A mind trip unlike any other. The wild adventures of a humble, easy-going couple in a small, nondescript American town, including those of a diverse, ever-changing, weird cast of friends & acquaintances, young and old. This amiably outlandish, often irreverent, R-rated tale HAS NOW CROSSED THE 1,000 episode MILESTONE, each of the 1,100+ mini-epics each enjoyable on a stand-alone basis. Just in its four busy years of existence, at this hard-to-find, off-the-beaten-path site and a few no-longer-existant Skunkville threads on a few message boards  , the Saga has received hundreds of thousands of reader visits. Kirkus Reviews says of Skunkville Saga, 'A relentless, bizarre phantasmagoria', 'Few reading experiences match this one', 'Totally unpredictable', 'otherworldly', 'madcap', 'flippant', 'continue(s), endlessly, down a rabbit hole of absurdity....' 'will appeal to.... most adventurous readers' These are hard times for books/novels, yet Skunkville, by redefining and re-engineering the novel from scratch, flourishes on its own tireless, restless, bizarre, inquisitive energy despite lack of any publisher or other backing/funding! judged most similar to Skunkville according to Kirkus critics....both among the greatest novels of all time!
The three men pictured are sitting in a plush conference room at this moment, looking out at the beautiful views of Bali available from their high perch.
Del Phillips, handsome CEO of Delphi Forums, of whom it is said once had a brief but memorable, dazzling affair with Edna Brown, arguably the heroine of this saga, despite her advancing years, is now checking his watch and then his pulse versus the watch reading, mumbling '63BPM at 63 minutes after noon, or 1:03 PM for earth people... Excellent...my compliments to the Chef...just right'... Then handsome youngish Del says more clearly: 'Dear prior leaders of this Blogopoly, is it comfortable to you for us to start now? We have a number of items on our agenda for today...'
As he makes this brief 'opener', Del makes careful eye contact with the other three men, something he has avoided until now, fearing that if he did, the meeting would just be spontaneously started by one of them -- without his clear assumption of control and without his explicit approval. He knows from past meetings of this group that he must take and stay in control, for his good, as well as for the peace of mind of the others, if they still have functioning minds, brains are half-shot or more by age or by their edgy, partying, rich-food, high-society lifestyles.
The other three men, as you would expect, are:
Delos 'Dee' Phillips, father of handsome 'Young' Del Phillips: A hands-on Dadster still active in helping steer the company's strategy, but more of a background character as far as media coverage of the famed blogopoly.
Then there is ancient Delos Phillippe Forumsinzki II, now-feeble founder of Delphi Forums, who remembers all the way back to when the blogs were communicated around the world by the Worldwide Network of Carrier Pigeons rather than the Worldwide Web, Delos who at this moment has a pained look on his mug. "Bbrrrrrrrpppp!' Ah, now he looks much more at ease, although as far as the others...
Among the group gathered, there really is no reaction to young Del's above-mentioned invitation to start the meeting, and after all, this is just a small family gathering, so 'Young Del' begins with...'I have some big news for both of you, unless you've already heard....'
Dee tilts his head and gives Del a sharp look, while saying: 'Taking action again without our explicit, written approval???!!'
Del reaches over and places a hand on Dee's bony forearm: 'Several comments on that, Daddy Dee... or Dad:Dee (prounced Daddy by him) if you prefer... One, I now control all the votes of the Board, so any role you two old warhorses will play is purely advisory and at my discretion. Two, I very much value your opinions, since I can think of several cases where you have advised me that my ideas were hare-brained and nincompoopish...and in each case it turned out you were absolutely right.... These clunkers of mine failed in test market and fortunately we avoided blowing a lot of money on them... But we could have avoided wasting even a few mill on each test marketing if I had just trusted your guidance...'
Dee: 'Yes... The 'test markets' cost us millions of dollars to execute.. It saved the day, but anyone with half a brain and a bit of common sense and understanding of today's sleaze and trash consumer would have known WITHOUT any testing that these ideas were terrible... Now, tell me: what in the name of goodness is going to happen when we aren't around any more to identify your lead baloons before you try to ride above the clouds with them?'
Delos, so old he is lucky to be able to sit in on this meeting, shakes his head at the last comment, the crunching sound that his neck makes as it turns slowly, grindingly making the other two younger men half-nauseous... But he keeps turning his gaze back and forth between the two younger men anyway. seemingly enjoying their obvious squeamishness: 'Lead balloons (~grind~) and other tainted (~grind~) baloney appears all the inno- ha ha - vation (~grind~) ye are culpable of...!'
Just as in the picture above, 'young' Del glares into the video camera recording this meeting and says: 'What's this cameraman -- or OMG, is it camerawoman? -- doing here anyhow? S/he might be a spy for the competition for the devil's sake!!'
Walt Brown then steps out from behind the big television camera, revealing himself by taking off his platform shoes, pulling off his pigtail wig and flalse beard and ripping his 42" fake breasts out from under his grey work shirt.
Delos, growling at Walt: 'Damn! I was just about to make a pass at you, sonny... I can't never resist those big booballees!'
Walt: 'But who's that even older....thing....that's over there in the corner...with a loyal dog skeleton alert at his bony feet? I mean, I thought Edna and I were old...!! And look at his cobwebs...but why is he throwing no shadow? And don't tell me he can still move on his own...or that he doesn't have a shadow, like a.... (Walt's heart sinks at the thought)'
As if to answer Walt's question wordlessly, In a split-second, the ancient bony wreck is across the room, strangling Walt's with a powerful vice-like grip around his chubby neck.... But when Walt, face ureddened and choking, reopens his eyes, perceiving that he lost consciousness for a second or two, the skeleton is back exactly as before in his chalr in the corner... in seemingly the same exact position as before....But is there just the slightest hint of a smile in the tight skin of his gleamingly yellowish-white jaw bones now... or did Walt fail to notice that at his first quick look at him ot it?
Walt, his voice a bit hoarse from the throttling, quips: 'Boy, old Mr. Bones sure is pretty lively -- and mean -- for someone of his age and condition!'
Ancient, but ostensibly still of flesh and blood Delos Phillippe Forumsinzki I leans over and touches Walt's hand, then pantomines a person with SSSH! finger over his closed mouth.
Del Phillips, handsome CEO of Delphi Forums, of whom it is said once had a brief but memorable and red-hot affair with Edna Brown then tries to 'break the ice' and 'relieve the fierce level of tension in the room' by casually asking Walt: 'And how is the lovely and talented Mrs. Edna Brown now, these days? Hopefully no worse for wear!'
To Walt, who has heard the rumors Edna and Del's dazzling momentary 'affair', even angrily broaching the subject with the member of the Skunkville writing team who supposedly penned that highly-rated (i.e., lotsa readers) episode to find out out if it was fact or fixtion... So Walt now rises and stands ominously (well, as ominously as an old half-out-of-shape pot-bellied geezer can look) directly in front of handsome Del Phillips, momentarily blocking his view of the others.
'Look, pretty boy... Is it true that you and MY devoted wife got it on at MY house while I was safely OUT OF TOWN?? I know Edna would never -- well, it is highly unlikely that she would ever, given our marriage bows... I mean at the end of the ceremony, when you bow to each other, then kiss, I'm pretty sure the spiritual decoding of that sequence is 'No Nookie on the Side: Ever!!'
TUNE IN TO THE NEXT EPISODE, WHEN WE'LL HEAR Delos Phillippe Forumsinzki II, now-feeble-minded founder of Delphi Forums cry out: 'Take it to the streets, boys. I can't stand watching violence even on TV... I've already buzzed our Guard Force to drag you two outside so you can pummel and throttle and belabor one another there!! So just hold yer hearses for a few seconds....'
There is a knock on the door:
'GUARD FORCE REPORTING TO THE ROOM OF HILDA BROOMSTIQUE REGARDING HER BEING LOCKED IN HER BATHROOM NAKED AS A SHAPELY FEMALE JAYHAWK! OPEN IT UP...OR WE KNOCK IT DOWN!!'
Walt, musing, the replies: 'You should be more specific of what 'it' is. Our mouths? The door? Our refirgerator?'
THAT'S IN THE NEXT EXCITING EPISODE OF SKUNKVILLE, SOON TO BE AVAILABLE HERE OR AT YOUR FRIENDLY NEWS AND MAGAZINE DEALER.
Walt: 'Well, if you look at the sidebar here, to your left, my right, you can see that the problem children in my basemente' have become a real 'handful'... as if I shouldn't have expected that... I'm such an old fool at times ('What, dear?' 'Oh, Edna says I'm an actively practicing old fool 24/7/365/200+) So, being a man -- and Edna being a young (heh heh) lady of some age -- and both of us of a quiet leisurely lifestyle, we have decided to give up on our foolish, embarrassingly pathetic effort to help kickstart or renew the lives of the misfits in our basement, as a task so far beyond our capabilities and energy expenditure reserves; that we were caught up in a foolish dream, and simply being egotistical and totally unrealistic .
Edna, nodding: 'Yes... in other words, it was another of Walt's impulsive, stupid, completely unrealistic ideas. But the project did seem to work a little in the few days we tried it, allowing Fadeout to be recognized as a member of her gender rather than the lesser (male) one, and perhaps at least partially or temporarily turning around the life and character of the ostensibly dangerous Motel Pighead.... Encouraging him to wash the blood off his face, skin, and clothes, and to stop starting up his lethal chainsaw every few minutes when someone annoyed him, or sometimes just for attention or to drown out Walt's pointless ear-bending and philosophizing -- Frankly, it was unnerving to me to have someone like him with a operating chainsaw in the house... It made it somewhat hard to rest peacefully or even sleep worry-free at night...especially when we could hear it 'singing' every now and then two floors below us in our previously serene, happy home!'
Walt, nodding: 'Right, Edna... But if Piggy's transformation to sweet-mannered, boyish pig-guy holds steady... Well, I would say we at least accomplished a little something for our now-homeless-again lodgers and the communerity at lurch.'
Edna: 'Of course, you're ignoring the latest events summarized in the sidebar, skipping over them like they're not happening or never happened...'
Walt, nodding humbly: 'Yes, yes, my dear, you are correctemente' as almost always... Yes... I guess they're going to just to have to take their struggles into the streets now that all of them have hopefully left -- and we've temporarily hired that Your Home Protection Military Force, made up of ex-military or soldiers-of-fortune to ease the transition period -- I believe that overall the Misfits were surprisingly grateful overall for our brief try, although some have briefly referred to returning to 'pay us what we deserve for kicking them out' and all of them, regardless of whether they appreciated our effort or not, promising to stop back and see us very, very frequently...as they really have no other place to go!''
Edna: 'Yes, to which I said: Don't bother coming back! You must go forwards in life at all time, never backward!~ But then when poor Fadeout and the re-engineered Pigman began to weep about not seeing us again, or not be able to slake their desire for revenge, I broke down and said maybe we can have an annual reunion -- not at our house, but some other neutral venue...Like the Spotted Owl Lodge in West Skunkville!'
Walt, nodding: 'Yes, I get you... and then we'll become deathly sick at the last minute and be unable to come...'
Edna: 'Perhaps... You know, you're becoming more cowardly with every year of yer decline!'
Walt, agreeing: 'But as Noel Coward once said: 'The higher the building, the lower the murals...'
Edna: 'I don't think that is the actual quote, my love, it was as I recall, 'The higher the murals, the lower the morals...'
W: 'No... That just doesn't sound right.... But say goodnight, Edna...'
E: 'Goodnight, Edna. But why should I do that? I'm wide awake and full of energy!'
W: 'No, I don't mean say goodnight to me necessarily, but to our wonderful, loyal, attractive, kindly, intelligent readers.'
E: 'Sophisticated readers like those who visit us here can see and abhor an axx-licking line like that a mile away and hold it against you forever!'
W: 'No, I disagree. Our readers are too nice and well-adjusted to hold pointless grudges against imaginary people or their creator, who may also be imaginary... I heard this whole blog is basically computer-generated from other a synthesis of other supposedly humorous material, and then some programmer just fixes the typos and the parts that are completely illogical...although he misses work alot because of his 'habit', and so many episodes are straight 'off the machine!'
E: 'Well, I guess it's the wave of the future... First computers replace the writers, then the readers.... So in the end...'
W: 'What, my dear? Tell me about the end.'
E: 'As they say, in the long run, we'll all be de-funked.'
W: 'Just playing things straight then, robotic? It would certainly be sad not to be funky no mo...'
If you read our last episode, you might remember that Mr. Motel Pighead seemed to be acting in a chauvinistic way towards Fadeout, who previously was almost invisible (thus the name Fadeout) but now, with a little more visibility provided by some quickly applied makeup, may in fact be female...and rather attractive at that!
A ruckus of sorts followed in the kitchen, with no significant harm done, other than to the peace of and maybe even sanity of the occupants/inmates of Walt & Edna's cramped new charity basement.
Walt and Edna were awakened and quickly arrived at the scene of the apparent disgrace, where Pighead, his bloody chainsaw always nestled in his arms, had jest fallen backwards down the long flight of steps leading to the Brown's basement, where all the Misfits are now staying by the Brown's grace.
Edna comforts poor Fadeout, happy to actually be able to see her(?) albeit vaguely, her exotic face still darkened by mysterious shadows. 'Yes, honey... I do believe you are a feminine being like myself, upon closer examination.'
Fadeout: 'Well... that would explain a few things. But since no one could see me and I was so light on my feet.... Strangely, I have jest lived my life nibbling on other people's food when they weren't looking...and using their toities as well sometimes...Bad me! And not even thinking about much more than my own survival.'
Walt, putting his arm around where he approximates the shoulders of Fadeout are: 'Well, I'm jest glad you are here with us... And Edna, given what's happened, I think it's important that we let Fadeout live in our, executive part of the house for a while, near to us!'
Fadeout: 'But please... I don't want you to necessarily put Mr. Motel Pighead back on the streets again... Maybe I just saw a bad side of him... Maybe he's learned from this...Maybe that fall down the steps will knock some good sense into him... His scent has defitinitely improved, anyways!'
The 'new' Earnest Pig, laden with an almost overwhelming scent of Aqua Velva lotion, to give him not only a new look, but a new ambience, no longer the bloody-shirted Motel Pighead with his roaring power saw, blood-spattered face and clothing, says he will soon officially announce his new name to the world, which of course is not waiting. And he will alert the local, state, national, and world governments to make the name change in their official records -- to remind of his amazing transformation!
Fadeout is enjoying a cup of odorless, deep brown FakeMart 100% Deflavorized Decaffeinated Coffee. 'Mmmm....It's jest like clean-tasting, hot, deep brown water... There's something really special about it... But it has no caffeine or other mood alteraters, so it must be mind over water.'
Unnoticed, the usually squeely, dirty, stinky, oinky, noisy, snorty, nasally, snotstringy, gross, self-centered, curly-tailed (sticking out of the back of his jeans through a special pigtail hole) star of stage and screen Motel Pighead has quietly, greedily stepped into the far end of the room, his always-loaded machine gun nestled in his arms for 'pre-emptive pretection'... The piglike being is coming through the door from which the new somewhat more visible Fadeout emerged maybe 7 minutes and 23 seconds ago, roughly.
How is Motel Pighead managing to 'turn off his usual piggish grunts and body-sounds (regular snorts & noxious fxrts) so he can 'spy on Fadeout, or at least get his pigwits about him in this weird situation???
Fadeout, lost in her own thoughts, rises to go pour herself another strangely satisfying rich brown cup of odorless/tasteless/textureless FakeMart 100% Deflavorized Decaffeinated Coffee... Fadeout had always assumed he was a man from what little she was able to see of herself in a mirror, but now -- s/he's not at all so sure. S/he feels as if s/he is probably far more female than male under closer examination, albeit one whose femininity make suddenly Fade Out and be replaced by masculinity... 'OMG!' she exclaims to herself... 'I sure hope that's not the way it's going to be... I'm kind of feeling okay jest as I yam! Looking at my reflection has opened up a hole new visita to me... One who where I might possibly be regarded as a not unattractive feminine type... Maybe I need not surround myself with darkness and loneliness any more!!'
Then she ears the terrifying sound of a nasally pig grunt that seems to be saying: 'Heynk girlnk... My namoink is Moteloink! snurt SNUURRT puuigsnortheadoink! Let's xxxx right now on the kitschen tableau!'
Fadeout, immediately stressed by the seemingly gross masculinity of this fellow 'inmate' at the The Browns' Kindly House of Charity for the Repulsive and/or Misunderstoot-toot Missfit or Misterfit, slowly turns and says, very softly and shyly: 'My name is Fadeout and I think I've seen you a cupple of times befor...dunn in ahr bessmint....snurting aroun' wit' a Cr'pM'rt paper shopan' beg over yur ugh!-elly hed n' shulders in th' debasemente', mebbe to hide yer uh uh les jus say unusural fass..jess like I trite to hite my invizability by waring a whight shet which hed th' giv'way of thoze black, empty I-holes -- but y' see I HADs to see -- I meen wit awl yu uggelly purversts duwn thir! I meen t' pertectile m' self!
To Fadeout's shock and flashing terror, Motel Pighead gets right in Fadeout's still-80% invisible, see-thru facet, at a loss for words for his feelings of rage and injustice. 'SNORT! GRUNT! SQUEAL! OINK! SCREE! GROAN! SCREECH! ROAR! GROWL! BARK! CROAK! CAW! HISS! BELLOW! SPUTTER! MOOOAAN! GECKER! CHORTLE (kinowingly)! BLEAT(like a stuck pig)! MAW! WHEEZE WHEEZE WHEEZE WHEEZE.......
Fadeout: 'Wheeze, eh? A smoker, eh? Or havya lit yurselves git even fatter thin a pigge???'
....and Motel Pighead then staggers backward, his portliness coupled with his small Size A hooves generally making him clumsy and ill-of-balance...and then chokes on his angry words, spitting out wads of paper from his mouth, which Fadeout quickly notes has all of the sounds mentioned above ('SNORT! GRUNT! SQUEAL! OINK! SCREE! GROAN! SCREECH! ROAR! GROWL! BARK! CROAK! CAW! HISS! BELLOW! SPUTTER! MOOOAAN! GECKER! CHORTLE! BLEAT! MAW! WHEEZE WHEEZE WHEEZE WHEEZE.......ARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!--SEE NOW YUV KILT ME!!!!!'), plus others even more obscene...as MPH then crashes to the floor, a cracking sound perhaps like his back or at least leg breaking reverberating through the now disrupted kitchen!
All of this ruckus has the effect of alarming a previously snoring Walt, who, waking up deep-sleeping Edna for about the 5th time, cries: 'Edner.. Edner!!' EDNER!! WAKE UP!!! Thar's some kinda nasty disagredlement going on right below..in our own beloved kitschen!!'
Fadeout: 'Walt... I hate to trouble you and Edna and especially Fiddles....but....but....The other guys in the basement are ignoring me, bumping into me 'accidentally', like pretending I'm not there!'
Walt, cranking his head around from where he sits at the kitchen table, believing he's hearing the thin, faint voice of someone or something... But at the same time, uncertain that he is!
Fiddles, who has been sleeping between Walt's feet: 'Brother? Did you faintly hear what I just faintly heard, or are your ears too damaged from the all the musket fire that was about you when you lost your left nipple thanks to a Russian sharpshooter during your side's Famous Charge of Dignity during the Crimean War??'
Walt, lifting his head and staring off into somewhere that was not in this room, not in this time, not in this century, maybe not even in this dimension....finally answering after a long delay...
'Yes: Yes, as a matter of fact.... I did hear it.... Fiddles...That's yer name, isn't it: Fiddles?'
Fiddles, cutting a xxxx that was not fashioned for worlds where people had sensitive noses...'Sorry, boss. But now I have a premonition that Fadeout is in the room with us... And has been for maybe the last two days: it's hard to give the exact time frame.... I think I finally picked up his faint, misleading smell.... Almost like the smell of air that has been laboratory treated to have no odor to it...to be completely neutral... If you catch my drift...'
Walt: 'Phheewww! I just caught yer drift and I'm not happy about it, oh four-legged pal.... I may have to move your lodgings down to where the other ten or so societally-unwanted fellows are, in our humbly remodeled basementery.'
'Can I put a word in edgewise? Or are you prejudiced against me because my voice is so weak and my body is so pale and ethereal?'
Walt: 'Speak up, brother, I can't hear you!!'
Fiddles, jumping up, his short hair seemingly standing on end: 'What... Who...Where....When...Why are you talking as if a persona has just arrived yet I see nonesuch?'
Walt. shaking his head: 'Weren't you just saying you thought we had a 3rd... And should therefore consider playing a round of cut-throat pinocle... Not for money...Just for the mental exercise?'
'How fortunate... I happen to have a pack of playing cards in my back pocket. I was thinking the three of us might play.. maybe Edna making a fourth!'
Fiddles, cockling his ears now: 'Yes, boss.... I do think I can hear something too... Like the faint sound of a human voice that is actually conveying relevant thoughts and ideas, but which we are unable to hear well enough to make any sense of all!'
Edna bursts through the swinging door laden with shopping bags that Walt and Fiddles help her to place on the table, Fiddles mainly giving placement advice and moral support due to his size and lack of grasping appendages.
Edna: 'What's all this swirl and scent of controversy that I sense?? Did someone spill their cup of Ovulatine on my kishken floor??'
'Don't you really mean kitschen floor?'
Walt: 'Gee, guys, I've been thinking of making derma for a while, even though I'm not Yiddish, rather more skittish, if anything, lately...
'Never mind... I'm going back down to the basement and try to get one of those losers' attention... Sometimes I feel almost like I don't really exist... That I'm just a figwort of someone's imaginementation...'
Fiddles: 'Did someone just leave the room? I feel a discontinuity in the Force... As if someone came and then left, hurt: as if we had completely ignored them!'
Walt slaps himself on the head: 'I felt that too! I'll bet you Fadeout was up here and -- unbeknownst to us, we dissed him -- we ignoregulated him as President of Nothing...we didn't even give him the cold shoulder, or even a cold shudder,as you would a ghost... Nothing...We treated him like he didn't even exist. Have you ever thought what it would be like to not exist, to not be here, and to never have been anywhere,,, Never been born, never passed on to a kinder, gentler or maybe worser hell..?'
Edna, pretending to strangle Walt: 'Shutupski immediato my love!! This is no problem. I yell down the basement steps... 'Fadeout: Come Back Up Here.... I demand this of you, Fadeout!' While I mix up this vat of STANDOUT Appearance Strengthener I bought at CrxpMart... For people or other intelligent beings who have a hard time attracting enough attention that they can actually have meaningful relationships with autre peeple.'
Walt, rising in a wobbly way from the wobbly chair on which he had been sitting too long: a kind of 'squisshhhhatccchaaieeeee!' being heard by all except maybe Walt himself as he arose.... 'Leave it to me, darling... I'll have Fadeout up here in ten seconds flat!'
'Hey guys... It's me Fadeout... Hulp muh! Hulp muh! IUh'm stuck un thuh buttum of Wults cumbut buuts!!''
And with that, Walt turns and takes a decisive, heavy step towards the basement, which produces a strange thrill of fear in each of those gathered in the room, and also a final tiny cry for help followed by 'Never mind...I'm Finnished!' that stops abruptly when Walt's heavy workshoe grinds into the hardtt lintoleum floor as he turns decisively towards the basement door....
After a nice dinner at Skunkville's famed Beef & Barf, which featured plenty of both, mainly because it was one of their inexpensive $10 Eat and Drink All You Can Nights, the Browns and their guest Gus Zilla, the pint-szed fellow who actually 'mans' the high-tech Gadzilla outfit in the Gadzilla movies, not to be confused, as Edna and Walt originally were, with the much more legitimate Godzilla flicks.... Although both series have attracted international acclaim as well as a certain amount of controversy.
Young and handsome Gus, as they take a leisurely, friendly walk in the fresh air back to the Brown's humble abode, Edna hanging all over Gus, in awe of his 'famousosity', as she is calling it, having been the one of the trheesome to have sampled some of the free but potent drinks at the the Beef & Barf Blackout Bar, located right next to the restrooms for easy escape in case of any nausea... The Blackout Bar Restroom being festooned with a vast variety of pictures and graphics that often cause disorientation and nausea.
Having almost literally 'doven into all the tasties',as Gus Zilla described it, and now sick as a seasick dog who ate some unidentifiable half-rotted dead animal, Gus needs to hang on Walt on his one side and Edner on the other... But when 'Vesuvius begins to erupt again' as Walt has coined it, he & Edna push Gus down in the nearest empty seat -- or if none available, into the nearest occupied seat with someone who doesn't look too dangerous...or if that's not available, just cushion his inevitable crash to the barf-soaked floor, so they two can go ootside and get some semi-fresh air....yet there are barfers all over ootside as well, on the roomy 'grounds' of the sizable Beef & Barf...And, becoming a bit panicky themselves, they now consider just forgetting about Gus, since Walt has shoved money plus a return ticket to his residence in Toledo in his pockets one of the times he had to pick him up again...
'You know, Edna....We made a big mistake with Gus.,.. We got carried away with our idea of having a flock of weirdos whom we could nurture and care for in our basement... starting with the ones who were already living there, having burrowed a tunnel into our cellar last winter...partly we were well known for being old, caring, easy-going, charitable people.'
Edna: 'Yes, Walt... But none of the weirdos who have been down there in the last year were bothering us... and certainly not messing up our basement. You yourself noticed a number of clever and well-executed basement improvements that had been made by the weirdos and vagrants and the vagrant weirdos too, of course.'
Walt: 'Yes... Exactly... And they seemed so shy too... We had to be careful about going down there to grab something from the basement, like some clean laundry (we realized, remember, that any laundry we threw down the basement steps as was always our habit, was cleaned and pressed almost professional-like, within 24 hours).'
Edna: 'Agreed, no doubt.... But the occupants were so incredibly shy and evasive that we could only speculate on their existence and try to picture what they might be like in our mind's eye!'
Walt: 'Yes, and it was a real breakthrough when I had that talk with the near-invisible guy -- Fadeout! That was his name: I think you may have met him yourself -- and talked about how we could improve things 'down 'dere' for them and maybe gradually bring them out of the darkness of loneliness into the light of love and caring...'
MORE TO COME SHORTLY
Edna, her hand over the phone receiver as she says: 'There's a gruff-voiced being called Godzilla on the line... He claims he's living on the Skid Row in South Toledo of our grand state of O-HI-O, and wants you to come pick him up tonight if you can.... He sounds like he's really in bad shape, Walt... Like we'd better help him anon or something terrible may befall anon him!!'
Walt, relaxing in his easy chair, shaking his head and staring at his wife with extreme perplexity: 'Seriously, Edna.... How can I pick up Godzilla in my old but still semi-trusty and wonderful 1950 Studebaker Commander... I mean it's a lovely, fairly commodious auto -- But isn't Godzilla like 100 feet tall and 20 tons, a being who spouts huge megabursts of real, redhot, 2000 degree, radioactive killer-bursts from his piehole every few seconds??? I mean mmddfnmrg kjlfldfl sfnls....mumble mumble etc.!!!!~'
Edna, whom, has as you can read just above, has firmly placed her hand over Walt's mouth so she can regain the 'floor'. Edna: 'That's where you're mistaken, tubby hubby... They use special effects to goose Godzilla up to seem like a much bigger size than he really is... Gus Zilla, the man who has been playing the terrifying monster since the 1950's, and is now reportedly close to 90 years old, and was a mere 5' 8" when he started playing the part, and now is measured at only 5' 6 1/2" and 130 pounds with his fake dinosaur feet off!'
Walt, shaking his head...a teardrop coming into his right eye, the one Edna can see better from her current vantage point... At some point in this conversation, they jointly moved outside to the car, Walt politely opened the passenger door for his wife, closing it when Edna was safely ensconced inside of the Studebaker, then half-circled the car and climbed in the driver side of the Stud... and started nervously, dutifully driving to Toledo with his betrothed, while Edna is putting on her makeup to make a good impression on Godzilla....
Walt, noticing her cosmetic labors: 'And Edna... Look. How can you presume that a dragon like Godzilla even cares anything about how a human looks or even can tell the difference between a female human face and a male human face -- or a female human face with makeup versus one without it? These throw-forwards like GZ may simply be interested in eating the human, as if we were no more than a frankfurter ensconced in clothing and cosmetics -- both of those simply making his meal less pleasante'!'
Edna. thinking through this edgy situation aloud as Walt listens despite himself: 'If that's all they think of us: food... That's quite humbling for a race like ours that exalts itself on how great and multi-talented and individualistic we are...
'And I would imagine the synthetic materials in our clothing might make the poor monster sick....Maybe even make 'im gag and even burp or bxrf up bits and pieces of us onto the ground. Look, Walt, I'm going to strip down to my bra and panties just in case he's hungry... It's making me nauseous thinking of him choking on my jacket or my slacks... Me: who otherwise, without clothing, might be an absolutely delicious, spicy, saucy treat!'
Walt, suddenly super-alert: 'Look: ahead... There It is.... The monster who has saved the world on numerous occasions, if you believe that his movies portrayed real events, not just reel events....Standing outside the Toledo bus station with a Godzilla baseball cap on....'
Edna: 'You mean. there He is, star of stage, screen, and reality... But OMG!! It looks like he's just a wimpy 5' 8" ....that's even shorter than you, for gosh sakeys! What a gigantic fxxxin' disappointlement!!! He's even shorter and looks more disoriented than you, for gosh sakeys! And what are all those flowers for?'
Walt, beaming: 'Yes... But practically speaking, now it will be easy to bring him back so he can share our basement with other people in the same field.... We'll all have plenty of seating space in the Studebaker.....While he may bide his time in our friendly adobe, looking ahead to a new start, a rebirth, a whole new direction to his life... Maybe, for instance, being a Mr. Fixit, rather than a Mr. Breakit or Mr. Crushit or Mr. Annihilate it!!
Gus Zilla, shockingly young-looking when seen close-up, opening the front car door and bowing and gracefully handing Edna the flowers he has purchased for her, as thanks for allowing him to share her house (and hopefully her bed as well, he thinks to himself) ....'I never expected from talking to Old Walt that his wife would be as charming and vivacious and hot as you are, my love!'
Edna, climbing out of the car and politely opening the rear door so that Gus can have a comfortable seat not squeezed in the front with the two geezers... Then, on a hunch, she hops in the back with Gus.
'Walt, I'm sure you won't mind driving without a co-pilot for a while, will you? I want to meet this Guszilla and see what kind of a monster he really is... But you, Walt -- please keep yer eyes on the raod ahead... We want to get home in one piece...! Honestly, when you kept breaking wind the last hour against my preference for keeping the Studebaker's internal airflow more healthy and sweet-smelling... But now, the apparently psychotic Mr. Zilla has read my thoughts by bringing these luscious, fragrant flowers!'
If you take a gandle at the picture on the side of my first interviewee, you'll see I've filled you in a bit on the beginning of my interview with him. It was not easy interviewing the dark, faint fellow... almost like interviewing an apparition or a wisp of fog. Sometimes I was convinced that I was alone, and that I imagined I saw the faint outline of someone across the table from me. However, there was no doubting that he did politely pull the kitchen chair out and then apparently sit in it.... Then gradually slid it a little closer to me as we had our 'talk'. I'm not sure he actually was answering me with any recordable sound... It felt more like a faint whisper he was transmitting directly into my own brain.
'At times I take up residence in a person's brain for a month or two...' he explained at one point. 'I'm very quiet, I don't eat much, and I'm a clean man... Sometimes my hosts are oblivious to my presence, probably figuring it's just more weird thoughts or hallucinations just like they've been having ever since they fell out of a tree on their head when a teenager.
'People at first are surprised by some of my idiosyncracies...but then they seem to either accept me as is or forget that I'm even there...
'People like us realize that they never have had a mother or father or any kind of caretaker....but somehow manage to get by because our physical and emotional demands are so modest
'People like us are always asked to play the role of the ghost or spook in any school dramas, if they are thought of for any role at all --
'And we tend to receive excellent grades but never study, and never understand the questions they are asking on tests...so we answer with what we think is random gobbly-gook that might sound plausible to someone who was grading very quickly....But amazingly, our answers were almost always graded as correct, and even would elicit the teacher to comment something like, 'Brilliant and succinct synthesis!' or 'You were the only one in the entire school that had this critical, fundamental, essential but subtle insight!'
And we didn't even have to pay to ride on the bus...or most any kind of transportation....or anything that involved 'paying at the door'... we would just go on board, unseen of course,...and take a seat...or whatever and some people would at first think we were an empty seat... but when they got close, something made them steer away from sitting on us, as if they weren't sure after all whether the seat was empty or not....somehow their brain senses our presence and it makes them uneasy...so they move on, maybe even have to stand or sit on a friend's lapdog...'
I Walt then said: 'I can hear your comments clearly... But I can't say I'm really sure I am looking at your face.... Can you tell if I am, from yer advantage pernt?'
He replied: 'Yes actually, you are staring at me, seeming to make friendly 'eye contact' -- or you were until a minute ago... Now you're looking down at my Bob Crotchet...So if you wouldn't mind shifting yer gaze up a bit, or off to the side? So, Walt, you seem to have a better sense of or awareness of beings like us than most people... I can tell that you are quite old but your mind is still young and alert, although full of all kinds of dopey thoughts and ideas... That are nonetheless amusing if otherwise worthless!'
Walt, reaching out to pat the hard-to-see fellow on the shoulder, and completely missing: 'Hey, thanks Faint Friend...! That's one of the nicest things anyone's ever sed to me fer a lung timex! You know, the more I am talking to you, the more clearly I have sense of where you are and what kind of look is on yer mug!'
The faint fellow then suggests, 'What about calling me Fadeout? Really, I'm comfortable with any kind of name except obscene or upsetting ones, like Fakeout or Fartghost...'
Walt, actually managing to slap the faint being on his fully substantial, solid back: 'Fadeout is a super monicker... Now... While you're staying in our large, remodelled basement, just for people like yourselves who might otherwise have a hard time finding a decent place to live, would you want a single room, or a slightly larger double, which you would have to share?'
'You decide, Walt... Say, speaking of doubles.... Will there be any female residencias?'
'Good question, Fadeout... It could be awkward, because while we want to bring in people who wouldn't be welcomed and accomodated elsewhere, if we create overcrowding the situation may not prove to be a very good answer to our guests!
Fadeout: And, with some females, more personal space or even protection may be required than others... If only by the more trustworthy inmates protecting the sweet, innocent, helpless inmisses (or ones faking to have those traits)...The brassy, hard-knuckled inbabes will be more than able to keep their turf just the way they want it!
Fadeout's comments fade out with: ''Well, I hope you take me on. If nothing else, I think what you and Edna are doing is kindly and remarkable.... But don't feel bad if you shut the place down because it creates some headaches you never imagined!'
Walt: 'We've been through all kinds of things.... So more ups and downs and discomforts will be right up our alley...'
Fadeout: 'Okay, I gotta go back to my day job... Could I have a chaste brotherly hug?'
Walt, giving his occasionally vaguely visible new pal a good solid hug: There you go... And remember, lodging and food are provided free. We've made a lot of money on our Skunkville Saga scam.... And we need some fresh new storylines too, that we're hoping you unique guests will provide us.'
Walt reaches to give Fadeout a final embrace, but then he realizes the friendly weirdo has already vanished as if never there.... Whether rapidly and quietly on foot, or via some more sophisticated method, Walt isn't sure!
Walt, hurrying into the kitchen to 'goose' Edna, who then screams and spills the split pea & pear soop she was making right onto the front of Walt's favo-rite ('Right,' Walt nods, 'My Fav-O-RITE shirt... Or for that matter, my favorite back and sides and chest and arms combo all-purpose wear!'
Edna, sobbing a bit at her impulsive, expulsive (at least from the soop pot), repulsive behavior (if we look at the slo-mo, note the look of horror and disgust on Walt's terror-stricken dissenting face as he glacially backs away from the slightly more quickly descending, dully reflective, sluggish, greenish souperfall of split pea & pear soup onto .....................his......................... favorite.............. sports......... shirt.....!!!!!!
Walt: 'I got to get into dodge mode to get outa dodge
He says, slowly moving out of the reign of the pain that falls quickly in Spain (it was a Spanish Pea Soup brand, and as everyone knows, Spanish-crafted pea soup is the finest to be found on our globe.... At least on its surface, where the dull-brained, ultra-irradiated losers like us live. Not knowing that 'where it's really at', 'where things are 'really happenin'', is at the center of the earth, where all the smart, beautiful, healthy humarrhoids live, not like sand-blasted lizards on the sun-blasted, radioative surface of Earth (see handsome molepeople ruling at the Center of the Earth in Skunkville Saga episodes circa December 28, 2012 in Archive, just a click away on the word ARCHIVE (aka your free passport to ALL of the hundreds and hundreads of scintillating Skunkvile Saga episodes) on the popular swinger and clinger and winger and cringer hangout that is the Front Page of the Skunkville Saga Blog.
Ancient Fiddles waddles into the pitchen just as the souper blooper sequence begins to unfold, on the day before Help Your Pet Lose 30 Ounces in 30 Days Plan is about to begin for tired old 18 pound Fiddles.... Little does he know that the disgustingly warm slimy green slop will land next on his clamoring yapping indiganante' head
SPPPPPPUUUULLLLLLLLLATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!! Walt, who just initiated this toxic (given all the sodium in the pea soup) spill: 'Dxxx it to xxxx in a handmusket!!'
Fiddles: 'Grrrr it to grrrrrrrrrr in a dogrrr bisket!!'
Then Edna saves the day, rushing in with her mop and cleanup bucket, crying: 'Get out of the way, you old fools....
Walt, standing aside enough that Edna can squeeze into the Ground Zero area of the Spill: 'Edna... Be sure to note whether the soup spill has eaten away any of the surface on our linoleum tiles while you're down there, doing whatever you're doing!'
Edna, on her hands and knees with the bucket and a sponge, a mop leaning precariously against her side as well: 'What surface?? We can't even see any of the original sasparilla advertisement that used to enliven our kitchen floor...!'
Walt, rolling his head back to muse, hand cupping his chin, and now his eyes rolling back too...'Hmmmmmmm?'
Fiddles, maybe 5% of Walt's weight, who has regained his ability to talk 24/7 from their recent mystical experience in the Mexican pyramids South of the Border... 'Are you fainting, Pal? I'll position myself to soften your fall...'
Walt slowly falling straight backward as if he were a statue: 'Fiddles -- are you crazy?? I'll crush you to a dog-skin bag of crushed dog parts......'Now get out of the way RIGHT NOW!!!! LET ME TAKE THE HIT FOR ONCE....THIS IS MY FAULT.....NOT YERS........ T I M B ERrrrrrr!!'
'the wind rushing by me as I slowing fall backwards is actulallay givin' me a chill as I topple backwards from me fall that's nobuddy's fult bit mineys....'
EDNA & WALT'S CHARITY TO HOMELESS (AND MAYBE GREED FOR SOME QUICK ILLEGAL RENTAL MONEY*?) = DEADLY DANGER FOR BROWNS LIVING IN THEIR OWN BASEMENT?
* Walt Brown: 'Not true, pal... Rent is free; food is free, etc. But we do want our guests to make some effort to support each other...
Is this one the last few final culminating episodes of Skunkville, where everything which has preceded in the last 1.000+ episodes and 1.5 million words will now make perfect sense??
Edna: 'Walt, where in hxlls bells name did you ever dredge all of these super-weird losers?'
Creature #11: 'Agreed... The tough old female bird will be sacrificed first... before the foolish, too-good-natured, doddering codger!'
Walt, beseechingly, reaching out toward each of them one at a time as he does a slow, complete '360': 'C.mon...guys & dolls... Can't we just give LOVE and UNDERSTANDING a tiny little chance, a tiny little dance, a bitty little prance here??'
You see, it all began when Walt ran a fool-page ad in the little-read but highly under-rated, simply titled Skunkville Skink. Since he and Edna are becoming lonely with all their original friends and relatives passing away, and then even the 2nd/3rd/4th generation descendants of these original cronies 'going down'.... Not to the Hot Place necessarily, but just Down Under... Not to be buried in Australia necessarily, but their lifeless bodies removed from the sight of living humans just as a courtesy for several reasons, and in some cases a marker or even a grave sight available for those who want to 'catch up' with the deceased. But by 'catch up', we don't mean joining them in their current state or non-state, but to visit a place where there is a little area devoted to them, so that one can commune with their soul, if it still is lingering in the area as it sometime purportedly does.... Or at least visit a place that memorializes the person, whether they're actually 'haunting' or 'hanging near' their site, or whether they are no longer anywhere in the Universe, past or present, having moved on to some other, totally different spiritual residence.
And, as Walt and Edna were thinking about these heavy, respectful thoughts, they began to dwell on monstrous folks that have appeared now and then in Skunkville and other places -- many of them imagined for sure -- but others sited and documented so frequently -- like Santy Clause and the Eastern Bunny and the Valentine Fairy, and other more obscure visitors who may only visit a small group of 'friends', or maybe just a single person, kind of like their altar Eggo.
And then Walt began thinking about monsters, and how unloved they are as a group.... Like Frankenstein, for instance... Or The Cookie Monster, reviled particularly by sophisticates or people who hate cookies and/or sweets in general.
So Walt began to consider turning the basement of their little cottage -- now that they are empty-nesters, their children long ago moved away, if they ever had any, an issue on which they can't seem to reach a consistent consensus regarding number and identities, if any...But anyhow, considering all the unwanted ultra-strange people in the world.... A place for these misfits to live in peace with others of their same repulsiveness or strangeness or bad odor.
Walt and Edna decided to make this their project for 1987, still confused about what year it is, but finding that it is 2014 to be absolutely in-credible... As in disinformation spread collusively by all of the world's governments working in cahoots.
So they began running ads in some of the nation's leading newspapers, offering space in their refurbished full basement for people who have been too odd, too repulsive, too twisted, too smelly, too aggressive, or two passive, for ordinary living quarters,
And surprise, surprise!! They already have a number of these lost souls living in their basement just as planned. Please see the sidebar pictures for examples of their Motley Crew!!