Poochie Cures Cancer HD: I’ll Teleport You In
The continuing adventures of a dog from space…
Poochie Cures Cancer (HD)
Jojo saw the pair and looked down at his Fenji, “Did you hear that one my finned wonder?”
His fenji nodded, growing with excitedment.
“We’ve got to do something, for we can’t have fugitives running from the law in her holiness of friendships magical land of strawberry dreams and chocoalte carousels!”
Fenji was puzzled.
“Fugitives Fenji, Fugitivies! With their misdemeanorious who knows who they could hurt, or… steal from.” He hugged Fenji tightly. “No, I’m not going to allow them to dupe her strawberry succulence into letting them into the worldwhide freindship club, where they could do so much bitter badness.”
I must find this Miranda Wright, and her sister Shirley, with all the draaaaamaaaa, and help them secure these fugitivies.
Jojo bubbled off his Fenji, as he often did when he was anxious. Soon they were spontaneously out of sight.
“Minerva, schmanerva, honerva, Qdoba!” Poochie barked, “Friends? I gots me friends, my whole pllizzle is full of crizzles who’d rocking die to be my frizzle.”
Michelangelo agaped, “How’d you know she was Jewish?”
“Dno’t make me get all ninja surfing on you…” Poochie took a one over of the mutant and his fuse kind of drizzled just like his tail.
“All what?” Michelangelo grinned, “You just a poser dude.”
That hurt poochie in the heartunkiizzlelabizzle, if you know what I mean. You nkow youdo. He cast a downard sideways glance that could rock a galaxy of sorroh. The turtle gave the dog a one over too, mentaly of course, otherwise the dog would have an action figure already. “Hey, oblong up buddy…
Poochie’s nose screeched against the glass of his astronautical helmet and looked at the way uber cool turtle… was it, could it be, that poochie had found someone better to admire? He was always alone on Poochanus, his awesomenest always set him apart, and even when the boys tried to pick on him at school they’d end up looking stupid. It was hard, why couldn’t he falizzle and be stupizzle like every other poochanii? Could this be, something more?
Rafael offered his hand out, the turtle careening through space on his surfboard. Afraid, and twitching, Poochie put his hand into the turtles’ and when he did so, he felt… more poochanii than poochanii, more alive than dead, he felt… an odd feeling he’d never experienced before.
“Here dude, lete me take you with me. You look like you cold use a worldwide friendship club…”
“Is it intergalacticidizzle?” How could anyone love him, his awesomenest always made them feel inferiour.
“Shush… put it your mind…” And the two started their slow descent to a small blue planet lightyears away.
Far away in a lighthouse far away sat a mysterious woman with a robotic combo over jet balck, her stark eyes staring at a bajillion television screens, “The One.” Across the screens flitted a green speck and a brown spack, “Close in please… closer… closer… not so irrationally fast!”
The figure turned in her chair until it was facing the other way and stared, “Peikoff, control yourself.”
“Yes my Rand…”
“Architect! No one is to know I was behind the robotic enslavement of mankind, though they doubted my reason, they doubted my logic, I was right! That pesky bear was no match for my rational value of life. Stuffed bears aren’t alive, right Peikoff? I’m not crazy, RIGHT!?”
“Of course not, no, you’re always right.”
Coolly the Architect settled back into her chair, “Of course, it’s just equations, equations here.”
During the robotic enslavement ‘transitional’ period all the robots decided that if they were to truly control humans, that despite their very superior intelligence, they would need some element of humanity that they would never have. But it couldn’t just be any human, it had to be one of almost comparable intellect and honesty. They pored over the intellectual achievements of the various thinkers of mankind and found a perfect, alive enough, specimen. A woman of logic, rationality, and above all, human sense of life; theyre perfect companion for enslavement.
Then… there was the bear. They called him, The One, in what was to become a succession of Ones and Zeros in the new digital universe. However, this was before the virtual age, when the humans still had rebel camps, and could get into the ventilation systems and shut down electronics with electricity bombs and blow stuff up with cars by shooting them from afar. They kept crashing their tensegrity spheres on their main bases, it was a mess… all to hold on to mysticism and ‘love’. Geez.
Finally they used their secret weapon, Ayn Rand’s hair. The sheer presence of the cut, and her intellectual stature sucked all whimsy out of a room, it was like banality to a faerie, leaving them shriveled husks… They intercepted communications, decrypted the Navajo, and found out where the bear was going to hit next. When he popped out of the cooling ventilation vent there was Rand, her gaze, and the hair. Paddington didn’t stand a chance.
Of course this was after they sent the Terminator into the past to stop the wretched pile of stuffing, but obviously that didn’t work because he was still here. They never knew what happened to that dedicated robot, that dedicated burlesque manly hunk of meaty logical rational mechanics.
The Architect fanned herself. But what of this enormous dot on her screen? What was coming to earth that was throwing the equations all off kilter? What was cartoon land up to? She leaned in closer and squinted her eyes. The fly flew off the monitor, “Dammit Peikoff, what was that!?”
Peikoff was doing situps, pushups, and lifting weight at this point listening to his ipod, so The Architect rationally turned and stared into the monitor. “I see you turtle and dog, dog and turtle… but I have connections too… Old Programmes if you will…” SHe reached down and turned the dial on the rotary, soon the clicks stopped and she said, “I’m on a landline, I’ll teleport you in.”
Written by Asher Wolfstein
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