Greegs & Ladders, Zack Mitchell, Danny Mendlow [read with me .TXT] 📗

of Carnivals and Things… but mostly of Things

Zook and Naddy

He sat upright in his cage as the sounds of jeering and screaming jarred him from his sleep.

“Come on now, these people paid good money to see you three get it on.”

Moments before he was swimming in an ocean of schmold. He didn’t know it was called schmold of course. Just knew it felt oh so good. Much better than being poked at with a pointed stick. Which he was at the moment. He farted and sneezed at the same time, sending globules of greenish, yellowish goo cascading down his hairy face. Momentarily sure that it must be schmold, he grabbed the snot and rubbed it all over himself. He got some in his eye which stung and burned. He decided to try and remedy this by jamming his fingers in his eyeballs to stop the pain. It didn’t work. It only made him yelp out with more pain. This woke up the other male in the cage. The other male in the cage flew into a rage, furious at being awoken from a fabulous dream. His dream involved having just decided what combination of rotations, spins and poses he would employ after running and jumping off of a 100 meter high dive springy board right into his own, brand new schmold pool.

The other male picked up a pile of Greeg feces and rubbed it all over the first male’s face. To make things easier, we will henceforth call these two males Zook and Naddy. There is absolutely no reason to suspect these names have any significance, they are completely random.

Zook, the first male, did not understand why his friend would share such nice stinky feces all over his face like that.

“What a lucky break!” Thought Zook.

Clearly, this terrific new stench and nauseating outward, physical appearance would guarantee that Zook would get to attempt first, third, and probably eighth as well today. His inability to comprehend Naddy’s reasoning infuriated Zook, leading him to grip Naddy by the back of the head and clang clang clang his good friend's face into the bars of the cage until it was all bloody. Just for good measure, Zook pissed all over Naddy’s bloody face.

By this time the female had seen about enough. She was completely and utterly turned on. She revealed the sterility covers and the two males rushed over to see which one was to be chosen first, third, and most importantly, eighth.

11 minutes had passed since Zook had first awoken from his nap.

This was why Greegs were such a damned fine carnival attraction!

Specters and Greeg-keepers

Viewing this skeezy carnival show was a gathering of Algreenian fog-specters. They were in dire need of some high quality entertainment, having just finished a legendarily bad cruise of some of the more boring outer dimensions, including a tour of the famous invisible dimension. Life is much worse when everything is invisible, despite what was boasted about on travel posters. Carnival Greegs are highly recommended as a pick-me-up for anyone who has recently visited the invisible dimension, and so here were these Algreenian spectres drifting around waiting for the show.

An impatient spectre tried to pick up a rock and throw it at Naddy but his spectral, non-existant hand merely passed right through the solid object. The spectre then asked the nearest living creature if they would do him the favor of throwing a rock at the Greegs. The creature obliged, throwing a rock at Naddy, further worsening his mangled appearance. While this was going on, Zook thrashed his arms about wildly. It was a ridiculously pointless thing to do.

“We paid for a show!” yelled the rock-throwing instigator.

“Yeah! A show! We want to see something!” chimed in the rest of the crowd.

“Don’t you know we’ve just been through the invisible dimension?” screeched a belligerent specter. “Not a whole lot to see there! In fact, nothing at all.”

The Greeg-keeper continued rapping on the cage bars with his electro-club. Greegs usually became obedient once the electro-club appeared. This particular Greeg-keeper was a tall goblin-like creature. He had fangs and claws and red eyes. His name was Reg. He was more frightening than his casually friendly name would suggest, being a tall goblin-like creature with fangs and claws and red eyes.

“These specter-folk haven’t got all day,” growled Reg. “Or do they?” he added, turning to face the specters. “Are you lot dead? What’s the deal with all the floating and the translucence?”

“No, we’re not dead,” replied one of the specters. “We are living creatures born in a ghostly form. When we die we become bodies of flesh and blood.”

“That’s stupid. A bit backwards, don’t you think?” asked Reg.

“I say the only thing that is backwards is the fact that we have paid you for a non-existent show, when in fact you should be paying us for the wasting of our time.”

“I’m not sure you’ve even paid me,” said Reg. “All I’ve got is this invisible money. Can’t even see it to know if it’s there.”

“We told you, that money is perfectly transferable from within the invisible dimension. Once you’re there you can trade the invisible money for any sort of bejewelled holograph-coins or whatever other foolish currency you’re trading in nowadays.”

“Right,” said Reg. “I understand that part. Just not sure when I’ll ever bother to go to the invisible dimension, that’s all. This money will probably just end up sitting around taking up invisible space on my visible dresser.”

“Not go to the invisible dimension? You must go to the invisible dimension,” said a specter in a manner snooty enough to suggest that anyone who doesn’t go to the invisible dimension is leading a wasted life.

“I don’t get it, you’ve all been going off about how boring the invisible dimension is,” said Reg.

“Yeah, but we’re specters. We’re practically invisible ourselves. We prefer to see solid objects to counterbalance our spectral state. The invisible dimension might be a nice change-up for you though. I hear one of flesh and blood feels thinner while there.”

Reg grew annoyed. “Look, I’m never going to visit the invisible dimension. The cost of travelling there is way more than what I’ll make trading in the money. Plus I think it’s all a scam.”

Caught up in their heated discussion, Reg and the specters failed to notice the Greeg show starting in a tremendous way. There was a great battle over who would make the coveted eighth attempt, with Zook prevailing because of his aforementioned newly acquired stench. The show was over by the time the specters focused their attention back on the cage. Because they didn’t see anything Reg was forced to refund their invisible money. Unbeknownst to Reg, specters are not great liars. The pouch of invisible money was indeed real, and would have fetched several islands worth of bejewelled holograph-coins, granted Reg could handle the mind-shattering experience of crossing the invisible dimension’s psychic threshold, which of course he couldn’t, being an imbecilic goblin. After the specters drifted away, Reg approached the cage.

“Those are good customers we lost because of you!” he yelled at Zook and Naddy.

Naddy tried to explain how well the show had gone, and that it was the audience's fault for missing out.

“Never mind,” said Reg as he walked away from the cage. “Useless Greegs. Just go back to dreaming about your green pools or whatever it is I hear you muttering about in your sleep.”

Zook thrashed his arms about wildly.

Dr. Rip T. Brash Makes a Wager

Dr. Rip T. Brash The Third was neither a doctor nor was he royalty. He wasn’t the third of anything, he’d never been to school and he wasn’t really so much of a ‘he’ either. It’s just weird calling him an ‘it’ but he had no discernible sexual orientation. Not because he lacked sexual organs. Rip had no discernible sexual orientation precisely because he had so many sexual organs. He had an absolutely ridiculous assortment of penises, vaginas, coil rods, flipper flaps, egg baskets, cram rams, biddle twocks, horm guffles, abble taters, phrish kerrings, wodder musks, mickle shoots, marrinvioles, and all sorts of other exotic pieces of procreation and pleasure. At this point, Rip couldn’t really remember which ones he was born with, and which he’d had surgically implanted or removed. He was a hulky thing. A clunky, yet carefully put together specimen. He had many eyes, some of which were capable of site. He had a few brains, some of which were capable of thought. He had four arms, three legs, nine tentacles, eight nipples, three beards (but only one chin)… in general he had a lot of extraneous parts. He was like a car with too many accessories, many of which served no practical purpose. Practicality was not what Dr. Rip T. Brash The Third was all about.Rip was brash though, especially when wildly intoxicated at a carnival, which he most certainly was. He was prone to making outrageous and outlandish claims when drunk. Unfortunately for him, his friends were prone to taking him up on these claims and bets then collecting when he failed miserably