Showing posts with label turgid gleams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label turgid gleams. Show all posts

Friday, January 16, 2009

Awards Night!!!!!!


Good evening sports fans! Yes, its that time of year again – awards time.
Well, you’ve got your Tony’s, your Obies and your Oscaries and now for the first time on live-internet, we’ll be presenting the 928th Annual (in this dimension and others both future, past and present time streams) Keepies hosted by Tony Orlando and many other luminaries of the Arts and Sciences including Nobel Prize winner, Lord Kelvin! Incidentally, this entire awards ceremony will be live-blogged by Lady Lyme-Weoghe and Rubber Baby Buggy Bumper!!! WOWZERS!!!

“Ladies and Gentlemen, It is my great pleasure to announce the first category, ‘Best Dining Scene in a Blog set on an undersea vessel’ and the nominees are The Admiral, Brigadier Rossaroni for his thrilling post ‘Inane: (adj.) - lacking sense, significance, or ideas’; Lord Woodpecker-Smythe for ‘MMM, something smells good here aboard the Naughty-Less!’ and Lord Turnips for ‘ Precious Treasure.’

(Live blogging by Lady Lyme Weoghe commences)

Boos and catcalls are erupting from the audience or should I say part of the audience, the Rossaroni part.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, there’s no such story as MMM, something smells good here aboard the Naughty-Less!’”

“Silence! And allow me to announce the winner”

“The winner is …. THE BRIGADIER!!!!!”

The brigadier is walking up to the stage where he threatens the presenter with a ‘whiff of grapeshot,' takes the statuette in the photo above and makes a pass at the awards girl.

Lord Kelvin and Lord Tony Orlando and Dawn ready the next presentation.

The next award is made to someone in the literary world who has made an enormous contribution to the body of Chris Elliot-based literature via writing, filmmaking and charitable works.

The nominees are: Chris Elliot for writing “The Shroud of the Thwacker” ; Chris Elliot for writing “Into Hot Air” ; Chris Elliot for donating time to appearing in the documentary “Cabin Boy” and finally Lord Turnips for his posting “Prisoner of the Island.”

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”

Again Boos and catcalls are erupting from the audience or should I say part of the audience, this time the Chris Elliot part.

“Prisoner of the Island isn’t Chris Elliot related!”

“Tangentially it is too!”

Tony ‘s got it back under control

“The Winner is: Chris Elliot for ‘Into Hot Air’!!!!”
Regrettably, the winner is not present tonight and as such I will accept the $500 Shoney’s Big Boy gift certificate.

There seems to be some commotion / controversy going on -----

“Hey, I’m here”

“No you are not”

Security guards are escorting someone from the auditorium and Mr. Dawn has started on a new category.

Now, our next category is very special, it is “Best Subject impersonating a chicken as if under mind control but isn’t really undercontrol anymore.”

The nominees are Lord Turnips in “Might Chanticleer”, Lady Marzipan in “Set Adrift” and The Commodore in “You Ought to Be in Pictures!”

And the winner is LORD TURNIPS in “Might Chanticleer”

Turnips is coming up on stage munching on what appears to be a fluffernutter sandwich

“First I’d like to thank me, then Lady Turnips then Capt Stuart then Daphne Turnips then……”

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORING, BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORIING”

Wow this audience is tough! Lets see what the next category is

The next category is Best Faulknerian Rip-Off. The nominees are Lord Woodpecker Smythe for “The Lamp’s Turgid Savage Gleam,” Lord Turnips for “Regarding Troll Fens” and Lady Lyme Weoghe for some letters she posted on-line.

What? I’ll kill him – he’s too lazy to look up the article’s title!

And the winner is Woody with 5000 votes for “The Lamp’s Turgid Savage Gleam”

Woody, I must tell you that was some of the finest writing I’ve seen this decade and that includes several articles by Christopher Hitchens’ in the Atlantic such as his review of Revolutionary Road and most of John Updike’s works.

Woody is responding

“Well, yeah, thanks – I’ve considered writing to be a passion along with being a swain and acting of course, I’d really like to get behind the camera next.”

Ladies and Gents please stay tuned during this important commercial break – we’ll be handing out more awards later including “Most Violent Gunslinger” “Character Most Likely to Murder the Rest of the Ensemble Cast” and the coveted “Best Actor Thrown Forward In Time to Appear in a Dinner Theater Production of ‘Jesus Christ Superstar.’”

Friday, November 28, 2008

The Lamp's Turgid Savage Gleam!


At dinner that night, a rather somber affair given the events of the day, the party assembled to enjoy a meal at the Captain's table.

Sir Bocking leaned over to whisper conspiratorially to Zimbar, the halfling paladin, "You know, Zimbar, old mate - Something about that Fedor death speech didn't sound quite cricket to me."

"I know" Zimbar replied, nodding in a knowing fashion, "It seemed like a bit of diabolical overacting, if you know what I mean."

"No dumbkopf, that's not what I meant" Bocking replied testily.

"I mean didn't you think he knew just a bit too much about geometry, mechanics and naval grade rope ?" Bocking continued.

"Ooooh, I get it now"

"I'm not sure you do"

Finally, Zimbar suggested that the two excuse themselves and pay their "final respects" to Fedor in the Planetary Sovereign's chapel in order to settle the matter once and for all.

Sir Bocking got up and addressed the guests "Zimbar and I will be heading down to the chapel to see poor old Fedor off - by the way, my compliments to the chef, that 'Mindblower Sandwich' was simply delicious!"

A few moments later, the pair found themselves in the chapel facing Fedor's lifeless body now laying atop a makeshift funeral pyre.

Zimbar was first to speak "This is awfully strange - but I didn't notice .."

Zimbar did not finish the statement for he noticed two others were in the chapel as well, Cash the coffin maker and Vardaman the fool.

Vardaman had an old cane pole laying across his knees.

Cash says to him "You ain't gonna catch any fish down here - ain't nuthin' down here - you need to go up on deck."

Vardaman answered, "Aw hell Cash, cain't you see that them turnip greens are mightly spindly eating for a fellow of my frame."

Cash ignored the comment and returned to planing then stopped and squinted to check the trueness of the plank. He wanted to make sure he got the bevel just right on account of animal magnetism.

"Hand me 'nother one Vardaman, will ya?"

Bocking broke in just in time to save Zimbar from further moronic speech, "Oh just ignore those two yokels ... look at Fedor, there's no blood!"

"Great Heimdall!" Zimbar exclaimed, "And, look at this" He pointed to a place where Fedor's skin had been abraded by a Sahuagin flail.

"Merciful Idun!" and Bocking retreated a step, "This isn't Fedor, its a Fedor-shaped IRON GOLLEM!"