Poochie Cures Cancer HD: Portable, possé!
The continuing adventures of a dog from space…
Poochie Cures Cancer HD
Back with HAL 9000 in the spacestation in space with our intrepid heroes Mikelangelo, Poochie, and Jareth the Goblin King. Him and poochie finally had to go at it in a chill out – the hippy dog’s ninja flower shuriken targeting skillz totally exploded the king’s pants bulging escher wall walking crystal ball bubble popping powers by 3.1415 nuclear pickle pizzas from one hangin’ surfin’ turtle dude judge. Bowie glittered down to the superiour prince of awesomenestest… est… est… est…
Mikey stood up and padded othe side of his head with his right hand, “Whoah, echo!” Poochie stood down from his hero pose, turning a ring on his paw turning off the backlight, “Portable, possé!”
ENUFF! Hal intoned PLAY WITH MEeEe, I MEAN, LET’S PLAY A… Michelangelo, David Bowie, and Poochie faced the redy eye. Action pose! The background falls away. Their faces slide in opposingly synchronized with jagged edges. Poochie’s shaded emeralds go horizontal line lighted, narrowed his shades, “No more games HAL!” This has to end!”
Dun dun dun de-dun de-dun de-dun bweedooweeooh-ah! Bweedooweeooh-ah! The turtle leapt up crouching tiger hidden matrix style and kicked forward then hit the cieiling.
“Gravity id NOT your friend here Dude!” the universe-bound computer system would’ve laughed if it had a Noonyang Soon emotion chip, but it didn’t.
Jareth smiled, and walked down the wall, But HAL kept shifting the gravitationality. This didn’t faze the one pi-less cool king of goblins as he just bubblingly glade through the air, leaving behind a pronounced joy of fragrance. It sounded like midnight, so artsy. however no matter how thirteenth hour he couldn’t get to the eye.
The Pooch knew in his p-diddy heart that he had to do something as only his rapping crew hopping Fonzerelli tunkatizzle… I know! He pulled the biggest bling from his neck, a giant police sheild with the sacred heart of jesus on it having a mirror in the middle. He looked himself in the center, then ran tto a porthole and tilted the mirror: “Time to crucify this flight!”
When the light hit the red eye Bowie knew that the computer was blinded so he took his chance: “You have no power over me!” They both just looked at him as there was a still moment of quiet silence where nothing happened, not even a pin drop, cause they were in space! Bowie froowned, “The thirteenth hour is up… hot tranny mess!” He kicked in the eye. Everything shattered into pieces of mirror glass floating everywhere. Alice fell out of the eye.
“Alice?!” Jareth ran from inside one piece of floating to another. Poochie passed by his shades wide in wonderousness. Alice turned, her hair following in slow motion in her own Mirrorshard, just then the sweetcakelike friendship empress floated by in a shard. Michelangelo was banging on his shard, then another one went past his face, it was JoJo! He was riding Fenji through the whirling winds of the nothingness, “Straaaawbeeerrryeee!” Was he part of the puzzle to Irma’s reign of loneliness? Finally, Poochie posed some pseudo-gangsta signs, “I ain’t got no tizzle for thizzle fo sho, jazzercise people, come on!”
Everything went back together again, and there was Alice on the floor, laying on it, looking up. “Who R U!?” The blonde haired girl looked back up at the people looking down at her looking back up at them and pronounced, “Alice,” she got up, “Who r u?” They looked back at her looking at them look back at her and Poochie said, “I’m Poochie punk.” Michelangelo said, “I’m Michelangelo dude.” And Jareth glittered, “I’m David Bowie,” he swatted his horsewhip into his hand.
Alice blinked, “Where M I?” HAL 9000 tried to bong in but he was unable to, “Daisy, Daisy Planted one day by a glancing dart Planted by Daisy Bell…” Just then, at that point in time precisely, all of a sudden out of the blue a siren started blaring and red lights were flashing. Mikey excitedly said, “It’s… red alert! What… are we… going… to do?”
Poochie grabbed the girl’s arm, while Jareth tried to jump into Mikey’s strong green arms, but failed, as he wasn’t paying attention. He painfully gladed to the floor, “I broke my labyrinth!”
“Never mind that, we’ve go to escape!” But how!??!?!?!?1!?!?!!?!?!/?!?!?!?!?!?!/1//1?!???!??!?!?!?!??
Chapter 2 – When The Sun Shines, We Shine Together
IT was a rough day at Shady Pines, people couldn’t find their medications, and the nurses seemed to have crashed their windows, it wasn’t pretty. One old geezer actually was yelling, “FileMaker! Effortlessly manages all of your information!!! WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM!?”
One grandma had small pill bottle, obviously wrong medication, you could tell because it was in a green bottle, shaking it, high off of the seratoning levels, “Inspiration technology people! Has it changed your life yet?”
“Maa-aaa!!” In the distance you could see two elderly woman wrestling for over a vial of codeine, “Stop that Channing!” “But this is how I always talk!”
Just then Detective Goren walks in, quieting all the women with his smooth criminal moves and childlike perky dark protruding curiosity. He glances at the incredible abnormally tall woman yelling across the room at her mother and smoothed, “Is there a problem here?”
“Oh, uh, who are you?”
“I’m Goren.” THe room went quiet, again, “Detective Goren, from the Criminal Intent division.”
“Well, I don’t know about you but I’m getting my mother out of this nursing home, just look at the place. “Yes, I can see… well, it looks like she’s coming over. I’ll be seeing you around, I suggest you stick around for now.” The tall incredibly independent woman looked at him independently brash, “What? You’re not the boss of me, am I under investigation?”
“Oh, no, I just like you,” The Detective winked.
“Like her? Oregano is something you like, either marry her now or beat it, we ain’t got much time at our age. Let’s get out of here pussycat.”
“Oh Maaa, why must you constantly emasculate me?” Dorothy complained, secretly liking it.
“Plese not in front of the nice gentleman, now, if you’ll excuse us, we got to be hittin’ the road.” Goren nodded, with that small cute smile of his, where you don’t know if he’s sizing you up as some kind of murderer or if he actually thinks you’re cute, “Of course ma’am.”
As they walked out ofo the home, they passed an elderly, also quite indepedent woman going up the steps. As they walked out of the home, she passed by them. And as they walked out of the home passing her by, she asked, “Oh, uh, excuse me, is this the Shady Pines retirement home?”
“And who might you be, eh?” The old short one ejaculated.
“Oh, why, I’m J. B. Fletcher,” and before she could say naything more Dorothy chimed in, “Jessica Fletcher! The famous mystery writer!? I love you… r books. I mean, I love your books, just adore them.”
“Oh well, that’s very kind of you, I’m glad you like them. So is this the home?”
“Oh yes, and I’m Dorothy Spornak, here’s my number, I’m around if you need me for anything.”
“Oh uh, of course…” She looked sideways. Oh well, she was here because as she was fishing with Amos, and that other guy with the black hair she felt a certain tingle in her neck, like back in the days when she was a teapot, so she went home and wrote a new book and decided she needed to research nursing homes. She just knew it had to be a certain one because that’s where her old aunt was living, it was almost like a sixth sense, though she never admitted it. A sixth sense that lead her to the horrid realities of death. And not just any death, murderous death, how gruesome. It followed her everywhere, but it could never get her, because she was just too damn happy. That’s why she jogged. She knew, someone was going to die tonight, and only she could bring justice to Shady Pines. If only she had that same sense for her sex life, could she only have known.
“Well, see you around.” Dorothy smiled.
As they left after they passed the elderly indepent woman with glasses that sang songs (you could tell she was a singer because her hair was parted down the middle and her glasses were out of style and she had beautiful skin), and the mystery writer, and Cleopatra, and Amelia Earhardt, and Indira Gandhi, and Babe Zaharias Pocahontas, and Susan B Anthony, and Clara Martin, and Madame Curie, and and Joan of Arc, as well as Lady Godiva, and then there’s Maude! “Hi Maude!” Dorothy said, “Oh hi Dorothy, weird seeing you here, how’s the Mom?” Good Good, okay then see you later. Sophia finally chimed in (her seratonin levels were going down), “Pussycat, I know getting dates is harder, but trust me this is not an improvement. Good men are hard to come by, but at least they come, if you know what I mean.”
Written by Asher Wolfstein
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