DAILY MONSTER 59
Good morning! Welcome to a new week of monsters. It’s Martin Luther King Day here in the U.S., so many of you are still off work. Thank you for checking in anyway. I hope you’ll enjoy the extra holiday.
Right now, I hope you’ll spend a few minutes checking out the crop of brilliant new stories about yesterday’s monster. May they inspire you to post one of your own for today’s creature.
Monster 59 seems awfully agitated! Do you think 59 is angry? Yelling at somebody, perhaps? Or trying to get somebody’s attention? Is this what passes for flirtation in 59’s part of the universe? Is that stubble on his head? Porcupineal quills? Frog-like air sacks? It’s all very mysterious. What’s this creature’s story? Of course, you already have an idea. I can tell! Please let us in on the details:
I hope you’re having a great day and that you’re enjoying the Daily Monster.
By now you must know that 344 LOVES YOU
After years of screaming for justice and peace, Huburg thought he could easily transition his skills to corporate lobbying. But when he opened his mouth, something very different came up from inside…
its starting to bug me when you keep on drawing monsters as head and shoulder, I’d love to see some more body to them.
Wow, this monster’s huge! It seems that he could easily gobble up all of the other 58 monsters at once. Those quills on his head are his quickly-growing hair. You see, this is a descendant of Samson, so for every hair he grows, his mouth gets that much bigger! What a strange philosophy, eh?
Petrov Yulichnskaya. One of the most fearless individuals this side of the Jutupa Straits. Nothing escaped his oppressive thumb. When he set his mind to cultivating something, nothing would get in his way. His tenacity could plow through any form of obstacle. Aerating anything in his way to whatever he set his goals on.
A group of very strong adversaries were encroaching on his territory from the south. These defilers used the most basic of guerrilla tactics to infiltrate Petrov’s zones. He had meticulously tended to these patches. Ensuring profitability from his watchful eyes, year after year. He would not yield to these intruders; these insignificant insects. His tyrannical thumb would loom over them and destroy them just as so many had been destroyed before. This was his turf. No one else’s.
As Petrov surveyed the latest damage caused by the insurgents, the hair-blades on the back of his head stood on end in their characteristic wave. Yelling to nobody in particular, the tooth hairs jostling with anger. The problem maddened him to know end. Months of tireless and calculated efforts were being overtaken before him with wreckless abandon. How could this have happened without him noticing sooner? He stood firm, his mind churning with plans to take control of the situation. He jerked on his coat, sternly slapped his hat on his head and made for the Market District – the hotbed origin of much of his activities. Many of what Petrov referred to as his “crew” were there. He would seek their counsel and they would give it without hesitation. Respect and power can do that for you.
He flung the door open at a local business and made his way to the counter. “Nikolai Kopeikin. Now!” Petrov barked to the attendant. “Yes sir, Mr. Yulichnskaya,” came the meek, but quick, response. The dutiful employee rushed to the back and produced Mr. Kopeikin almost immediately. Nikolai was much older than Petrov, but it was clear there was some awe to be had when Petrov Yulichnskaya was around. He idled up to the counter and placed one hand in a pocket to fish out a match to light his cigarette. “Petrov,” he began, the cigarette clinging desperately to his lip, “To what do I owe the honor?”
“You know why I’m here. They’ve decided to take me on. I’ll, of course, require some assistance in the matter to rid myself of these pests.” He folded his gloves onto the counter, placing his hat on top of them. “What would you suggest?”
Nikolai puffed on the rolled tobacco and held the smoke before letting it slide from his nostrils. “I do know your problem. Even with years of control, they will always try to take it from you. We’ve just gotten something that might help you two-fold, Petrov. Allow me to introduce you to our latest offering for … discerning individuals such as yourself.” Nikolai pulled out a large bag from beneath the counter and gave it a once over before pushing it across to Petrov. “Oleg’s Vegetable Continuous Release Plant Food and Season-Long Grub Guard. Premium stuff here. Guaranteed to keep your plots growing strong and destroy any trespassers to your soil. With your skill in the garden, Petrov, you’ll win another season’s fair with this maintenance.”
Petrov unrolled a fat wad to slap down his payment for the fertilizer. “As always, Nikolai, your access to the best supplies is without reproach. Much thanks and a good day to you.”
Hey, Stefan, this guy looks like he could iron my wrinkled clothes! Janet loves you, too.
Hi yusecki. I tried sending you an e-mail reply, but you didn’t leave a working address. I’m sorry to disappoint you with missing monster bodies, but I’m afraid the creatures come out the way they want to come out. As it happens, you may well see some monsters with bodies this week. I hope you’ll come back and post a story about them.
Barlow Hinkleberry was a tough cookie. But with a name like Hinkleberry, it’s no wonder why. He ran a chop shop in west Cicero, best in the biz. They called him Blackmail Barlow on account of his proclivitous proficiency in the art of extortion. Barlow got his way no matter what.
One day he asked me to fetch him a dandelion, a pack of smokes and a meat cleaver. No questions asked. Rest assured, I had plenty to ask, but knew better not to. I didn’t really know what he was apt to do in the event of defiance or incompetence, and didn’t want to be the first to find out. He gets these hairs to stick up on his neck when he’s mad, so you know when you’re in trouble when you see ‘em. Luckily, I haven’t had the pleasure, yet.
We became friends in second grade, long before we turned into two-bit thieves. He saved me from a beat-down on the playground and I’ve been paying him back ever since. It ain’t so bad workin’ for the guy though, he’s got a heart of gold. And as long as the work’s steady, and I get my cut every week, I’m sticking by Barlow till the end.
This monster is no joke.
You may find his spines delightful, but they are a momentary diversion, a ruse to keep you from paying attention to that hungry maw, which will devour you, no mistake.
This is Demonicus Insatiable, the monster that is hunger for all things. Yes, his mouth has those delicate filters which sift away the larger, unpalatable bits. But for all that, he is voracious. You have seen him at work across the dinner table; you have seen him on television; you see him in the mirror. He waits in the pit, ready to swallow whatever you release: desire, sorrow, anger, compassion. He does not discriminate. You let it go; it is his.
Hey! You! Yeah, you! If you eat CornNutz and use slug slime, you can talk loud as me AND have a stiff ‘do too!!! Work from the roots up! That’s it, there ya go!!! And gimme ten pushups whilst yer at it!!!!!
thanks for the holiday monster!!!!!!!!!!
you know, that wasn’t a complaint I made, it was more of an observation- at least thats what it was meant to be. I draw everyday, many many drawings [animation], so I notice when things happen a lot. Its nice to see monster 60 has legs i could see him shooting about, flying maybe at high speed, big grin on his face.
hope i didn’t upset anyone but i tend to speak what i think. Hazard of the job.
Good morning, Yusecki. No worries at all. And now I’m curious, of course! Do you have any of your artwork online? I’d love to see! Thank you for checking in on the monsters!
(off-page): Do you want fries with that?
But when he opened his mouth, something very different came up from inside…
… a massive swarm of krill!
Huburg grew up as a Baleen whale (and is actually a personal friend of Nigel, monster 58). As he reached his teen years, he felt the injustice of the humans fascination with training his brethren to carry bombs on their head(s) during wars. Unfortunately, he quickly realized that his Baleen plate made it impossible to scream for justice and peace. So he had his plate altered (coincidently, by the same practice – specializing in sea creatures – that took care of his friend Nigel).
While he still loved the occasional mouthful of krill (his secret luxury), it was unfortunate when they became stuck in his baleen. For when he opened his mouth to scream, they tended to spray out on the crowd. This did not go over well…
Fishing tackle in the eye really hurts. Makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
Ein Wetteifer geht unter den Zahnärzten des Landes los.
Bobos (Es besteht keine verwandtschaftliche Beziehung zum bekannten DJ) Vater, ein begütertes Oberschichtmonster, hat einen Wettbewerb für Kieferorthopäden ausgeschrieben. Der Hauptpreis ist eine Festanstellung bei der Familie als Privatzahnarzt, mit freier Kost und Logis und Mitbenützung des Tennisplatzes.
Grund für dieses Preisausschreiben ist die mysteriöse Erbkrankheit, die die männlichen Monster befällt…Zahnlosigkeit…
Nach kurzer Zeit ist unter den Wettbewerbsteilnehmern bereits der Favorit auszumachen. Seine Idee, die harten Stoppelborsten an Bobos Kopf in einem chirurgischen Eingriff zu entfernen und in den Kiefer einzupflanzen, vermag zu überzeugen.