 21 Harmony thoughtfully provides a tanker truck full of the very BEST, creamiest, stickiest soup And some Wonka Brand Non-Melting Ice Cream Also Muse, because she's getting on my nerves rn (shoos with broom) GIT **Muse charges thru the room in a straight line 20 times in a row in different outfits, playing the same tune over & over, screeching "LOOK MA! I'M A TICTOK" .... oy ..... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Harmonious_Echos Posted January 28 Report Share Posted January 28 Harmony is most concerned that she has not seen Snyp recently and has said he felt poorly Hopes you are ok, friend This place is too quiet without the few folks who are still here Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Snypiuer Posted January 30 Author Report Share Posted January 30 Snypiuer. Is. ALIVE!!! Yes . . . yes, I know, yes . . . no, no, celebratory human sacrifices, while warranted, are not necessary, calm down . . . yes . . . yes, you're right, it IS more than a miracle . . . yes, beyond any and all explanation . . . precisely . . . transcends medical, scientific, theological, metaphysical, philosophical and theoretical knowledge and thought . . . true, true, Snypiuers ability, by sheer will alone, to survive an illness that the most omnipotent of Gods would have swiftly perished from, WILL be discussed and venerated by beings, natural and artificial, for countless eons to come . . . O.K., if you must, go ahead and contact everyone you know to inform them of the joyous news . . . I'll wait. INTERLUDE: No idea how to upload music to listen to while we wait, so imagine, if you will, Chuck Mangione performing elevator-type, soft, laid-backed smooth jazz versions of: Blister in the Sun by Violent Femmes Lexicon Devil by The Germs Du Hast by Rammstein Mexican Radio by Wall of Voodoo Belly of the Whale by Burning Sensations Paranoid by Black Sabbath O.K., we're back. Yes, Snypiuer is alive, and it is a glorious day, but that's not what we're here for. No, but before we get to what we are here for, thanks for the soup and ice cream! Now . . . how to say this as . . . tactfully, as possible . . . hmmm . . . it has come to Snypiuers' attention that individuals in his . . . IMMEDIATE vicinity . . . well . . . shall we say . . . they did not . . . FULLY appreciate the very, VERY dire state which he found himself in. No. No, they did not. Was hot soup lovingly spoon fed to him in his weakened state? Was soothing ice cream? No. Not a spoonful, not a scoop. What did happen? Well, I'll give you one example and leave it at that. This interaction took place between Snypiuer, his niece and her mom (Snypiuers' little sister): Niece: *Looking at Snypiuer face down on the floor* How long have you been there? Snypiuer: Oh . . . a while. Niece: Why? Snypiuer: Need soup. And ice cream. This is as far as I got. Niece: Why are you on the floor? Snypiuer: I'm dying. Niece: No, you're not. Snypiuer: Uh-huh. Niece: Nope. Snypiuer: You're not a doctor. You don't know. Niece: You're NOT dying. Snypiuer: My heads all achy. Niece: *Stares at Snypiuer* Snypiuer: And my throat's all scratchy. *cough* Niece: *Continues staring* Snypiuer: My nose and chest are all snuffly. Niece: *Stares* Snypiuer: My tum-tum is all bubbly. Niece: *Stares* Snypiuer: *Looks back at her* Niece: That all? Snypiuer: No. Niece: Well? Snypiuer: My left butt cheek itches. Niece: So? Snypiuer: I'm too weak to scratch it. Niece: *Glares at Snypiuer* Snypiuer: *Looks at her with wide, pleading eyes* Niece: *Tilts head and gives him a "Don't say it!" look* Snypiuer: *Looks back with wider, more pleading eyes and trembling lower lip* Niece: *Tilts head more, glares harder and gives and even firmer "DON'T SAY IT!" look* Snypiuer: Scratch my butt. Niece: ARGHHH!!! *Walks away in disgust/exasperation* Snypiuer: *Contemplates the floor, then . . . weakly* Soup. INTERLUDE: O.K., I can hear all of you, "HOW DID YOU GET ON THE FLOOR!?" That has no bearing, what-so-ever, on this narrative. Was it funny? Yes. Hilarious in fact. Would you have laughed? Ohhh-yeah, you would DEFINITELY have laughed . . . uncontrollably . . . for, like, a LONG time. In fact, had it happened to . . . ANYONE else, let's say a 108-year-old, frail, blind woman with brittle bone disease, would Snypiuer have laughed? Yes. Yes, he would have. It was THAT funny. He would have laughed so hard, he would have wet himself, then fall to the ground in convulsions of hysterical laughter, crawled over to the old lady to, not only, laugh in her face, but to explain in excruciatingly minute detail, EXACTLY how she fell and why it was so funny. Because, you know . . . blind. It was that funny. BUT it has nothing to do with this story AND it did happen to Snypiuer, so we shall all feel bad and say, "awww" and give each other comforting hugs. Niece: *Returns with skateboard, holds by the wheels at one end and uses the other end to scratch Snypiuer* Snypiuer: More towards the hip, thank you. Sister: *Walks in* Is he alive? Niece: Yes. Sister: Why is he on the floor. Niece: He needs soup. Snypiuer: And ice cream. Niece: This is as far as he got. Sister: Why is he ON the floor!? Niece: He's dying. Sister: Oh . . . What are you doing? Niece: Scratching his butt. Sister: Why? Niece: He's too weak to do it himself. Sister: But WHY!? Niece: So that he leaves me his stuff when he dies. *Stops scratching* I do get your stuff, right? Snypiuer: All my stuffs are belongs to you. Niece: You heard him, all mine *goes to put skateboard away* Sister: He doesn't have anything. Niece: *From other room* He has SOME stuff. Sister: What he does have, we're tossing in the hole with him. Niece: *Comes back* He said it's all mine, I'll keep what I want, and you can toss the rest. Sister: Whatever, you ready? Niece: Yeah. Sister: Hey, if you make it to the kitchen, make enough soup for us, we'll be back later. Niece: Bye, love you! Snypiuer: *Listens as they leave, then . . . weakly* . . . soup. We're just going to leave it there and move on. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Harmonious_Echos Posted February 2 Report Share Posted February 2 Harmony & Muse are both grateful our friend is OK....and are roaring with laughter too hard to speak... so I'll write for them. *wishes to provide soups, but soups are not forthcoming* Families are like that! Funny and uplifting in the driest of ways. 🤣😂 I can definitely say with all fairness that mine would behave the same; even my middle brother, who is a certifiable lizard-person, or my youngest sibling who is a squid. True story. ...Those things aside, I almost feel like this story reflects the Pen in how the people in it, come in and, at first, interact, then leave while you're requesting more... I vote that "Soup" shall now and forevermore be the motto of the Pennites Who Know. *Sings with accompanying banjo* 🎶Toss some soup to your Snypiuer, Oh Soup to your Snypiuer.... Come, Pennites aplenty.... Oh Pennites aplenty...ohh...🎶 ('Cause I can't, I'm about as wealthy as a hedgehog in a ditch. Unfortunately.) And also have no Soup. Soup..... 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Snypiuer Posted February 10 Author Report Share Posted February 10 SOUP 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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