DAILY MONSTER 43 (and 44)

Good morning! And happy New Year’s Eve, everybody! It’s the last day of the year! Finally! Out with the old, in with the new. In honor of the occasion (and due to a counting error on my part) you get not one but TWO daily monsters today! We’re shutting down 2006 in style!

Monster 42 brought out fun new stories from fun new contributors: Kyle J. Britt impresses with the saga of Planet Mervis and its special deity-in-charge, the all powerful Brach, who truly makes the world go ’round. Very nice work, Kyle. I hope we’ll get to see more stories from you in 2007.

Aspid Istra sees in 42 either a combustible piglet or an upside down meat buoy with an automatically extending antenna. You’re weird, Aspid. I like that about you!

Mogabog is back and identifies 42 as Fredrick Mornin’ Monsta—the son of Mista Mornin’ Monsta (Monster 33)—just one of those loud, annoying kids that never stops asking questions at inopportune moments. (Now where did I put my yo-yo?) Thank you for connecting the dots, Mogabog.

New contributor Brandon thinks that 42 is an elephant on stilts—on a bad hair day. Valid theory, Brandon. What brought on the bad hair day, do you think? Or the need for stilts? Either way, I’m excited to see new stories from you soon!

Victoria introduces us to Sigmund Koppel and his entirely lovely lineage of Monsters. They seem like the kind of people I’d love to hang out with. Just ’cause you’re a monster doesn’t mean you can’t be a Mensch, too.

Last, but never least, Sam B. gives the parents’ point of view on a small boy who didn’t find his place in the world until he found his yo-yo. Those are nice parents, Sam. And it’s a nice story to end with. Thank you.

Today’s two monsters combine the very simple with the needlessly complex. Do you think there is a relationship between the two? Is one the larval stage of the other? How big is one compared to the other? Is one visiting the other in the zoo? Or on the job? Which one’s afraid of the other? Are they even from the same planet? Is it the end of their year, too? I’m excited to find out the facts from you! Until then, have a great New Year’s Eve. Have a brilliant night! Have some champagne! Be safe! 344 LOVES YOU


  • 31 December 2006 3:39 am

    you are great!:)
    happy new year

  • Selma
    31 December 2006 7:05 am

    well, Monster 43 should be afraid of Monster 44 who is hiding this ominous little box somewhere in his tummy! What is in there? Explosives? Nah! Poison? May be! A little radioactive substance? Ah yeah more probable!
    Thanks for bringing all these monsters to life, right in front or our eyes, and thanks for all those contributors with incredible stories! Have a great great year, 344, and may your love and creativity continue to flow!

  • 31 December 2006 7:15 am

    Ahh, Happy New Year! I hope this year brings goodness to you and I. And hopefully good events in current events this year. Nice drawings today, I really enjoyed the first one (43). Looks like a very busy workday for him! Looks like he might be going on a trip of some sort maybe? But, I think drawing 44 would maybe scare drawing 43 possibly. But, in fact you never really know. But, I believe this would be a fact. Oh, and please check out my blog also :). I look forward to visiting this blog daily! It’s really somethin’.

  • 31 December 2006 12:47 pm

    Sorry for not contributing yesterday, as I was not able to get around to it.
    Today, it seems that #44 is up to no good as he goes gallivating around his local pharmacy, threatening everyone with his extremely cavernous mouth. That thing could – in fact – fit the Statue of Liberty inside it. Now there’s something to chew on! It seems that not even all the drugs and medicine bottles that the pharmacy is currently stocked with, plus the ones arriving on the shipment truck this morning, are enough to satisfy old 44. “Me wants more!” he yells. #43, on the other hand, is the poor pharmacist trying to fill 44’s orders.
    “I’m sorry, sir, we don’t have any more Advil or Motrin in stock,” he says feebly. “I’m thinking you’ll have to go to the CVS/pharmacy next door to see about that.”
    “Argh!” 44 yells, blowing poor old 43 straight across the room and into a stack of Tylenol. Suddenly, the front door flies open, and the heavy steps of tap shoes can be heard. What’s this!? It’s Monster 41, the trigger-happy tap dancer!
    “Move aside, move aside!” he yells. “Not only am I a tap dancer, but also a certified dentist! You, 44, come hither!”
    #44 feebly walks towards dentist 41. “Ah, I see,” 41 says. “It looks like you’ve been needing lots of Motrin and Advil for that thing!” He stares at a gaping cavity stretching across 44’s entire top set of teeth. “I can fix that right now.” 41 produces a giant sledgehammer out of thin air, and with one swipe blasts out 44’s upper teeth onto the ground.
    44 lets out a bloodcurdling scream, but then stops. “Wow,” he says, “I feels much gooder. Thanks, doc! I doesn’t be needing painkillers no more.”
    “You’re welcome,” 41 says. He barges out of the door and disappears, but has saved the day yet again – just in time for 2007!
    Happy New Year, everyone!

  • Stephanie
    31 December 2006 2:10 pm

    Dear Mr. Johnson,
    Due to the nature of your management style, unfavorable office lighting, lack of a snack bar, and overall unsatisfactory working conditions, I am leaving my position as Roving Office Monkey. I have enjoyed the job for these 6 years, but, as much as I enjoyed the position, I cannot tolerate the environment any longer.
    As pointed out by myself in our company meeting on Monday, there is a serious need for snacks in this company. I have yet to understand how you think we can work all day, to our fullest abilities, without proper snacks. It is unfair and downright silly to think we can accomplish all of our daily tasks, without snacks.
    Also, the eyestrain caused by the poor lighting is enough to send one to bed for a week. Some days I thought my eyes would begin to bleed. They didn’t, mind you, but they could have.
    I know it is the end of the year, and this will probably come as a shock, my leaving. But it has to be done, for my sanity and for the sake of my need for snacks.
    My desk is cleared out and you will not see me in this office again. I wish you all the best, Mr. Johnson, in the upcoming year.
    Ronald P. Forty, III
    *Later that day, in Mr. Johnson’s office:*
    “SNACKS!” bellowed Mr. Johnson. “That silly little monster is leaving because of SNACKS?”
    Mr. Johnson ran his hand over his ridiculously large face, being careful to not get his fingers caught in his tentacle like bottom teeth. It had been a rough day. This end of the year crap was really starting to get to him. The Boss Boss was breathing down his neck about the low numbers, his wife was threatening to leave him if he missed another New Year’s toast, and now he had lost his Office Monkey because of dim lights and no snacks! Could it be any worse??
    Sighing to himself, he got up from his desk and headed for the door. There was nothing he could do tonight other then drink some champagne and eat finger food. It would all have to wait, until next year.
    THE END!
    Thanks for double monsters!! And thanks for bringing us monsters everyday, rain or shine, snow or fog, travel or no travel.

  • 31 December 2006 4:54 pm

    One minute left in the year. One moment was all that was necessary. The party was in full swing, all the guests happily liquored up and dancing, singing, cheering. The largest party of the year was swarming all around P’ntoch, but he didn’t see any of it. He could only see her. Her red shoes were like a beacon for his large eyes. His many, thread-like lower mandibles were twitching about in excitement. He watched her sashay through the crowd from across the room. Her delicate hair gently swaying in the breeze of the fan. He had been entranced by her all night and midnight was approaching. Several little things kept them apart, but he would be damned to miss a chance to kiss her as the ball fell.
    He stomped over, his bulky frame parting the crowd with ease. She was talking to some friends and a joke was clearly told as her tail fluttered with laughter. Thirty seconds had already ticked by and P’ntoch felt like time was passing him by. Har’took was still telling his jokes to her, but P’ntoch wasn’t worried about whatever rude interruption he might cause. Twenty seconds left. The crowd was thickening in front of him. She was starting to walk in the opposite direction, searching for someone. Fifteen seconds. P’ntoch was starting to get nervous. His palms sweating. She wasn’t moving quickly, but it was clear she didn’t know he was pursuing her. The crowd began counting down from ten.
    “10!” P’ntoch shouldered past some patrons. “Excuse me, I’m sorry!”
    “9!” He was stumbling over some furniture in his rush.
    “8!” She was looking into the crowd before her.
    “7!” Couples came together ready for the final count, blocking P’ntoch from his goal.
    “6!” P’ntoch was so close now.
    “5!” He tried to call out her name, but the noise was deafening.
    “4!” She started to scurry to the left, somewhat in a panic.
    “3!” He accidently knocked another fellow over as he leapt to reach her.
    “2!” He couldn’t hear what she was shouting out as she walked away from him.
    “1!” He reached out and grabbed her arm, swinging her around and looking her deep in her eyes.
    “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” P’ntoch kissed her hard. Her eyes closed and her breath frozen. They stayed that way for several seconds as the crowd hooted and shouted and sang. They pulled apart and she gazed up at him, her face held by his hands.
    “I was so afraid I would miss that,” P’ntoch whispered into her ear.
    “Oh, my dear husband. You never have. Happy New Year, my love.”
    Happy New Year everyone! Have a safe one and may 2007 be magnificent to you all.

  • Rose
    31 December 2006 9:22 pm

    Hey all.
    Sorry for being gone for so long… The poetry switch was broken, doncha know. D:
    Bernie and Erica loved each other so,
    But they would neevr stop fighting, to and fro.
    You see, Erica was a gal that liked fun,
    But her husband Bernie was always on the run.
    “Sweetie,” whined Erica in her annoying tone,
    “You’re always ina meeting or on the phone!”
    Can’t you just take a break from being so businessey,
    and come out to go rollerscating with me?”
    Well, Bernie devised the best plan he could.
    To get rid of that annoying girl for good.
    So he put glue in ehr skates, encasing her toes,
    how she’ll get out of that, nobody knows.
    But Bernie didn’t care, he just laughed!
    He didn’t even notice the sudden updraft,
    that sent his wife into a downhill spin,
    in which she landed right on top of him.
    So she crushed him beneath her weight,
    Now that’s what I call a greusome fate.
    But he still that face of glee,
    planted on for all to see.
    Happy New Year’s, all. May it be a year of greatness and other stuffs.

  • 31 December 2006 10:06 pm

    #43 is a SuperMonster, who carries a sort of makeshift fleshy phone booth on his body, to cloak the fact that he really is a mild-mannered businessman by day…but he’s got a secret, you can tell especially by that impish grin he pulls out, see?
    #44 is the one who is credited with the original Comb-over.
    short ‘n sweet, not feelin’ too snazzily long-winded today, as I’ve gone and caught myself a proper cold, achoo.
    love the monsters Stefan! and all of yousguy’z stories put smile on me face – happy new year everybody, pop a cork or two for me!

  • Rose
    1 January 2007 12:43 am

    Gah… Spelling mistakes galore…

  • 1 January 2007 2:03 am

    Happy New Year Stefan! I enjoyed the double monster day. Looking forward to some great ones in oh seven.
    Sam & Brooke

  • 2 January 2007 12:46 pm

    Some people say that change is good.
    They don’t know what it’s like, to have it be out of your control.
    I had these lovely gamine legs, you see, the sort of things a Rockette might envy. And they were taken away, and instead I have this bizarre pear-shaped body, now.
    And then there was this briefcase. A nice vachetta-type one, with a sturdy handle, that I carried all of my manuscripts in, but that, too, was taken away.
    I’m only smiling because he gave me a tail. It was long, at first, and I liked that, but then he added extra fronds, and I think I like that better. It’s like when people at the hairdresser ask for layers? You know, more body? Yeah, like that.
    Maybe they’re right. Maybe change is for the better.

  • sue bebie
    17 April 2008 3:49 am

    Zwiegespalten, schizophren vielleicht, auf jeden Fall mal dies mal das. Die Phantasiewelten kaum sichtbar portabel verpackt schleicht es unverhohlen auf leisen Sohlen mal dahin mal dorthin. Auf rotenen Rollen möchte es seinem Ich entfliehen…

  • sue bebie
    17 April 2008 4:11 am

    Er hört Nummer 43’s leises Rollen, sieht nichts, fühlt nur einen kühlen Hauch. Die Angst, die ihm im Nacken sitzt, würde er packen und zerhacken, wenn er nur könnte. Aber nicht das kleinste Stück, dieser grässlichen Plage bleibt in seinem Monstermaul. Alle Angstteile flutschen durch die Unterlippenbart hindurch und krallen sich wieder an ihm fest. Urschreimässig zerreisst er die Stille und…
    dreht sich um und…
    sieht einen Leidensgenossen.
    Eine Kreatur mit der er sein Leid teilen könnte, da ja bekanntlich geteiltes Leid nur halb so schlimm sein soll.
    Mit zwei roten Rollschuhen und zwei? neuen Kameraden, rollt er der Realität davon oder entgegen, je nach Bedarf.

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