Weirdo Land Adventures: Chapter 2: The Elephants that Died

It's 2011. I had just disembarked from the chicken into Grand Weirdo Station. I was safe in Weirdo Land, away from the Oobleck. How I loved Grand Weirdo Station. It had atmosphere. There was lollipop smoke everywhere, and somewhere a guy was playing a sad tune on a victrolichord. Once in a while you would hear laughter or the clink of glasses. Then I noticed, through the crowd, a girl with glasses and a three-foot-long nose. Oh no! I thought, It's Margo Channing! Then she started running up to me, her nose flapping behind her in the wind. Frantically, I scratched at the cement with my fingernails. But she ran up to my side before I could dig a proper hole to hide in. Too late, I thought sadly. Then she screamed to me in her high-pitched nasal voice, “Hey John Smith Weirdy, I need you to keep a herd of yellow bellied elephants for a week! And you better not eat any of them!” She darted off like a minnow with a Fusa after it. “Here they come!” she screamed back to me as she ran. Then I saw out of the corner of my eye a tiny little elephant, about two inches long, trundling up to my side. He was blue all over, and gave off a phosphorescent glow. His belly was a sickly yellow. “Meepa,” he said. Suddenly the ground started shaking. I looked up and saw another piece of chicken. “Boy, I love chicken,” I said, and watched as forty-foot-tall blue and yellow elephants stampeded and destroyed the entire Grand Weirdo Station. There were about two hundred elephants. “This is going to be fun,” I said as the last of Grand Weirdo Station crumbled and fell. “Meepa,” said the tiny elephant.

            When I got home, everything between me and Grand Weirdo Station had been destroyed. The elephants had just tramped through any building as if it were nothing. Then suddenly, a large Gukko bird flew down and landed right on one of the elephants' shoulder. Then Harvey walked up and asked me where his machine gun turret was. WARNING: This is the point where the entire story disintegrates into total weirdness. For your own good, STOP READING NOW. Thank you. Goodbye. So then I gave Harvey his machine gun turret, but then he killed an elephant with it, so the other elephants stampeded and trampled him. It was just about then that a rather large piece of Chicken Pot Pie landed on the ground next to me. As usual, seven leprechauns jumped out and started dancing, so I got in Harvey's turret and killed them all. I hate leprechauns. After they were all dead, Melissa Taplinga started chasing me, so I had to run. Just then I realized with horror that I was well into the second paragraph and I still didn't have a major problem. All I had was weirdness. I sat down and tried to think of what kind of trouble I could get myself into, but I was stumped. I couldn't think of any problem. Then I hit upon it. My problem would be that I don't have any problem! “Oh no!” I wailed, “My life is perfect! What shall I do?” All right. Now I have a problem. Good. I consulted my checklist and decided I needed to find a problem to solve my problem. But that's in the third paragraph.

            Okay, here's the third paragraph. I was just about to get down to thinking up a problem when a  Jellybean Monster came up and started singing a song:

            The theater, the theater, what's happened to the theater?
            Especially where dancing is concerned
            Chaps who did taps aren't tapping anymore
            They're doing choreography
            Chicks who did kicks aren't kicking anymore
            They're doing choreography
            Heps who did steps
            That would stop the show in days that used to be
            Through the air they keep flying
            Like a duck that is dying
            Instead of dance it's choreography
            Jakes who did breaks they're not breaking anymore
            They're doing choreography
            Chicks who did kicks aren't kicking anymore
            They're doing choreography
            Queens with routines
            That would stop the show in days that used to be
            One and all they're not chancing
            What we used to call dancing
            They're busy doing choreography
            One and all keep us guessing
            What the heck they're expressing
            Instead of dance it's choreography!

                                                                                                                                                                       

I applauded. It was a good song. But then the Jellybean Monster said “Here, I'll sing you another one:”

            A kiss on the hand may be quite weird and freaky

            But diamonds are a Jellybean Monster's best friend—

           

“No, no, I don't have time for this,” I told him. “You have to go home, because I am trying to think up a plot for my story.” This made him break down in tears. “Oh, I'm sorry Jellybean Monster, but I really have to think up my climax,” I told him. “Nobody loves me,” he said, and ran off bawling. I felt sorry for him, but I had to hurry up and do the climax of the story. This thing was already overflowing into the third page. “Meepa,” said the tiny elephant beside me. I looked up and saw that all the giant elephants were gone. Then I saw Margo Channing running up. Now I had a problem, which solved my problem of not having a problem, but which, of course, created a much larger problem. I grabbed the tiny elephant and ran. “You get back here, John Smith Weirdy!” she shouted behind me (Margo Channing, not the tiny elephant). Then I heard a rumbling. The ground started shaking. The rumbling got louder. It sounded like thunder. “IT'S THE ELEPHANTS!” I yelled. Then suddenly there they were; trampling everything, and they were headed right for Margo Channing. Before I knew what was happening, they were already where she was, and trampling her flat. Then they passed. I stood in silence for a moment, then jumped up in the air and shouted, “YAY!” “Meepa,” said the tiny elephant.