DAILY MONSTER 144
Good morning. Did you have a good weekend? Between filming new monsters for you I actually managed to get a little actual sunshine yesterday. I think my skin is still confused. I hope you got to have some fun, too! I know some of you did. If you haven’t logged in since Friday, you gotta check out the stories that came in for Monsters 142 and 143. I laughed out loud a number of times. You guys are good!
And then there’s Monster 144:
Somehow the first question that pops into my head is: What band is this guy in? Or is he a fan? He seems put upon. Perhaps you can explain? Or offer him advice? If you have a moment, please weigh in and…
Also, just so you know, I’m preparing a special Valentine’s Day monster for you. If anybody knows how to set up one of these clips as a customizable e-card, please let me know. Because I think that would be really fun! Otherwise I’ll put him up as a scan that you can insert into an e-mail. All that’s going to be on the site at midnight on Thursday.
But of course there’ll be two new monsters between now and then, too?
Why, you ask? Because 344 LOVES YOU
It’s late at night, and there are those who wander out into the darkness. Sleepless? Night Owl? It’s your guess. I do happen to know that the local 99¢ store down the street is a beacon of light and hope for the hungry, the poor, and the just plain twisted. Why someone would want to buy a pair of rhinestone festooned sunglasses at 2:00AM, I’m in no position to judge. I myself was eying a can of Vienna Sausages.
The tall, funky, rather awkward and faded movie-disco star from the 1970’s was checking out a new set of shades. A curious and well known breakfast food icon also needed shades to preserve his anonymity. Highly improbable, but that was the mutual goal between the two. An instant friendship was struck. Two pairs of highly decorated rhinestone shades were tried on and agreed by both to be quite satisfactory. The faded movie-disco star expressed that he was now hungry. How fortuitous! The grateful breakfast food icon proudly led him to the cereal isle. A box of “Fruit Loops” was produced. This was truly a meeting of kindred spirits! The ’70’s still rock!
History was made at 2;00AM on that fateful night. No Paparazzi, just $2.00 cold cash a piece, and, I swear, that’s how Curtis Mayfield met the “Fruit Loops” Toucan.
My story is for sale for a “nominal fee”
“1, 2, 3, 4 Hello Little Monsters, are you hearing me? It’s shimmy shimmy shake it!”
Betty crashed backwards into Alfonso. She skewed his glasses across his face. They were tragically bent like a pretzel. Alfonso fought off a sniffle.
Rodolfo threw his arms back in exasperation. “Be careful of the backwards crashing, Huh?! We went over side look Monday. No? No?”
After years of dancing on the stages of Europe, Rodolfo was still shocked to think that he ended up teaching social dance at Monster Middle. Life. Damn that Althea. Ever since she left, his dance had turned cold. His heart once used used to beat like the rhythm of the conga. Now it just puttered along, hollow like a tinny cowbell.
A new song began on the record player. “Alright this is the tangoing dance. Who remembers? Who does tango?” The children giggled nervously. No volunteers.
“Don’t be difficult, or I make you tarantula dance. You want ballet pointy feet, boys? Yes? No?”
At that moment, Petunia Butterfield, school librarian, was walking by. it was something about the violin, or the way the afternoon light sparkled on the waxed gym floor. She stood shyly at the door looking at her shoes. Rodolfo caught the blue of her dress, the sweep of her leg. There was somthing about her.
“Monsters must not tango alone.” It came out like a purr. It was the sad poem of his heart. He extended his arm.
The accordion sang through the air as Miss Butterfield tipped her head and slid her long curved nose along his. She placed two of her arms on his shoulders, and the other two around his waist in the abrazo. Her touch was light, but seductive, Rodolfo felt his heart skip as he started a slow forward step. She swung her leg between his with a little kick, and twisted back across her heel turning left and right. They danced and danced until the song slowed, he touched her back and swung her into a long low dip.
The children were silent. They didn’t know what they’d seen, but they knew that it was something that happened once in a lifetime. When they yelled and applauded, Miss Butterfield smiled shyly and pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. Rodolfo kissed her tender hand.
Two years later, at a theatre on the Left Bank, they throw roses at her feet. He gathers one up and offers it to her in a deep knee bow.
Excuse me monster people, you can call me Zappanose. They say I’m from Cucamonga, or as monster stories go.
Got my nose from an old hippy, who had way too much to smoke. Maybe that’s why it’s growing, and overflowing, I don’t know.
And there is a question I have about “disco” pink roller skates…I hear the wheels went missing in Santa Cruz, 1978.
They are the perfect shoes now, don’t miss the roll at all, but how can I strut the runway, if my shoes (ouch) are too small? And what about these bellbottoms, that help make me look so cool? Ooooh… I’m gonna shake my tailfeathers, if that’s not too “old school.”
So with my pink shoes, tux-and tailfeathers, and all my voodoo cool, maybe I can finially find all those magic dancin fools.
An early predecessor to Joe Camel, Psychedelic Joe was slated to star in numerous magazine ads in the 60s. The campaign was dropped due to lack of interest in the cartoon smoking demographic, but PJ laid the foundation for JC to shine in the 80s.
Bobby Two-tones and the Shnozz
“Attention Jive Citizen! You are not in accordance with the clearly-posted Weekly Fashion Trends! Stay where you are! Do not resist, or you will be exiled from the store!
(Megaphone feedback, faint helicopter whirring above)
You are also in violation of the Less Than Eight Accessories after 4pm! Put down your currency, and step away from the counter, or we will be forced to use Extreme Makeover force!”
Allan, der Leadsänger der Band DIE ANOREKTISCHEN BODYBUILDER, hat kaum mehr geügend Kraft seinen Schnabel zu öffnen um seiner ausgetockneten Kehle einen Ton zu entlocken. Dennnoch jubeln ihm seine Fans wie immer zu. Beim Klatschen allerdings halten sie sich sehr stark zurück, denn die dabei entstehenden Luftwirbel würden ihr Idol sonst von der Bühne fegen.