DAILY MONSTER 193 (of 200)
Good morning. Another Friday is upon us, but not just any other Friday.
Today is the 25th of April and that means the Monster Book is now on sale in the UK.
I hope you’ll enjoy it!
This being Friday the 25th also means that we have exactly one week of Daily Monsters left. I hope you’ll stay tuned for the seven final creatures between now and then. If you’ve been thinking about posting a story, this really is the time to get in on the action. I’ve already noticed quite a few new names this week, as well as a number of returning champions, which is especially great! It certainly looks like you guys are having fun:
Right now, Monster 193 is ready for inspection:
If you’re reading this on my Amazon blog, please click here to see the video.
Now… I have to say that Monster 193 is one of the stranger creatures that’s come through. Or should that be “creatures”? Are we dealing with two distinct individuals? Or just one? Either way, there doesn’t seem to be unhappiness here. In fact, the vibe seems to be entirely one of excitement. What’s going on here? 193 cries for your illumination. I hope you’ll study the evidence and present your theory. If you have the time, please…
With a creature like this I’m especially curious
to see what stories you’ll come up with.
I hope you’re all set for a great weekend,
and that you’ll join me again tomorrow
for Monster 194 and for Monster 195 on Sunday.
Have I told you lately that 344 LOVES YOU
(I am french and this is my first comment in english, sorry for the future spelling mistakes)
We are in spring, the season of love so it seems to be the great time to meet people and talk in total friendship! Those two little strange birds have probably understand the magic of spring and are singing together “Rââââh Lovely!” like in the french comics (yes sometimes we speak in english for fun, we have a strange sens of humour)
Maybe there are childs who read this blog so I won’t go into details.
Watch animal documentary if you want more.
–excerpted from the entry on Birdmonsters
Scissorheads: These birdmonsters, which resemble a larger, and toothed, version of the hummingbird, are flightless. Their cry is “sharpsharpsharp!”
They are not, however, all that sharp–tests have shown they CAN fly, but prefer to ride each other piggyback.
Mister Hummingbird and wife are presenting their symbiotic flying dance show. It’s a very amazing performance. Wow! These narrow wings, this wonderful vibration and a special pleasure for all of the spectators is this deeply moving humming sound.
It wasn’t long before Herman realised the voice keeping him awake at night wasn’t just his guilty conscience …
Who knew that monsterbirds could give piggyback rides?
and we wonder why all the bees are disapearing? Here is BeeLow and AhBuv out for a bee hunting expedition. That lizard like tongue of BeeLow’s catches them on the fly (so to speak), flips them up to AhBuv who finishes them off. The question now is, how many of these most interesting monsters are out there? I think the dwindling numbers of bees speaks to that quite nicely.
Alvin was out for a stroll as he happened to walk right into a purple puddle. It looked strange to him but he was curious and decided to put his face closer to it. As he got closer he noticed it smelled sweet. Being the adventurous monster that he is, he figured that he would see how it tasted. Sticking out his big blue tongue, he found it rather sour. A minute later, he felt a strange rumbling in his back and out emerged a head just like his own. Little did he know, it would soon become his best friend and worst enemy.
….there’s a delicate line between ice fishing and trolling for gators, but these tonsil toothsomes…”Tooth and Nail” with all their vigor and fury, ran into more than vertebrate…”Tooth” with a tongue like a strip of leather under the lacing of an old boot that kind of gave him a speech impediment (a tongue twisted)..and “Nail”…well, he just never could speak freely..and if that wasn’t enough daily drama for them as they were slipping and sliding on the slimy goop of a lake looking for grub….they saw it….yup…the Loch Ness Monster…Have Mercy! Well…. that induced their voice to a forced falsetto and their feathers to fuzz…what makes it even worse…like.. who would believe them anyway…
Mother Hummingbird watched the big, white flowers pile up across the clearing, making the small stems of the plants bend softly. The scent was alluring. Dozens of bees nestled their small bodies into the plant, becoming pollinized with the yellow powder she also craved. Damnit. The chick couldn’t fly that well yet. She was sure it would fall down to the ground like a stone when it started to move its little wings.
What’s a mother, especially a hungry one going to do? She began to ponder, her eyes moving to and fro between her chick and those tantalizingly smelling flowers… It was no use, she was as hungry as a hummingbird could be. If she wouldn’t get her food now, the little one could lose his mother.
She stared at the little ball of fluff next to her until she got her attention. A few shrill chirps later it cocked its head in curiosity, yet it began to carefully climb up her back and clawed into her feathers. It would be quite strenuous to fly across the clearing, given the extra weight on her back. But it would be worth it and she would get to the food, no matter what.
The flowers swayed seductively in a small breeze that had come up. Mother Hummingbird took focus on the plants and jumped into the air.
Barry was well known around the neighborhood as the double-headed, blue-tongued, funny-bird who just wanted to make everybody laugh. He would come into parties he wasn’t invited to, just to tell a joke – and after the crowd roared with laughter, he’d smile and walk away with a great sense of self-satisfaction.
It was Barry’s true joy in life to bring smiles to other people, and so, he made it his vocation. Barry started the first and only Laugh-a-torium in Birdsville, Illinois, and they would flock* from near and far to hear his always funny, always original jokes.
The ones who knew him locally, would frequent the Laugh-a-torium and request his very first joke. WIth two great big smiles he would say, “Hey, what has two heads, a blue tongue, and laughs a lot?” He would say, “Me!” and the crowd would burst into laughter for at least 4 or 5 minutes.
*okay, flock was said with pun intended. 🙂
Benny: HAAAAY! Will you get off my back Bob? You made us late for the bus!
Bob: WEEEEEEEEHEHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE WEEEEEEE! I’m flyin, I’m flyin!
Benny: Will you cut that out! Your going to make us fall.
Bob: But Benny, I’m flyin. Aintcha never seen a boid fly like this before, I say, say, Aintcha never seen a boid do that?
Benny: Oh look there the bus! Hurry and we can catch it.
*Benny and Bob run, but the bus pulls away before they can get on.*
Bob: WEEEEEEEE! I’m flyin Benny!
Benny: Oh! You coot we can’t fly!
Bob: Dats cuz you never believed!
Tavish and Tomos were inseparable as they grew up. They’d pile on each others’ shoulders and thrash around the house like loons. Tomos would mock Tavish, and vice versa. It was at its worst though, when the boys would watch baseball. Lord help me if the Orioles or Cardinals lost. It got pretty quite when they both went off to college. They chose the same school; Illinois State, home of the Redbirds. I figured they’d follow each other there. You know what they say; birds of a feather…
Azaf was being grilled on national tv.
“Why did you do it?”
“How could you sacrifice your body to this scientific experiment?”
“What did you think would happen when you said yes to having that body part grafted onto your back?”
Azaf was thoughtful. He contemplated all the questions from the interviewer, then calmly answered: “I thought it was a good way to get ahead.”
Two Crow Heads’ second head had been conceived upon the almost sexual excitement he felt on eating his first tasty squirrel on the side of County Road B2, just two minutes previously. The second head had simply popped into being, and the two heads shared a simple yet ecstatic dance. For the first time Two Crow Heads shared a reciprocal family love, certainly more than he’d shared with the literal and metaphorical smothering ass of his now dead mother.
Scooter stared stupidly at Two Crow Heads from his hiding hole in the bushes by the side of the road. Scooter was too old to be called Scooter and had only one tooth, yellow with rot, but he knew how to shoot a BB, like the one he now shot through the older head of Two Crow Heads. The shattered skull fell to the side, and Two Crow Heads staggered about the road, confused at a world too new for its one functioning brain.
Scooter, now bored, stepped from the bushes and walked west on County Road B2, followed by Two Crow Heads, who did not know exactly who or what this tall, pale creature was but named it Mommy for want of a more seasoned imagination.
It was a normal day for Tweeter, as he woke from his nest and chirped at the bright new day. Hopping from his perch, he flapped his wings a few times and glided down to the branch below. As he stood there singing, he noticed that there was a slight difference in the air, but he disregarded it as he went out to look for food.
A little while later, Tweeter noticed that he was feeling tired, and decided to have a nap in his nest. He did not realize that some of his down feathers were slipping away into the wind, and spiky fur was beginning to grow…
Later that night, when Tweeter woke up, he felt a strange lump on his back. Suddenly, he cried out in pain as his beak began to stretch forward. The rest of the night was spent whimpering in pain and occasionally letting out a loud shriek.
By morning, the bird had changed completely. There was a new form on it. Not an enemy, but a commander. It paused only for a moment to listen to the strange orders of the form. However, it disregarded its uneasiness, and flew off to find its first human meal.
The breeze was light across the skin. The sun — a heavenly mix of warm temperature and succulent light. Laying there without a care in the world, Rose gazed upward to study the clouds floating wistfully by.
And then she heard it. The low roar of the beating wings, slapping the air, keeping the behemoth in the air. It’s twin heads ready to violate the unsuspecting out in open ground. Rose looked everywhere but couldn’t see the demon flyer. The droning hum grew louder each second. She tried to remember the words of her neighbors much older and wiser, “When they come, you must remember to…” but her memory failed her horribly. Panic had seeped in and proven its might over her thoughts.
The sun was blotted out as it descended upon her. The lashing tongue of the sub-prime ready to sup on Rose’s delicate insides while the prime flyer stood guard to protect with its quick teeth. It hovered momentarily before darting sharply towards her. The words entered her conscious just as this grotesque hummingbird began to drink, “…fold in your petals. They will only take the nectar from those that are open.”
Triana was plagued by her demons. She often walked around in circles, mumbling to herself about how she should have done this or shouldn’t have done that. She found herself constantly second guessing her every action or lack of action. One night, at a time when the sun begins to wake and the moon begins to slumber as they share the same bed of a sky, she began to choke on her own indecisiveness. With her feet spread apart and her hands to her back, she coughed, hacked, and wheezed until her eyes begin to shut themselves from the painful force that seemed to derive from her very core. A creature began to form on her back. Triana’s alter-ego she never knew existed was beginning to take over her body. His name was Trinity and he was ready to greet the world. One look in his eyes and you could tell that he was wild, rich with life and short on experience. He wanted more than what Triana was giving him so he had to take it. His gains were her loss as he began to overwhelm her body with his conscious. For a split second, they completely understood one another, the very thing anybody ever wants, they had. Yet, Trinity, now the stronger of the two, would not share his body/conscious with another and so he pushed her deep down into his core and locked her away forever. He melted the key and fashioned it into an earring which he always wore. Not for sentimental value but rather, a symbol to remind him that he was in control.
Eunice the Ichthyosaur had gone in a blink from swimming about in the rich and warm oceans of prehistory to flailing about against a cold flat surface with limbs not truly of her own. Someone cackled.
She had felt someone trying to protect themselves with her own body. She gasped for water and felt her throat and gills burn with pain! This was not water, but a dry and burning panicked exchange of wrong! She felt her tongue become compressed and harden into a point.
She was choking!
Something was jostling around on her dorsalfin, huge and weighty. It sighed with a slow moan, then slumped its mass to the floor in an afterthought not worthy of contemplation , for she was gasping for water, and dying.
A voice said ‘STASIS!’, and Eunice froze.
“No, no, NO! Reigh-gorr, this will NEVER do! A prehistoric fish temporally grafted with a giraffe’s head? What kind of science are we trying to accomplish?”
“Four score and seven years ago, our fore..”
“…We hold these truths to be self-evident..”
“Shut it up!”, the doctor screamed as he stepped into the light, now showing his temporal accident in gruesome, yet historic, detail. Lincoln’s beard had taken over most of his upper chest and arm, and the old boy was swiveling about to see the commotion’s interest to no avail.
Time, it seemed, was not kind to him either.