Awaking to the clang of his cell door opening, Rasputin was greeted with the welcome words, we found a receipt from AC Moore which proves it was a frame. They are letting you go.
The good news ceased when Rasputin opened the envelope containing his belongings, "Where is my invasion plan?" he asked.
The clerk looked at a list and with a bored voice which had taken twenty three years to perfect said, "Not listed here."
Sensing that arguing would be futile, Rasputin left the police station, bought a large bottle of gin, across the street, and wandered until he found a public library where he commandeered a computer a...nd told a librarian who was trying to be helpful, "Someday this table will be in the Smithsonian."
The librarian who had her own bottles of gin secreted in the stacks, nodded. She too had her fantasies and, despite his rather scruffy appearance, this rabbit had a strangely attractive something that kept her from asking if he had a library card.
At home Rasputin had a specially designed keyboard designed to accommoda...te his paws, here he made do with a lot of typos.
From a server deep in Eastern Europe Rasputin unleashed an elite group of Nigerian bankers, who, with a special script, befriended everybody on facebook Then with data purchased from ROTFL Associated he misdirected lurid email to those rated most susceptible and automatically logged them into "The Farmers Daughter", a ...website which had been made to look like Farmville, except it wasn't fields that were being plowed.
The librarian, a woman who built walls of books to keep the world at bay, looked over Rasputin's shoulder and was intrigued as he pushed a teenage girl away from the computer next to his and called up Farmville Cam which showed a seemingly uneventful day, Uneventful until one noticed the armored tractors driving up and... down the roads, patrolling the fields of grass he had planted.
It took Rasputin a second to understand what he was seeing, in the short time he'd spent in dalliance as an admiral had given drug cartels time to move in to farmville. "there goes the neighborhood," he thought realizing that it was a good thing he'd misplaced his invasion plan. He was, he knew going to have to adlib like never before.
There was only one force greater than the drug cartels, and that was their mothers. Rasputin called up his specially designed search engine, and thanking Facebook for its recent addition of specialized groups, he began an ad campaign designed to attract this set of users. Unfortunately they were all distracted havin...g been a primary target of the Nigerian bankers he had just unleashed.
Rasputin had not adequately covered his tracks and his ad campaign got
him a hundred emails promising everything from defenestration to
decapitation.
And he knew that once again defeat had been projectile vomited from the mouth of bulimic victory.
Just when things seemed hopeless the librarian tapped him on the shoulder. "It's my lunch hour, would you like to go to a juice bar?"
Wondering if she would get turned on by the dewey decimal system, Rasputin logged off the computer, but not before taking note of an upcoming convention of Napoleon Re-enactors. "Your n...ame isn't Josephine by any chance," he asked?
This was not the first time Rasputin had drunk himself through a lunch hour and missed a significant appointment, but for once it was fortuitous, because the invasion path was squarely in a cross fire between the cartel and the DEA which had been keeping an eye on facebook since the phrase invasion of privacy was invented.
When he awoke, Rasputin opened his eye to behold another, smaller, eye an inch form his. Fearing the DTs he asked, "Who are you?" not at all sure he wanted an answer, or what one would mean.
A surprisingly bass voice responded, "We have come to help with the invasion, would you like to see some references?"
BBC - Earth News - Cane toads are evolving into super-invaders
news.bbc.co.uk http://news.bbc.co.uk/earth/hi/earth_news/newsid_9096000/9096795.stm
The cane toads had a propensity for stealing motorcycles, and wore little leather vests with "Bad Toad" embroidered on it. Their idea of helping with the invasion was taking over, though they threw Rasputin a bone and told him he could be 'spokes-rabbit'. Rasputin's displeasure was muted by his new found relationshi...p with the librarian whose taste in historical re-enactment featured Catherine the Great.
When Rasputin protested to the toads that the invasion had been his idea, one of them said to him, "lick me." Rasputin who was still coming down from an acid trip which had encompassed five continents and two oceans kept his tongue in his mouth. Instead, he returned to the librarian seeking solace only to find her dre...ssed in jodhpurs.
"It's not what you think it is," she said as she laid the riding crop down.
Rasputin's mind was so addled he had no idea what he was thinking. After a long pause he said, "Need more drugs."
The librarian, who long ago had given up on men, scowled, remembering exactly why she had come to this conclusion. Still, she wasn't ready to give up, Rasputin was the closest thing to a sentient companion... she had met in quite a while. Besides, she liked the idea of playing dress-up with Napoleon.
Dispatches from Farmville reported the toads were swiftly consolidating their hop to power. An elite team was working with the programmers, and they were on the verge of unleashing a beta version which would force all the residents of farmville to eat bugs and worms as a part of their daily routine. Rasputin realized... this was good time to stay in the background, and went onto ebay looking for Napoleon accessories
The librarian, who had changed her name to Catherine when she was twenty three, was not in the least bothered by historical inconsistencies. Her experiences with men were such that she was glad to be rid of the species. She was a little concerned though about the prospect of bringing Rasputin to Thanksgiving dinner at her mother's.
Catherine's mother, who was so liberal she had lesbian leanings, immediately got out her old edition of the Joy of Cooking when her daughter broached the subject of bringing a rabbit to Thanksgiving. This was just one more complication for what was a difficult holiday at best - for a number of often dramatic reasons.
Rasputin, for whom Thanksgiving had always been a holiday of misgivings and misanthropy, realized that the invite meant that Catherine envisioned the relationship would last at least 30 days. He hadn't maintained a relationship for that long since his last stretch in county jail.
Reports from Farmville indicated that the cartels were resorting to a ruthless campaign to crush the cane toads with a heavy application of steam rollers. Unfortunately this made the roads so slick with yuck the denizens of Farmville were forced to stay home, and, in doing so, they discovered a new computer game whic...h involved going to a virtual nude beach and spending the day ogling each others imaginary bodies.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
Rasputin regains his edge.- installments added chapter ended?
As the battleship closed in on the cruise ship, the radio came alive with questions about intentions. Rasputin, who knew the food on the cruise ship would be better than what he could come up with in the abandoned galley below, asked if he could join them for dinner. He offered to bring a red wine he'd discovered in the hold.
Unbeknown to Rasputin, the cruise ship was hosting a voyage of vegan hedonists who immediately saw in him the leader they had been searching for. When the party got really going and the asparagus was being put to multiple uses they called on him to share his vision.
Rasputin, who realized this crowd was just the sort needed to spice up farmville, stood and spoke of a utopia where the farm animals would not only NOT be eaten, but would be honored members of the community. His speech was cut short when the Captain informed him that he should return to his battleship because another vessel had been spotted, a ship flying a flag the captain had never seen before.
Who would have thought that hedonistic vegans would be so turned on by a battleship, Rasputin mused, as he turned the ship to face the oncoming enemy which turned out to be a coalition of militant carnivores and fanatic gardeners. For many of his volunteer crew this was a holy mission. As they armed the guns they sang Strawberry Fields Forever.
The carnivores opened with a salvo of big macs and then strafed with kilbasa. The gardeners, who objected to the lily salads popular with the more artistic vegans,sent forth a load of compost most ripe.
The vegans were having trouble calculating the angles to bring the guns to bear as the luddite faction among them ...had 'set the computers free.' Things did not look good for the admiral.
It was clear that the only escape possible would be through the use of drugs and alcohol. This was a technique with which Rasputin was quite accomplished. He had been saving a mega hit of what was reported to be a chemical clone of Sandoz acid for just such an eventuality.
It was an interesting trip - note new picture of our hero.
It was a powerful hit of acid, for a while Rasputin's persona became confused with Christopher, an anti Pope from 903-904. He was not certain if this was a past life or simply a confusion of spirits. After this episode passed Rasputin discovered his inner dog which unfortunately chased him around for an ugly twenty minutes.
Eventually the inner dog tired and went off to sniff a fire hydrant giving Rasputin time to get into another frame of mind. This time he chose an ornate goldleaf.
The ready made frame proved to be an irresistible opportunity for Cheryl Langley, an assistant district attorney with a smoldering ambition for elected office. Before he was fully down, Rasputin was arrested and under interrogation for most of the unsolved crimes in Carroll County. This was not a groovy way to end an... acid trip, Rasputin protested, as he offered to sign Cheryl's petition to get on the ballot.
"If only you were a republican," Cheryl said. "besides, as a convicted felon you'll lose your vote."
"But I'm a member of the carrot party - it's like the tea party, but better for you." Rasputin knew he was grasping for straws, but maybe he'd find the one that took out the camel.
Having shown enough of her softer sid...e, the ambitious ADA said, "You know where you can stick your carrot."
Rasputin who had been known to swing in many directions, some simultaneously, was no stranger to vegetable sex; still this interrogation, even though lengthy, had to be considered a first date. Naked frolic which included vegetables, no matter how nubile the eggplant, was not something he did without knowing all the p...articipants well. After all, he did have some standards.
Still, he sensed there was more than a casual insult in Cheryl's remarks and wondered if this might lead to a rapprochement with her, and more importantly getting him out of this jail. After all his invasion was scheduled soon, and once he again knew what day it was, he would know exactly how soon.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Chapter 6 but who's counting?
In a move that dazzled even himself, Rasputin transferred the 'Fleas of Jesus' to a woman named Joan, another fictional character who was better equipped to assist them in their mission. With the invasion less than a month away Rasputin set up a command center in the remains of what had once been a movie theater located in downtown Farmville.
The theater, once named the Bijou, had been built in downtown Farmville in 1928. Over the years it had been a movie theater, an Elks Lodge, a movie theater again this time playing x rated films at midnight (with usherettes who wore pasties and g-strings) and finally a bingo parlor. Abandoned for eight years it had be...en inhabited by a family of raccoons who negotiated to keep the balcony when Rasputin moved in.
Vowing to get the revolution back on schedule, Rasputin dressed up in his band leader's uniform only to realize that the supplier had mislabeled the package and that he was now an admiral in the Italian Navy. Even worse, the sailor's suits were cute, and well cut, but not appropriate for brass instruments.
The Admirals uniform fit as though it had been tailored for Rasputin, though there was a bit of trouble with the hat That was to be expected though, and a couple of holes could accommodate his ears. For a few minutes he imagined himself of the bridge of his flagship cruising the Med. It could be a grand life, perhap...s better even than the headaches which would come once he assumed the throne of Farmville.
Being an admiral had its perks, though the residents of farmville were a little slow to salute. This caused Rasputin to spend a little time contemplating which gestures acknowledging his rank and power he would like to instill in his subjects. The single finger would be easiest but was not at all what he had in mind,... the kowtow was a little too extreme except when he was especially beneficent.
Being an admiral had its downside too Rasputin discovered when he was informed that Italy was on the verge of a war with Albania over fishing rights and other issues which had been simmering for eight hundred years, and that he was expected to take his ship into the middle of a minefield to show that they would not be intimidated.
"There has been a mistake," he said.
"No mistake," said his adjutant who ushered him to the bridge of a battleship which was suspiciously devoid of sailors.
Alone on the bridge of a battleship headed for a minefield, Rasputin tried to alter course, but found the rudder locked. In an attempt to stave off panic he ran in circles until he bumped the engine controls and discovered that be could control course by reversing one of the engines.Though a cumbersome way to steer a ship, he had a large body of water to experiment in and decided he would attempt to bring the massive warship back to farmville to support his revolution.
The list of things Rasputin didn't know about battleships, the ocean, and navigation would put a strain on the servers at Wikipedia. The gps would not take Farmville as a destination. Eventually he spotted a cruise ship on the horizon and decided to follow it. Now knowing where he was going, Rasputin went below to look for the wine cellar.
Unfortunately the battleship was faster than the cruise ship and the distance between them narrowed rapidly.
The theater, once named the Bijou, had been built in downtown Farmville in 1928. Over the years it had been a movie theater, an Elks Lodge, a movie theater again this time playing x rated films at midnight (with usherettes who wore pasties and g-strings) and finally a bingo parlor. Abandoned for eight years it had be...en inhabited by a family of raccoons who negotiated to keep the balcony when Rasputin moved in.
Vowing to get the revolution back on schedule, Rasputin dressed up in his band leader's uniform only to realize that the supplier had mislabeled the package and that he was now an admiral in the Italian Navy. Even worse, the sailor's suits were cute, and well cut, but not appropriate for brass instruments.
The Admirals uniform fit as though it had been tailored for Rasputin, though there was a bit of trouble with the hat That was to be expected though, and a couple of holes could accommodate his ears. For a few minutes he imagined himself of the bridge of his flagship cruising the Med. It could be a grand life, perhap...s better even than the headaches which would come once he assumed the throne of Farmville.
Being an admiral had its perks, though the residents of farmville were a little slow to salute. This caused Rasputin to spend a little time contemplating which gestures acknowledging his rank and power he would like to instill in his subjects. The single finger would be easiest but was not at all what he had in mind,... the kowtow was a little too extreme except when he was especially beneficent.
Being an admiral had its downside too Rasputin discovered when he was informed that Italy was on the verge of a war with Albania over fishing rights and other issues which had been simmering for eight hundred years, and that he was expected to take his ship into the middle of a minefield to show that they would not be intimidated.
"There has been a mistake," he said.
"No mistake," said his adjutant who ushered him to the bridge of a battleship which was suspiciously devoid of sailors.
Alone on the bridge of a battleship headed for a minefield, Rasputin tried to alter course, but found the rudder locked. In an attempt to stave off panic he ran in circles until he bumped the engine controls and discovered that be could control course by reversing one of the engines.Though a cumbersome way to steer a ship, he had a large body of water to experiment in and decided he would attempt to bring the massive warship back to farmville to support his revolution.
The list of things Rasputin didn't know about battleships, the ocean, and navigation would put a strain on the servers at Wikipedia. The gps would not take Farmville as a destination. Eventually he spotted a cruise ship on the horizon and decided to follow it. Now knowing where he was going, Rasputin went below to look for the wine cellar.
Unfortunately the battleship was faster than the cruise ship and the distance between them narrowed rapidly.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Uh oh
Rasputin may have just given me the starting point for a new novel. This is a good thing, but I feel the tides of weirdness pulling strongly. I am not sure where this is going but it sounds like a lot of fun.
Joan loved her cats. She had six, unless one counted the three mostly wild cats who came to the patio in her garden apartment for food on a moderately regular basis. It was one of these cats, probably the yellow tom she called "Scrapper" who brought the fleas which were to transform her life.
To The Mc Millian Literary Agency:
I know this sounds crazy, and my therapist is concerned too if that is of any consolation to you, but please read on. It all started when one of "my" cats (I use the quotes because you can not really posses a cat - if anything it is the reverse) came home with what I initially called an infestation of fleas. Again, I know this sounds crazy, but these fleas are the direct descendants of a flea who inhabited Jesus' beard, and they have a truly lost Gospel which they want me to share.
Joan loved her cats. She had six, unless one counted the three mostly wild cats who came to the patio in her garden apartment for food on a moderately regular basis. It was one of these cats, probably the yellow tom she called "Scrapper" who brought the fleas which were to transform her life.
To The Mc Millian Literary Agency:
I know this sounds crazy, and my therapist is concerned too if that is of any consolation to you, but please read on. It all started when one of "my" cats (I use the quotes because you can not really posses a cat - if anything it is the reverse) came home with what I initially called an infestation of fleas. Again, I know this sounds crazy, but these fleas are the direct descendants of a flea who inhabited Jesus' beard, and they have a truly lost Gospel which they want me to share.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Chapter 5 -completed.
The giant cargo plane was filled with seedlings - phragmities. loosestrife, kudzu, and rambler rose. One large section was curtained off. Rasputin, on whom the
flight suit was several sizes too big, sat on a jumpseat behind the pilot who was trying to find Farmville on his charts.
The second officer, a woman who had clearly seen her share of government issue strangeness, offered Rasputin some ear protectors which clearly would not work for him, and shrugged when he passed them back to her. "The parachute is the bigger problematic for you anyway."
Rasputin who had never heard that word used as a noun wondered if pointing out a grammatical oddity would enhance his chances of survival.
As the crew member called the "drop officer" explained the procedure, Rasputin regretted the clause in his will that specified that his ashes be dispersed from a plane. It seemed redundant, but before he could call his lawyer the big door in the back of the plane opened and large bundles of loose strife were being positioned for the first run. Looking out the window he saw the just plowed fields of Farmville .
"Remember it's not the falling that hurts, it's the sudden stop," Those words shouted over the roar of the passing slipstream did little to help Rasputin keep calm. He wished the plastic surgeon had enhanced his ears, enough that they would provide lift and enable him to glide to earth. He figured they would need be seven feet long, then a strong large hand gripped him. "What about the parachute," he shouted?
The drop master shouted, " we don't have one in your size. The good news is we're flying at fifty feet so the plants will take, just stay in the moment."
An instant later Rasputin was very much in the moment as he was launched with a large bale of rambler rose.
In his autobiography Rasputin thanks Tolle for giving him the presence of mind to realize that this was in actuality, a briar patch. In the four seconds before impact he wormed his way into the center of the bush and grabbed his foot for luck.
While plummeting to earth, as he grabbed his lucky rabbits foot, the left hind one, Rasputin was struck with the notion that this might be his last opportunity to kiss his ass goodbye. There was no time to think this through, the rambler rose struck a muddy patch and in an instant Rasputin was ejected and slid for
fifty yards ending up in a shallow pond as other plants landed around him.
This was not the dignified return Rasputin had fantasied and planned. In some ways it fit though, his farewell speech had been, "I've been thrown out of better places than this..."
The immersion in the pond cleaned most of the mud off, so when he emerged to find a small crowd assembled, he was able to feel presentable.
The residents of farmville were not happy at the rain of invasive species, but as they muttered, the giant plane made a second pass this time releasing the cargo which had been hidden behind the curtain.
In an instant farmville became the largest pot farm outside of Northern California and Rasputin realized that they might have to rework the score 76 Trombones would become 76 lead guitars. The goofy uniforms would work though.
Rasputin, back in a new stoned version of farmville, sent word back to his invasion force, "bring munchies." As a young rabbit he had sent some time on the fields of the USMA at West Point and knew that it was an innovative commander, able to make use of unexpected turns, who was often victorious. The only problem was that the fields of ganja planted were of exceptionally high quality.
The resistance, a small band of feral chickens who had escaped the knights of columbus bbq, was trying to burn the fields with predictable results. But the plumes of smoke which wafted in were enough to make him want to defer decisions and watch cartoons.
Unfortunately for Rasputin grass was a gateway drug. Will the rabbit revert to his junkie ways, hock the band instruments, and forsake the revolution?
Posted a link to The Velvet Underground - Heroin (song only) www.youtube.com
"Never, never buy drugs from a goat." Rasputin screamed, as he realized he'd been burned. He kicked himself with both feet, once for being so stupid to buy talcum powder in a little plastic bag, and again for having come so close to forgoing his destiny and nodding out when he should have been leading the revolution.... He consoled himself with the thought that goat stew would be served at his inaugural ball.
Rasputin set up his command post in the abandoned grain elevator at the edge of town. Unfortunately some of the left over wheat in one of the bins had developed a fungus which when inhaled had an effect similar to LSD.
When you add messianic to megalomaniac, you get an ego about the size of Massachusetts, and this mi...ght have been a hindrance were it not for Rasputin's sense of timing.
As the sun rose Rasputin stepped out onto the top of the grain elevator where, backlit by the sun, he proclaimed himself Lapin of God and in possession of a revised set of commandments.
The residents of farmville, still stoned from the brownies eaten the night before, had a "FAR OUT" moment.
After descending from his hallucinogenic heights, Rasputin knew he had promised more than he could deliver especially because he had only a piece of cardboard
and a worn out magic marker that left streaks. A revised set of commandments was going to take a bit more than that. He'd asked his friends for suggestions and
gotten none.
As he started his research he found there were conflicting versions of the commandments in the Bible. "It's about time someone fixed this," he said. "This time
I'll keep it simple."
"Not so fast!" the voice loud, deep and booming startled... him so that he fell off his chair.
Could the Acid be rebounding, he wondered? Or was he, as he had always suspected, the anointed rabbit?
"God, is that you?" Rasputin asked, not sure he wanted an answer either way.
"Not the Easter Bunny," came the response, and Rasputin whose Higher Power was known for being enigmatic as well as having a sense of humor, was glad. Hearing
from God was better than hallucinations coming from what his therapist called his tw...isted inner rabbit.
And he figured so long as God was not communicating via lightning bolts or heart attacks he was doing ok.
"Don't take this personally my little lapin, but rewriting the scriptures is not the job I had in mind for you."
Again Rasputin was glad..., the project had been daunting even to his megalomaniacal side and he had been worried about the pressure various special interest
groups would bring to bear.
"However, I agree that Farmville needs a bit of revision. Before I bring forth a new flood, (this time it will be electrons) you will go forth as my emissary.
You will be given visions. Try not to warp them to fit with your own desires." With that there was a slight click as God disconnected, but behind was left an
enormous towering cloud in the exact image of Rasputin brilliant and alone in an otherwise clear sky.
Rasputin considered his ego to be a God given asset. This logic allowed him to feed it steroids and otherwise expand it. It was what allowed him to proclaim
his divine inspiration and mandate. This, in turn, got the attention of a busload of pilgrims who were on their way to a shrine dedicated to Our Lady of
Miraculous Bargains in a discount mall in the country next to Farmville, Shopper City.
Their affection was short lived when the pilgrims discovered Rasputin could not produce the discount coupons they craved. They pummeled him with their shopping
bags, which fortunately were empty and shouted "charlatan" as he fled into a marshy field beside the road.
Having escaped the band of pilgrims Rasputin was standing in a field considering he next move when he heard a diminutive chorus which shouted, "yea" this was
followed by a single voice, "I've got behind the ears." and in a second our hero could truly speak in the plural as he was invaded by a gang of fleas who were
waring little leather vests on which was embroidered the words "Plagues R us"
Rasputin, who knew from bitter experience there was no negotiating with fleas, was preparing to throw himself in a swiftly flowing river in the desperate hope
this infestation had left their water wings at home when the flea who had taken station behind his ears said, "This revolution thing, we've got some
suggestions."
Rasputin, who had never met a flea he hadn't scratched, was disturbed on several accounts, not the least of which was having to share the spoils of victory
with a species that reproduced faster than he could.
Massive doses of anti-histamines kept the itching under control and Rasputin would have slept a lot were it not for the fact that his fleas had choral
ambitions. Their repertoire ranged from Mozart to spirituals. They had a version of Jesus loves me with a verse which made reference to their ancestors who had
lived in His beard. The theological implications of this gave Rasputin a headache.
The congregation of fleas with a direct linage to the sainted flea who had lived in Jesus' beard had a version of the Gospel which had not been included in the
familiar texts. They had, they told Rasputin, decided that they were willing to reveal its secrets and asked Rasputin to get them an agent.
Rasputin, whose experiences with literary agents had consisted almost entirely of rejections, was reluctant to make any promises, but agreed to write query
letters the minute he got to an internet cafe. "Unforutnately," he said, "I've got this invasion of Farmville to orchestrate."
flight suit was several sizes too big, sat on a jumpseat behind the pilot who was trying to find Farmville on his charts.
The second officer, a woman who had clearly seen her share of government issue strangeness, offered Rasputin some ear protectors which clearly would not work for him, and shrugged when he passed them back to her. "The parachute is the bigger problematic for you anyway."
Rasputin who had never heard that word used as a noun wondered if pointing out a grammatical oddity would enhance his chances of survival.
As the crew member called the "drop officer" explained the procedure, Rasputin regretted the clause in his will that specified that his ashes be dispersed from a plane. It seemed redundant, but before he could call his lawyer the big door in the back of the plane opened and large bundles of loose strife were being positioned for the first run. Looking out the window he saw the just plowed fields of Farmville .
"Remember it's not the falling that hurts, it's the sudden stop," Those words shouted over the roar of the passing slipstream did little to help Rasputin keep calm. He wished the plastic surgeon had enhanced his ears, enough that they would provide lift and enable him to glide to earth. He figured they would need be seven feet long, then a strong large hand gripped him. "What about the parachute," he shouted?
The drop master shouted, " we don't have one in your size. The good news is we're flying at fifty feet so the plants will take, just stay in the moment."
An instant later Rasputin was very much in the moment as he was launched with a large bale of rambler rose.
In his autobiography Rasputin thanks Tolle for giving him the presence of mind to realize that this was in actuality, a briar patch. In the four seconds before impact he wormed his way into the center of the bush and grabbed his foot for luck.
While plummeting to earth, as he grabbed his lucky rabbits foot, the left hind one, Rasputin was struck with the notion that this might be his last opportunity to kiss his ass goodbye. There was no time to think this through, the rambler rose struck a muddy patch and in an instant Rasputin was ejected and slid for
fifty yards ending up in a shallow pond as other plants landed around him.
This was not the dignified return Rasputin had fantasied and planned. In some ways it fit though, his farewell speech had been, "I've been thrown out of better places than this..."
The immersion in the pond cleaned most of the mud off, so when he emerged to find a small crowd assembled, he was able to feel presentable.
The residents of farmville were not happy at the rain of invasive species, but as they muttered, the giant plane made a second pass this time releasing the cargo which had been hidden behind the curtain.
In an instant farmville became the largest pot farm outside of Northern California and Rasputin realized that they might have to rework the score 76 Trombones would become 76 lead guitars. The goofy uniforms would work though.
Rasputin, back in a new stoned version of farmville, sent word back to his invasion force, "bring munchies." As a young rabbit he had sent some time on the fields of the USMA at West Point and knew that it was an innovative commander, able to make use of unexpected turns, who was often victorious. The only problem was that the fields of ganja planted were of exceptionally high quality.
The resistance, a small band of feral chickens who had escaped the knights of columbus bbq, was trying to burn the fields with predictable results. But the plumes of smoke which wafted in were enough to make him want to defer decisions and watch cartoons.
Unfortunately for Rasputin grass was a gateway drug. Will the rabbit revert to his junkie ways, hock the band instruments, and forsake the revolution?
Posted a link to The Velvet Underground - Heroin (song only) www.youtube.com
"Never, never buy drugs from a goat." Rasputin screamed, as he realized he'd been burned. He kicked himself with both feet, once for being so stupid to buy talcum powder in a little plastic bag, and again for having come so close to forgoing his destiny and nodding out when he should have been leading the revolution.... He consoled himself with the thought that goat stew would be served at his inaugural ball.
Rasputin set up his command post in the abandoned grain elevator at the edge of town. Unfortunately some of the left over wheat in one of the bins had developed a fungus which when inhaled had an effect similar to LSD.
When you add messianic to megalomaniac, you get an ego about the size of Massachusetts, and this mi...ght have been a hindrance were it not for Rasputin's sense of timing.
As the sun rose Rasputin stepped out onto the top of the grain elevator where, backlit by the sun, he proclaimed himself Lapin of God and in possession of a revised set of commandments.
The residents of farmville, still stoned from the brownies eaten the night before, had a "FAR OUT" moment.
After descending from his hallucinogenic heights, Rasputin knew he had promised more than he could deliver especially because he had only a piece of cardboard
and a worn out magic marker that left streaks. A revised set of commandments was going to take a bit more than that. He'd asked his friends for suggestions and
gotten none.
As he started his research he found there were conflicting versions of the commandments in the Bible. "It's about time someone fixed this," he said. "This time
I'll keep it simple."
"Not so fast!" the voice loud, deep and booming startled... him so that he fell off his chair.
Could the Acid be rebounding, he wondered? Or was he, as he had always suspected, the anointed rabbit?
"God, is that you?" Rasputin asked, not sure he wanted an answer either way.
"Not the Easter Bunny," came the response, and Rasputin whose Higher Power was known for being enigmatic as well as having a sense of humor, was glad. Hearing
from God was better than hallucinations coming from what his therapist called his tw...isted inner rabbit.
And he figured so long as God was not communicating via lightning bolts or heart attacks he was doing ok.
"Don't take this personally my little lapin, but rewriting the scriptures is not the job I had in mind for you."
Again Rasputin was glad..., the project had been daunting even to his megalomaniacal side and he had been worried about the pressure various special interest
groups would bring to bear.
"However, I agree that Farmville needs a bit of revision. Before I bring forth a new flood, (this time it will be electrons) you will go forth as my emissary.
You will be given visions. Try not to warp them to fit with your own desires." With that there was a slight click as God disconnected, but behind was left an
enormous towering cloud in the exact image of Rasputin brilliant and alone in an otherwise clear sky.
Rasputin considered his ego to be a God given asset. This logic allowed him to feed it steroids and otherwise expand it. It was what allowed him to proclaim
his divine inspiration and mandate. This, in turn, got the attention of a busload of pilgrims who were on their way to a shrine dedicated to Our Lady of
Miraculous Bargains in a discount mall in the country next to Farmville, Shopper City.
Their affection was short lived when the pilgrims discovered Rasputin could not produce the discount coupons they craved. They pummeled him with their shopping
bags, which fortunately were empty and shouted "charlatan" as he fled into a marshy field beside the road.
Having escaped the band of pilgrims Rasputin was standing in a field considering he next move when he heard a diminutive chorus which shouted, "yea" this was
followed by a single voice, "I've got behind the ears." and in a second our hero could truly speak in the plural as he was invaded by a gang of fleas who were
waring little leather vests on which was embroidered the words "Plagues R us"
Rasputin, who knew from bitter experience there was no negotiating with fleas, was preparing to throw himself in a swiftly flowing river in the desperate hope
this infestation had left their water wings at home when the flea who had taken station behind his ears said, "This revolution thing, we've got some
suggestions."
Rasputin, who had never met a flea he hadn't scratched, was disturbed on several accounts, not the least of which was having to share the spoils of victory
with a species that reproduced faster than he could.
Massive doses of anti-histamines kept the itching under control and Rasputin would have slept a lot were it not for the fact that his fleas had choral
ambitions. Their repertoire ranged from Mozart to spirituals. They had a version of Jesus loves me with a verse which made reference to their ancestors who had
lived in His beard. The theological implications of this gave Rasputin a headache.
The congregation of fleas with a direct linage to the sainted flea who had lived in Jesus' beard had a version of the Gospel which had not been included in the
familiar texts. They had, they told Rasputin, decided that they were willing to reveal its secrets and asked Rasputin to get them an agent.
Rasputin, whose experiences with literary agents had consisted almost entirely of rejections, was reluctant to make any promises, but agreed to write query
letters the minute he got to an internet cafe. "Unforutnately," he said, "I've got this invasion of Farmville to orchestrate."
Monday, August 30, 2010
Chapter 4
"You care more about your revolution, than you do about me."
It was their third day together, and Ellen was pissed that Rasputin took
time out from a romantic moment to answer an email on his iphone.
Rasputin had long ago learned he was no good at lying to women, so he didn't even try.
"of course," he replied using his characteristic bluntness, "without the revolution
I'm just another cotton tail and I can't imagine that you would be interested in me
if all I could offer you was an occasional carrot." He stroked her arm,
"After the revolution you will be my Josephine."
Talk like that weakened Ellen's knees and she fell back onto the bed,
"Kiss me, you fuzzy fool."
Rasputin awoke to find himself alone and found Ellen logged into his Ebay account,
busily bidding on musical instruments. He watched as she pushed the buy it now button
and became the new owner of a very used tuba.
After cursing himself for having his passwords auto complete, he asked,
"is there an orchestra i should know about?"
"No," she said, then after a pause, "maybe."
Rasputin had enough experience with women to know he had to wait this one out.
After a moment she continued, "You need a plan and I think this is it."
"A used tuba?"
"No, you silly revolutionary," she took a deep breath and began to sing.
"Seventy-six trombones led the big parade
With a hundred and ten cornets close at hand.
They were followed by rows and rows of the finest virtuo-
Sos, the cream of ev'ry famous band.
...Seventy-six trombones caught the morning sun
With a hundred and ten cornets right behind
There were more than a thousand reeds
Springing up like weeds
There were horns of ev'ry shape and kind.
There were copper bottom tympani in horse platoons
Thundering, thundering all along the way.
Double bell euphoniums and big bassoons,
Each bassoon having it's big, fat say!
There were fifty mounted cannon in the battery
Thundering, thundering louder than before
Clarinets of ev'ry size
And trumpeters who'd improvise
A full octave higher than the score!"
"Do you see?" she asked
"Fifty mounted canon?" Rasputin said. he was no longer focused on the naked woman in the chair.
He was envisioning the victory parade, the arch d'triomph he'd build out of haybales,
the statues....
As all the implications of Ellen's plan sank in, Rasputin could not contain his joy.
He kissed her then the computer monitor, and sang a verse of 76 trombones.
At the edge of his mind he wondered how to claim credit for this brilliant idea,
but he gave it little thought. He would be the one to bring it to fruition.
The revolution disguised as a musical, a musical with a cast of thousands, "we'll hold auditions...
Having come up with the invasion plan which he was sure would lead to a quick conquest of farmville,
Rasputin studied film clips and pondered ways to get recruits.
Ellen was scouring Craigslist for uniforms.
Relaxing beside the pool after a day spent trying to drum up support for his invasion of Farmville,
Rasputin was startled when he heard his name over a loudspeaker. "We know you are in there."
After the third repetition, the one in which they mentioned gas grenades, he made his way
across the manicured lawn to the front gate.
Rasputin was relieved to see the agents with an acronym taking up defensive positions and one of them approached him.
He spread his hands in a helpless gesture, "They say they're from ASCAP and there's a carload for Equity,
but they're hanging back right now."
He looked around then said, "I don't know how long we can hold them off. If they start using teargas
the homeowners association is going to get involved and ..."
Ethel McGuinness, 76 years old, 4 foot 11 - a hundred pounds on a day with heavy gravity and head of the homeowners association, parked her 1983 Buick blocking the gate to the estate and slowly got out of her car.
This woman, who probably could have won the war in Afghanistan, if only the Marines had not turned down her application, faced the union agitators and pointed down the street with her finger, "be gone,"she said. the man from ascap lowered his bull horn, and stared at her for a long moment. This man who had dealt with bouncers with Sicilian pedigrees, who had once yanked a jukebox out of a biker bar, and who had not been turned down by t...he marines, knew he was out gunned. He nodded to his compatriots and with in two minutes they were driving down the street in the direction Ethel had indicted.
Next, she turned to the gate, "What's this all about?" she demanded.
She brushed off the homeland security excuse and focused on Rasputin. "I believe we have a clause about renting to rodents."
Rasputin drew himself up so he was almost as big as she was and said, "I beg your pardon - I am certainly not a rodent." After a moment of staring into her eyes he continued. "I am here only temporarily while I plot the ovethrow of Farmville and then Facebook."
Ethel opened her arms, "Why didn't you say so? Facebook is evil . My daughter, she was contacted by this no good idiot from her past and ran off with him. What can i do to help?"
"I never knew Facebook had so many enemies," Rasputin said as he plowed through the emails which had accumulated overnight. One, from a Pastor in Kansas, was so intense Rasputin kept checking to make sure his monitor didn't start smoking. The man who claimed to be the head of a Luddite Baptist congregation claimed a divine insight into how to bring the electronic devil to its knees.
Ellen was a little suspicions, "What is a Luddite Baptist doing using email? This could be a pink herring."
"Yeah, " agreed Rasputin as he pressed the delete button, an act he was to rue later, "Those off-color fish can really stink up a revolution."
Rasputin hated it when a conversation began with, "You know what your problem is?"? He really hated it when they were right and though it was not in his nature to admit it, it was quite possible that this woman had found a a chink in his armadillo.
The armadillo was worried too, having trained to be the first wave of the invasion he knew the success of the whole operation depended on his scales.
"Your problem is that you are a rabbit."
Those were, to Rasputin's mind, fighting words, but the idea of tangling with the toughest little old lady he'd ever met reminded him of his limitations, after all he was a rabbit.
"What do you propose I do about it?" he asked through clenched incisors.
"My son in law is a surgeon, he did wonders... with Margaret Clemments."
"Normally I don't do rabbits," the surgeon began as he ran his eyes over Rasputin. "But you've met my mother in law and..."
"I like being a rabbit. And whatever you do - don't touch the nose. All the girls say it's one of my cutest features.... And cute and cuddly is what works for me."
"I wouldn't think of touching your nose, and quite frankly, my specialty is re-perking middle aged breasts... I might be able to do something with your ears though, the question is, reduction or enhancement?"
The plastic surgeon fed a photograph of Rasputin into his computer. They immediately saw that ear-reduction would make it possible for Rasputin to wear hats, but would probably provide the reason he would want to wear them in the first place. The enhancement adjustment was designed for breasts, so the ears came out... looking like kielbasas.
"Look doc, I'm trying to become emperor of Farmville, not a porn star."
The surgeon got defensive, "You can not underestimate the importance your appearance has on your life. The world is full of ordinary people and, for the most part, they are forced to live ordinary lives."
Rasputin interrupted, "Please spare me the sales pitch. I am, at the risk of denting my humility, poised for greatness, a few ounces of silicone are not the key."
Rasputin thought of saying more, about how the world was full of plasticized bimbos leading plastic lives, but he knew such words would definitely burn this bridge. He was something of an expert, having burned suspension, bascule, fixed sp...an, and even a covered bridge in his day, and he knew he might need this man's skills if his plot were to fail and he needed to change his appearance while on the run. So, for once, he kept his mouth shut and escaped the doctor's office with nary a botox injection.
Having escaped the scalpels of cosmetic surgery, Rasputin became determined not to get distracted again. He watched the Music Man several times, and made the bold decision to go with blue uniforms for the band. Red reminded him of hunting season, and he could get a good price on what was described as a lightly used set of uniforms in blue.
When he returned to the compound Rasputin found the agents without acronyms moving with a brisk purposefulness as they packed their weapons and erased all evidence of their being there which consisted of taking down the calendar which depicted automatic weapons from around the world." Whats going on, " he asked?
"Azure alert - there is a new threat to the nation."
He waited a second and the agent continued "Invasive plants, we've decided that they can be a component in your project."
Rasputin's first instinct was to say that nobody tells me how to ...run my revolution, but the term invasive plants had a nice ring to it.
"Tell me more."
The man lifted a box and said, "We'll brief you on the flight. I'll give you a hint, there is loosestrife aka Lythrum salicaria in your future."
"Plants? I've got a truckload of brass instruments headed this way. What about David and his glockenspiel?"
Before Rasputin could continue his rant one of the agents used up his monthly allotment of smiles and said, "relax little fella, your band is safe. In fact, if it works in Farmville they're talking about tryin...g it out as a new way of protecting the Mexican border, might have to learn some new tunes though."
Rasputin swallowed his next words, if Homeland Security had decided his plan had merit, then he'd be able get funding for the giant float, the one shaped like a giant endive, in which his commandos would hide. He planned to have it break...down near the headquarters of the current government in Farmville and then late at night the Trojan Salad would strike. This was an idea that he could not really claim as original though it was time tested - and he suspected it would work other places too. maybe in Afghanistan. If he could get the contract for that...
It was their third day together, and Ellen was pissed that Rasputin took
time out from a romantic moment to answer an email on his iphone.
Rasputin had long ago learned he was no good at lying to women, so he didn't even try.
"of course," he replied using his characteristic bluntness, "without the revolution
I'm just another cotton tail and I can't imagine that you would be interested in me
if all I could offer you was an occasional carrot." He stroked her arm,
"After the revolution you will be my Josephine."
Talk like that weakened Ellen's knees and she fell back onto the bed,
"Kiss me, you fuzzy fool."
Rasputin awoke to find himself alone and found Ellen logged into his Ebay account,
busily bidding on musical instruments. He watched as she pushed the buy it now button
and became the new owner of a very used tuba.
After cursing himself for having his passwords auto complete, he asked,
"is there an orchestra i should know about?"
"No," she said, then after a pause, "maybe."
Rasputin had enough experience with women to know he had to wait this one out.
After a moment she continued, "You need a plan and I think this is it."
"A used tuba?"
"No, you silly revolutionary," she took a deep breath and began to sing.
"Seventy-six trombones led the big parade
With a hundred and ten cornets close at hand.
They were followed by rows and rows of the finest virtuo-
Sos, the cream of ev'ry famous band.
...Seventy-six trombones caught the morning sun
With a hundred and ten cornets right behind
There were more than a thousand reeds
Springing up like weeds
There were horns of ev'ry shape and kind.
There were copper bottom tympani in horse platoons
Thundering, thundering all along the way.
Double bell euphoniums and big bassoons,
Each bassoon having it's big, fat say!
There were fifty mounted cannon in the battery
Thundering, thundering louder than before
Clarinets of ev'ry size
And trumpeters who'd improvise
A full octave higher than the score!"
"Do you see?" she asked
"Fifty mounted canon?" Rasputin said. he was no longer focused on the naked woman in the chair.
He was envisioning the victory parade, the arch d'triomph he'd build out of haybales,
the statues....
As all the implications of Ellen's plan sank in, Rasputin could not contain his joy.
He kissed her then the computer monitor, and sang a verse of 76 trombones.
At the edge of his mind he wondered how to claim credit for this brilliant idea,
but he gave it little thought. He would be the one to bring it to fruition.
The revolution disguised as a musical, a musical with a cast of thousands, "we'll hold auditions...
Having come up with the invasion plan which he was sure would lead to a quick conquest of farmville,
Rasputin studied film clips and pondered ways to get recruits.
Ellen was scouring Craigslist for uniforms.
Relaxing beside the pool after a day spent trying to drum up support for his invasion of Farmville,
Rasputin was startled when he heard his name over a loudspeaker. "We know you are in there."
After the third repetition, the one in which they mentioned gas grenades, he made his way
across the manicured lawn to the front gate.
Rasputin was relieved to see the agents with an acronym taking up defensive positions and one of them approached him.
He spread his hands in a helpless gesture, "They say they're from ASCAP and there's a carload for Equity,
but they're hanging back right now."
He looked around then said, "I don't know how long we can hold them off. If they start using teargas
the homeowners association is going to get involved and ..."
Ethel McGuinness, 76 years old, 4 foot 11 - a hundred pounds on a day with heavy gravity and head of the homeowners association, parked her 1983 Buick blocking the gate to the estate and slowly got out of her car.
This woman, who probably could have won the war in Afghanistan, if only the Marines had not turned down her application, faced the union agitators and pointed down the street with her finger, "be gone,"she said. the man from ascap lowered his bull horn, and stared at her for a long moment. This man who had dealt with bouncers with Sicilian pedigrees, who had once yanked a jukebox out of a biker bar, and who had not been turned down by t...he marines, knew he was out gunned. He nodded to his compatriots and with in two minutes they were driving down the street in the direction Ethel had indicted.
Next, she turned to the gate, "What's this all about?" she demanded.
She brushed off the homeland security excuse and focused on Rasputin. "I believe we have a clause about renting to rodents."
Rasputin drew himself up so he was almost as big as she was and said, "I beg your pardon - I am certainly not a rodent." After a moment of staring into her eyes he continued. "I am here only temporarily while I plot the ovethrow of Farmville and then Facebook."
Ethel opened her arms, "Why didn't you say so? Facebook is evil . My daughter, she was contacted by this no good idiot from her past and ran off with him. What can i do to help?"
"I never knew Facebook had so many enemies," Rasputin said as he plowed through the emails which had accumulated overnight. One, from a Pastor in Kansas, was so intense Rasputin kept checking to make sure his monitor didn't start smoking. The man who claimed to be the head of a Luddite Baptist congregation claimed a divine insight into how to bring the electronic devil to its knees.
Ellen was a little suspicions, "What is a Luddite Baptist doing using email? This could be a pink herring."
"Yeah, " agreed Rasputin as he pressed the delete button, an act he was to rue later, "Those off-color fish can really stink up a revolution."
Rasputin hated it when a conversation began with, "You know what your problem is?"? He really hated it when they were right and though it was not in his nature to admit it, it was quite possible that this woman had found a a chink in his armadillo.
The armadillo was worried too, having trained to be the first wave of the invasion he knew the success of the whole operation depended on his scales.
"Your problem is that you are a rabbit."
Those were, to Rasputin's mind, fighting words, but the idea of tangling with the toughest little old lady he'd ever met reminded him of his limitations, after all he was a rabbit.
"What do you propose I do about it?" he asked through clenched incisors.
"My son in law is a surgeon, he did wonders... with Margaret Clemments."
"Normally I don't do rabbits," the surgeon began as he ran his eyes over Rasputin. "But you've met my mother in law and..."
"I like being a rabbit. And whatever you do - don't touch the nose. All the girls say it's one of my cutest features.... And cute and cuddly is what works for me."
"I wouldn't think of touching your nose, and quite frankly, my specialty is re-perking middle aged breasts... I might be able to do something with your ears though, the question is, reduction or enhancement?"
The plastic surgeon fed a photograph of Rasputin into his computer. They immediately saw that ear-reduction would make it possible for Rasputin to wear hats, but would probably provide the reason he would want to wear them in the first place. The enhancement adjustment was designed for breasts, so the ears came out... looking like kielbasas.
"Look doc, I'm trying to become emperor of Farmville, not a porn star."
The surgeon got defensive, "You can not underestimate the importance your appearance has on your life. The world is full of ordinary people and, for the most part, they are forced to live ordinary lives."
Rasputin interrupted, "Please spare me the sales pitch. I am, at the risk of denting my humility, poised for greatness, a few ounces of silicone are not the key."
Rasputin thought of saying more, about how the world was full of plasticized bimbos leading plastic lives, but he knew such words would definitely burn this bridge. He was something of an expert, having burned suspension, bascule, fixed sp...an, and even a covered bridge in his day, and he knew he might need this man's skills if his plot were to fail and he needed to change his appearance while on the run. So, for once, he kept his mouth shut and escaped the doctor's office with nary a botox injection.
Having escaped the scalpels of cosmetic surgery, Rasputin became determined not to get distracted again. He watched the Music Man several times, and made the bold decision to go with blue uniforms for the band. Red reminded him of hunting season, and he could get a good price on what was described as a lightly used set of uniforms in blue.
When he returned to the compound Rasputin found the agents without acronyms moving with a brisk purposefulness as they packed their weapons and erased all evidence of their being there which consisted of taking down the calendar which depicted automatic weapons from around the world." Whats going on, " he asked?
"Azure alert - there is a new threat to the nation."
He waited a second and the agent continued "Invasive plants, we've decided that they can be a component in your project."
Rasputin's first instinct was to say that nobody tells me how to ...run my revolution, but the term invasive plants had a nice ring to it.
"Tell me more."
The man lifted a box and said, "We'll brief you on the flight. I'll give you a hint, there is loosestrife aka Lythrum salicaria in your future."
"Plants? I've got a truckload of brass instruments headed this way. What about David and his glockenspiel?"
Before Rasputin could continue his rant one of the agents used up his monthly allotment of smiles and said, "relax little fella, your band is safe. In fact, if it works in Farmville they're talking about tryin...g it out as a new way of protecting the Mexican border, might have to learn some new tunes though."
Rasputin swallowed his next words, if Homeland Security had decided his plan had merit, then he'd be able get funding for the giant float, the one shaped like a giant endive, in which his commandos would hide. He planned to have it break...down near the headquarters of the current government in Farmville and then late at night the Trojan Salad would strike. This was an idea that he could not really claim as original though it was time tested - and he suspected it would work other places too. maybe in Afghanistan. If he could get the contract for that...
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Chapter 3 In which our hero becomes a tort bunny
"I was blinded to the insanity of the family by two things, Joe was rich and he was better in bed than anyone I'd been with till them." Ellen paused and laughed, before continuing, "and it was a whole lot like the Titanic not being able to see the iceberg. I can take that metaphor a long ways, "It was the rich part that blinded me the most, I have to admit. When I was growing up we were rich, or at least I had everything I wanted and more. My dad was very successful - I got spoiled and when it all went away, that's a story in itself but it can be condensed into a short sentence. My father had a mid life crisis and tried to reverse the aging process with cocaine, gambling and a much younger woman. His business went down the tubes, and my mother was left with a huge mortgage, and a bunch of guys named Guy who said that we owed them a lot of money because of an unfortunate bet my father placed. So, then I was poor, we moved in with my Aunt Gloria who was a very sweet woman, but was someone who could not help telling her sister, my mother, 'I told you so' at least eight times a day." "Being a gold-digger in a family that is in the sewage treatment business requires knowing exactly where to dig. The patriarch, Thom was controlling, obsessive about details, and determined that his children would have a better life than he did so long as they were willing to get their hands dirty.The children, were not in agreement and resorted to a good number of ruses to avoid actually working for or with him. There were graduate degrees, which would they claimed make them more useful to the company, there were trips to the far corners of the earth to scout out new business and to learn techniques which would make the company more profitable. All of this was encouraged by their mother who had been cast aside for a younger woman who in turn was ditched for a spring chicken, the one who ended up killing him in bed.Rasputin, who had been enduring the court case on which he was serving as juror number 4, had his attitude adjusted when he heard testimony about a fifth brother who had been killed three years ago while carving a Thanksgiving turkey which had been stuffed with a stick of dynamite by his soon to be ex-wife. "My kind of people," he jotted on the note pad they'd been given.This brother, the eldest, Thom two, had been universally reviled because he was such a brown nose, and because he was poised to take over control of the funds on which his siblings depended. And the widow was acquitted when the defense showed there were several others with equal motive and opportunity all the while showing that the widow did not know that she was about to be served with the final divorce papers at desert.
During a break, of which there were many due to the wrangling of the multitude of attorneys, Rasputin voiced his opinion that a jury who was smart about it could stand to profit handsomely from this case. Several others were immediately receptive to this with only one, Agnes Williams, juror number ten, voicing outrage and shock. Rasputin, called his acronym-less keepers and had them search her background until they found a juicy trail on her computer which led to websites relating to the sex life of Barbie and Ken. By the end of the day she had been replaced by an alternate.
Note: At this juncture Rasputin discovers the joy of having his own facebook page where he registered as a politician running for emperor of Farmville on the Anarchist party.
Having his own Facebook page went to Rasputin's head and he concocted a payout of the yet unpaid bribe that gave him six shares and each of the other jurors one. This was not to be. Juror number 1, a large woman who said jury duty was better than most of her a vacations, "because Buzz isn't here with me and I don't have to listen to him whine." disabused Rasputin of any notion that he was in any way special or privileged. "Watch your step , Rabbit, or you'll end up in a cage at the state fair." This brought up some rather unpleasant memories and there was something about her that told our hero not to call her bluff
Rasputin's relationship with the agents whose acronym is classified eased considerably when he reported the progress he'd made in getting the jury to envision the rewards possible. They brought in a retired US attorney who explained that "Jury tampering is an art. It isn't quite like Sothebys." This relieved Rasputin who had not quite figured out the details, and who was glad to let others set up the offshore bank accounts. He was also encouraged that the large pot was no longer in evidence in kitchen of the safe-house.
Rasputin was terrified about the implications of this statement. “Are you guys really Americans?” he asked the agents, “That goes against everything this county stands for. The retired US attorney nodded, “the trick is to stay out of jail yourself Your verdict has to seem remotely plausible. Besides, you have a vested interest in one of the possible outcomes, any payoff is just gravy.” Rasputin was glad he’d never been prosecuted by this man, he was slicker than goose shit on a Teflon frying pan. “How do I explain that to the other jurors?”>
As the judge gavelled the court into session three days
later, Rasputin stood in the jury box and said, “Your honor the jury has
reached a verdict.” There was a gasp and then three of the plaintiff's
attorneys stood yelling something about the trial not being finished. The judge, who was not looking forward to hearing testimony on this case for the next six months, who had already grown to hate all the lawyers in the room except one who was far too cute to hate, and who was sure the appeals of whatever verdict would eventually be rendered would drag on for years anyway, thought, “why the hell not?” and ordered the bailiff to place duct tape over the mouths of the lawyers.
Rasputin addressed the court,
“First, your honor, while it was not on the list of charges,
we believe all the participants in this lawsuit are guilty of excessive and
depraved greed. Second, we believe the
only fair solution is to deprive all of them of any gain, therefore our verdict
...is that the proceeds of the estate should go to
a charity, and we the jury are willing to oversee this.” The court room broke into many moniums some panda, some zebra as the participants of the suit were suddenly thrown into an alliance that none of them could ever have envisioned. They had to protest this but...
This alliance lasted less than two seconds, there was far too much blood under the bridge for them to ever agree on anything - except that all of their opponents were being screwed. This was why they were there in the first place. Each had already siphoned off enough of the estate that they would not be left within two time zones of destitute.
As the bemused judge watched, one then another of the plaintiffs whispered to their attorneys
that this was acceptable to them.
Rasputin, who had tripled the amount of gin he usually
poured over his corn flakes that morning, was as amazed as anyone. But he was ready when the judge banged his
gavel and asked, “what charity do you have in mind?” Rasputin and the Judge were on the covers of Time, Newsweek, People and the Harvard Law Review which hailed it as “the spark of the revolution needed to induce tort reform to our failing judicial system.”
There was considerable attention paid in the press and media to the verdict and the payout to the jury. Rasputin who had never been one to shirk a press opportunity went to an interview on Court TV where he found himself sitting with one of the parties in the suit.
Ellen was, Rasputin could not help but notice, very
attractive. While some of the other
participants in the suit had expressed bitterness about the outcome, she smiled
and answered a question by saying, “It is as important to take joy in the
defeat of others as it is to savor your own victories.""My kind of woman," Rasputin thought.
Next: Rasputin in Love - will our hero get diverted from his quest?
During a break, of which there were many due to the wrangling of the multitude of attorneys, Rasputin voiced his opinion that a jury who was smart about it could stand to profit handsomely from this case. Several others were immediately receptive to this with only one, Agnes Williams, juror number ten, voicing outrage and shock. Rasputin, called his acronym-less keepers and had them search her background until they found a juicy trail on her computer which led to websites relating to the sex life of Barbie and Ken. By the end of the day she had been replaced by an alternate.
Note: At this juncture Rasputin discovers the joy of having his own facebook page where he registered as a politician running for emperor of Farmville on the Anarchist party.
Having his own Facebook page went to Rasputin's head and he concocted a payout of the yet unpaid bribe that gave him six shares and each of the other jurors one. This was not to be. Juror number 1, a large woman who said jury duty was better than most of her a vacations, "because Buzz isn't here with me and I don't have to listen to him whine." disabused Rasputin of any notion that he was in any way special or privileged. "Watch your step , Rabbit, or you'll end up in a cage at the state fair." This brought up some rather unpleasant memories and there was something about her that told our hero not to call her bluff
Rasputin's relationship with the agents whose acronym is classified eased considerably when he reported the progress he'd made in getting the jury to envision the rewards possible. They brought in a retired US attorney who explained that "Jury tampering is an art. It isn't quite like Sothebys." This relieved Rasputin who had not quite figured out the details, and who was glad to let others set up the offshore bank accounts. He was also encouraged that the large pot was no longer in evidence in kitchen of the safe-house.
Rasputin was terrified about the implications of this statement. “Are you guys really Americans?” he asked the agents, “That goes against everything this county stands for. The retired US attorney nodded, “the trick is to stay out of jail yourself Your verdict has to seem remotely plausible. Besides, you have a vested interest in one of the possible outcomes, any payoff is just gravy.” Rasputin was glad he’d never been prosecuted by this man, he was slicker than goose shit on a Teflon frying pan. “How do I explain that to the other jurors?”>
As the judge gavelled the court into session three days
later, Rasputin stood in the jury box and said, “Your honor the jury has
reached a verdict.” There was a gasp and then three of the plaintiff's
attorneys stood yelling something about the trial not being finished. The judge, who was not looking forward to hearing testimony on this case for the next six months, who had already grown to hate all the lawyers in the room except one who was far too cute to hate, and who was sure the appeals of whatever verdict would eventually be rendered would drag on for years anyway, thought, “why the hell not?” and ordered the bailiff to place duct tape over the mouths of the lawyers.
Rasputin addressed the court,
“First, your honor, while it was not on the list of charges,
we believe all the participants in this lawsuit are guilty of excessive and
depraved greed. Second, we believe the
only fair solution is to deprive all of them of any gain, therefore our verdict
...is that the proceeds of the estate should go to
a charity, and we the jury are willing to oversee this.” The court room broke into many moniums some panda, some zebra as the participants of the suit were suddenly thrown into an alliance that none of them could ever have envisioned. They had to protest this but...
This alliance lasted less than two seconds, there was far too much blood under the bridge for them to ever agree on anything - except that all of their opponents were being screwed. This was why they were there in the first place. Each had already siphoned off enough of the estate that they would not be left within two time zones of destitute.
As the bemused judge watched, one then another of the plaintiffs whispered to their attorneys
that this was acceptable to them.
Rasputin, who had tripled the amount of gin he usually
poured over his corn flakes that morning, was as amazed as anyone. But he was ready when the judge banged his
gavel and asked, “what charity do you have in mind?” Rasputin and the Judge were on the covers of Time, Newsweek, People and the Harvard Law Review which hailed it as “the spark of the revolution needed to induce tort reform to our failing judicial system.”
There was considerable attention paid in the press and media to the verdict and the payout to the jury. Rasputin who had never been one to shirk a press opportunity went to an interview on Court TV where he found himself sitting with one of the parties in the suit.
Ellen was, Rasputin could not help but notice, very
attractive. While some of the other
participants in the suit had expressed bitterness about the outcome, she smiled
and answered a question by saying, “It is as important to take joy in the
defeat of others as it is to savor your own victories.""My kind of woman," Rasputin thought.
Next: Rasputin in Love - will our hero get diverted from his quest?
Chapter 2
As he edged into the Alanon room, Rasputin eyed the circle of folding chairs and wondered if the ritual ever involved sacrifices of alcoholics. Being a rabbit he was naturally a little jumpy, and the sight of this many determined women gave him pause.
When the Alanon meeting opened with the serenity prayer, Rasputin became convinced they were saying grace, and was sorely troubled because he had visions of being the main course. He then noticed there were no forks and knives in evidence, so he relaxed enough to listen as a woman recounted an episode with a drunken husband and how she had let him sit in jail over the the long weekend. "The quiet around the house was so nice I just couldn't bear to spoil it," she said to a round of laughter.
Rasputin was suddenly all ears, this sounded a lot like his bunnyhood when his father would get drunk on the carrot wine he used to make and then would get violent and loud. Rasputin remembered times when he'd wanted something, anything, to happen to his father. And finally when something did, involving a lawnmower and an angry rabbit with a hangover who was determined to show the homeowner whose lawn this really was, Rasputin felt a sense of relief which had caused him some guilt, even to this day. He also, in a moment of clarity he was not at all ready for, realized he had become his father.
The revelation, that he had become his father, rocked Rasputin. This was something he had sworn never to do to the point of it being something of a mantra, and here he was twelve minutes into his first Alanon meeting sobbing into a wad of tissues and for once unable to launch his canoe on the river of denial which flo...wed through his life. This was, he realized, worse than being imprisoned by the chickens.
"Thank God for Gin," Rasputin said as he settled back on his sofa determined to erase the Alanon meeting and the understandings he had attained from his memory. Soon he felt himself sliding down the familiar tunnel into a happy state of nothingness.
In a fleeting episode of lucidity between the fourth and seventh drinks Rasputin came up with a plan for ousting the church and its new found grip on farmville. "Battle of the higher powers", he scribbled on a piece of paper so he would remember it later. A few minutes later he added "sindication" and then the handwriting trailed off to a squiggly line
The hangover would have been tolerable if Rasputin had awakened in his own bed with the ticking of the alarm clock as the most pressing issue of the moment, but instead the sense of having his head in a vise was compounded when he discovered a large, and very fat, woodchuck sharing the bed with him at the Motel 2 and a... half located on the wrong side of the tracks in Farmville.
Not only was the woodchuck naked she was, it soon developed, needy, and she latched onto Rasputin as though he was a deck chair on the Titanic after all the lifeboats had left. Being imprisoned by the chickens was nothing compared to havin...g her call him "darling" and making references to the wonderful things he'd promised the night before.
Rasputin, for his part, was thinking that the water had risen at least to the Promenade Deck, was offered a life jacket of sorts when it became clear that she didn't remember his name either. He slipped into the bathroom. turned on the water in the shower and with some difficulty squeezed his way out the small window and dropped into a barren patch of ground behind the motel.
No sooner had Rasputin touched the ground then he felt a hand grip him by the ears and lift him into the air again. For a moment he was sure the woodchuck had discovered his escape, but as he turned he found himself looking at a pair of mirrored sunglasses. He immediately realized he did not look his best.
His captor was quickly joined by two others, one, a woman with close cropped blond hair, who were wearing suits and seemingly identical sunglasses. The multitude of reflections was unnerving. A second later he was dropped, but only fell a foot into a stiff canvas bag which was cinched on top blocking out much of the light.
They carried him around the side of the motel, and not so gently tossed him into the back seat of a hulking black suv with tinted windows. If there was any upside, Rasputin thought, it was that he was not dealing with amateurs, these folks..., whomever they were, were clearly well practiced in abducting rabbits. Whatever was going on was probably not any worse than being in that motel room with the clingy, needy woodchuck.
The drive took a while, and the still hungovered bunny took advantage of the quiet and the dark to catch some much needed sleep.
Rasputin awoke as the bag was lifted from the car and carried by someone walking quickly across a hard surface. Quicker than you could say rendition he was passed to another person who climbed a set of titanium stairs and ducked through the doorway of a private jet. Two minutes later they were airborne, the bag was opened and he was dumped onto a leather couch.
It took him a minute to get his bearings, the hangover had progressed from acute to a state of generalized meanness and anger and Rasputin who had never been one to let insurmountable odds influence his behavior said, "Who the hell are you,... and when do we get to Aspen?"The three large men sitting opposite, seemed to think this funny, one of them smiled a centimeter, another touched his mirrored sunglasses making sure the were in place, and the third pulled a large hypodermic needle from a leather pouch.
"Unless that's medical grade heroin, put it away. As the song goes, I know when to fold em," Rasputin said as the rendition jet leveled off at cruising altitude. The man holding the syringe looked at one of the others, got a nod, and eased the needle back into the leather pouch.After a moment the man who had given ...the signal spoke, "You have a choice
we have anice septic, solitary cell in Syria, a fetid chamber in Afghanistan thatyou would share with six very hungry men, or a nice walled estate inPalm Springs from which you can plot and then steer your conquest ofFarmville," He rea...chedacross the space and picked up Rasputin, roughly manipulating his armsand legs as he continued, "But you will be our puppet."
It took Rasputin a few moments to wrap his brain around the idea that none of this existed. These agents had probably forgotten the names they were born with ( or had them surgically removed), the plane probably showed up on no radar screens, and he had the choice of becoming stew or a steward.
For a moment he considered using his ninja skills and trying to takeover the aircraft, but instead he decided that living to see theafternoon was as good a plan as any. If he appeared to cooperate hemight learn something and sooner or later they would let their guarddown and he would be able to make a move
The men with sunglasses took Rasputin to a walled estate in Palm Springs, but instead of lounging by the pool sipping cold drinks, he was confined to an airless closet where a flat screen television was playing a loop of rabbit recipes from various shows on the food network. After two days of this tenderizing they to...ok him from the closet and placed him on the butcher block counter in the kitchen.
Rasputin had taken a dislike to the agents with no acronym in general and to one in particular who had a shaved head and an attitude like a constipated rhinoceros. this was the one who said, "So what's it going to be, lunchmeat, are you going to tell us the names of your contacts inside Facebook? Or," he turned to th...e stove where there was a large pot, "do you want to try this on for size?"
Rasputin was a bold rabbit, brash even, but brave, not so much. He also knew this was his best card and was determined to play it carefully. "You want to partner with me , fine, I could use the help, but you've got to let me play him. Y...our style of intimidation wouldn't work with him.""Partner with you?" this struck the agent as about the funniest thing he'd heard since they'd blown up a suicide bomber as he was assembling his bomb.From behind him came another voice, "Let's try this, you get us a a back door into the data set, one that avoids the privacy settings, and give us a query that serves up all the Unitarians and fans of NPR - and you won't be the appetizer at dinner tonight. Hell, if you can sort it by zipcode you might even get a place at the table.Not to be outgeeked Rasputin asked .and. or .or.?
While Rasputin waited for his contacts at facebook to provide the dataset to the government he opened the mail which had accumulated during his adventures and, to his amazement found he'd been called for jury duty. "Me? a renegade rabbit summoned, stripped of my civil liberties and made to listen to lawyers. Take me back to the closet."
The men without an acronym were not sympathetic - it is a duty and aprivilege, cabbage breath," one said. And it might do you good.
Rasputin looked around at the other jurors and decided he wouldnt want them deciding his fate. Then again he was of the school of making your own destiny. It was the tv in the corner that made it an official circle of hell
The case you will be hearing involves four brothers and a sister whoinherited a sewage treatment business and who are allegingmismanagement, fraud, collusion regarding the running of this business.you will hear from four ex wives two of whom are married to differentbrothers, four accountants, three of whom are in jail, and theweatherman from channel 4.
After listening to six hours of opening statements from the attorneys of two of the brothers involved in the lawsuit about the control and management of the sewage treatment company, and learning that the widow, a trophy wife not the mother of the plaintiffs, would be added to the case, Rasputin was reconsidering the option to become stew.
When the third attorney, representing the youngest son, began hisstatement he said dna evidence would show that two of the otherpurported sons and the daughter were not progeny of the father and weretherefore ineligible to profit from t...hewill and that the mother would testify she was not the only one in themarriage who strayed that she suspected there were dozens of bastards,big and little, who were eligible to enter into the case. As theswooning began, the judge got up and adjourned the case "to the dayafter I retire." But before the courtroom could clear, Mitch Caldwellrestored order and offered the participants contracts on a reality showtentatively called "stab your brother"
When he returned home that night Rasputin was told it was no accident he was on that jury. "this is your first assignment it makes sense when you realize that sewage treatment is Americas vulnerable under belly. We have calculated that attacking this system would be the easiest way for Al-Qaeda to disable our country.... We also have information that one of the players in this case has terrorist leanings."
When he tried to log into Facebook Rasputin found his password had been changed. Furious, he tried all three of his back-up identities (which he sometimes referred to as his invisible friends) and discovered they too had been hijacked.Forcing his way into the command module he discovered agents working his personas.... "Hey," he shouted, " I thought we had a deal."
The lead agent turned to him and said, "the deal is we don't eat you for dinner. The deal is you will go to court like a good little jury bunny and in the meantime we will grow your farmville empire beyond your wildest dreams. When the tr...ial is over you will return to farmville in triumph and splendor." He paused, "now go into the dining room Agent Kiefer will explain some of the accounting tricks the various players in the case used to siphon off assets. Who knows? this might be useful to you later." With that he turned back to his monitor.Now, Rasputin had never been called a mental giant, but he was hardly a dumb bunny, and what he'd seen on the monitors assured him his holdings in farmville were being tended to, so he turned and went out to further his education.
Chapter 1
The collected saga of Rasputin and the takeover of facebook Chapter 1
by Todd Vogel on Wednesday, July 28, 2010 at 8:52pm
This is an ongoing serial story posted as my status from time to time.
It was collected after the story had been going for a while and an episode or two may have been missed - but it probably does not matter. Typos have not been edited.
more will be revealed
Once upon a time there was a renegade rabbit, a bellicose bunny who drank gin in the morning and dreamed of the coming revolution in Farmville after which the animals would rule and the humans would be confined to the barnyards. His friends told him that Geroge Orwell was writing fiction, but he did not believe them.
Back story on the revolutionary rabbit who is posed to take over farmville. In the deep sub basements of a well known pharmaceutical company there is a top secret lab which has found a way to insert human DNA into its test animals to better gauge the adverse results on them. This was not a job that your average biol...ogy PhD would want, so the company dispensed with the usual pre employment psychological exams.
The rabbit, named Rasputin by the scientist who gave him several DNA assists, realized taking over farmville would be just the first step, but also knew it had to be achieved flawlessly. His first move was to reduce the price of seed and grain and announce he was running for the office of Mayor which was vacant due to the sudden, unexpected demise of Floyd Walker
Floyd Walker who succumbed to a heart attack incurred while taking afternoon liberties with Farmer Thomas' wife - speciffically upon being interrupted by Farmer Thomas who had gotten an anonymous phone call urging him to return home early from his hunting trip.
Rasputin realized the charm of farmville was getting others to do your work for you - a talent he'd always tried to cultivate. Before long he had people posting Elect Rasputin posters on everything from fence posts to the sides of grazing cows. Not content with that he searched facebook and found members of the Flori...da Election Board who he hired as poll watchers.
Rasputin, the rabbit who was elected mayor of farmville, began consolidating power immediately.The chief of police was replaced with possum and a pitbull was hired as the new tax assessor. In his inagural speach he promised those who stood with him that they would soon be able to replace their ordinary lives with thei...r farmville fantasies - and that sex was going to be implemented soon. "After all, I am a Rabbit "
On the far side of the barnyard the chickens were not swayed by the Rabbit's retoric. "Pullet power," they yelled as they piled out of the coop.
Rasputin who had studied slient kills with the Ninjas of Kyoto, assault weaponry with the bubbas of Georgia, and WMD with you know who, was not prepared for such a sudden and overwhelming attack. Four holes were pecked in his left ear before he could get to his truck, only to discover he'd left his keys in the pants he wasn't wearing because he was a rabbit.
After the coop the chickens realized they had no coherant plan for running Farmville let alone taking over Facebook. Though some argued they should return to their former life, a clear majority was tired of laying eggs and having a destiny that included the word "fried". After scratching about for a while they realiz...ed that the fact no one would take them seriously could be used to their advantage.
Things were quiet for the first few days following the chickens ascension to power in Farmville, but the peace proved fragile as an egg when one of the hens, A Rhode Island Red named Cassandra, had a vision which unfortunately included a large vat of soup. Cassandra who already had something of a position as a spiritu...al leader among the pullets, found Farmville to be a wonderful way to expand and extend her pulpit.
Aware that there was a resistance building, the chickens began an aggressive campaign to bolster their image. Chickens began volunteering ant animal shelters, became fixtures at soup kitchens, and took out a series of ads which tried to show the gentler softer side of poultry.
Having named their comando training center Camp Swami Dami, after an noted vegan, the chickens built a mock up of a KFC where they are begining to hone their assault techniques. Not content with a one front battle plan, they also have a team of programmers working on the next iteration of Facebooks privacy settings system. All the while, Rasputin Rabbit, confined to a cell in the basement of the abandoned farmhouse, has been gnawing at the rope s which are holding the door closed.
Having spent several hours pecking out their ultimatum on the keyboard, the chickens' excitement grew until one of them realized they had neglected to turn the computer on. The revolution has been put on hold for another day.
The chickens have decided this weekend is their time to try and take over the rest of facebook. The invasion plan involves a float in the fourth of july parade which will be an attachment in an email they are sending. So if you get a friend request from someone with chicken related name, ie Pullet, Marsalla, Bantam e...tc - it is best to run it through your chicken checker software.
Change has been stymied - the chickens parked their invasion ready float in the parking lot at the American Legion hall, went inside and almost immediately got into a brawl with a group of Knights of Columbus who were feeling left out of the holiday celebration. It was not a fair fight. Despite their ninja training,... they were still chickens - and the K of C were itching to put their ceremonial swords to good use. This has left a power vacuum in the land of facebook. A bunch of history buffs are rushing to complete programming on a Genghis Khan avatar which they see ideally suited to taking over Farmville but they realize they must act quickly and seize power before the rabbit is able to escape from the makeshift dungeon where the chickens had imprisoned him.
Rasputin, the rabbit intent on taking over facebook - and once the ruler of farmville, decided that chewing through an electrical feeder cable would create the instability he needed to retake control. Unfortunately, the 10000 volts that passed through his brain scrambled thins somewhat and he woke believing himself to be the reincarnation of Shirley Temple.
Angie Brisse The rest of the warren was so grossed out by his rendition of "The Good Ship Lollipop" that they immediately stabbed him, poisoned him, wrapped him on a rug, and threw him into the freezing Volga river.
can the revolution end in such a mundane fashion? Or did the paranoid Rasputin have a bunny double?
Though Rasputin survived the assignation attempt following his first campaign appearance in which he wore a curly wig, and did a rendition of Good Ship Lollypop which drew the attention of a United Nations inspection team looking for WMDs, he decided that he would switch to "The World Owes Me a Living" as a campaign plank.
Rasputin Rabbit the erstwhile dictator of Farmville was last seen confined to the basement of an abaondoned farmhouse. The news, today, is that he has been freed! A donkey who had watched the chickens' accension to power, and their subsiquent roasting at the hands of the Knights of Columbus, was able to find a way to... break through the cellar stairs and reach our hapless hero. Unfortunately for Rasputin...The donkey's motives were not political, but, rather were amorous for this burro had a fetish for small furry animals. Rasputin greeted his release with joy until he felt a large tomgue in his ear.
Rasputin, wearing a leather harness festooned with chrome nubbies which spelled out "sex slave" and again confined in the basement of the farmhouse by the kinky donkey, was afraid his political career was finished - until he learned that his master's website "Kinky Barnyard" got more hits than the sites for the Metro...politan Museum and Dilbert combined.Now, he reasoned, if he could only get out of his restraints, he had a new path to power in Farmville. And the good news was that because the donkey lacked thumbs he was not that good at tying knots.
The donkey, now restrained in the basement was quite unhappy at the reversal of roles. All the while, Rasputin was working with the renegade Facebook programmer he'd once rescued from a compromising position in a seedy bar to give Farmville a whole new look. Utilizing the houses abandoned by those who had bored of th...e game, he had his sights on opening the first virtual bordello on a social networking site.
The power hungry rabbit was counting the virtual profits from the first weeks receipts at Rasputin's Rascal Ranch when he heard a car pull up. Most of the girls were back in the barn, but the thought he could scare up some critters. Looking out the window he saw it was not a car but a van emblazoned with "First Churc...h of Farmville on its sides in big gold letters which were set off against the purple paint job.
The first off the van at the Rascal Ranch was the preacher wearing a long black robe. He was followed by the choir, six young women and four men wearing red robes. Once gathered in a semi circle the reverend spoke, his voice loud and deep. "My God is a joyful God," he nodded to the choir who slipped out of their rob...es, revealing bikinis or less, and began to sing "Love Lifted Me". Rasputin, who was delusional about many things, but not about business realized he had met the competition and they had him beat. The spend a night with a sow offering had only appealed to a couple of very drunk men who had left vowing to ...go into a rehab. He had nothing to offer even close to the angelic women (and men) in his yard. Then next hymn was "He's got the whole world in his hands" sung solo by a buxom young woman, who used her hands to demonstrate exactly how much of the she meant. It was a novel arrangement and Rasputin found himself moving out onto the porch to get a better view.
Rasputin immediately knew he was out classed. He breifly thought about joing them, but the memories of a total imersion baptism and near drowning he'd partaken in as a desperate attempt to cure a class VII hangover kept him on the porch as he resumed his waiting game.
Reverend Roy, who had worked his way through seminary by managing a strip club out by the airport, took what he considered to be an enlightented attitude to dogma. Upon assuming the role of ruler of Farmville, he sent his choir out to survey the residents as to their attitude towards concubines (male or female). Thi...s he figured might well get their attention and could provide a source of positive cash flow.Please list below your thoughts and desires as to the availability of concubines (of either sex) on Farmville. which foreign country would you like them to come from?
Seeking allies, Rasputin went to a knights of Columbus function (they, after all had been very useful in dispatching the chickens), but to his dismay Roy had gotten there first. Two of the women were tending bar, and pouring generously it should be added, and Roy was in deep conversation with one of the leaders.
Knowing his proverbial goose was definitely in the oven, the foiled rabbit was headed to his lair to consider his options when he passed a group of women headed into a side door of the Methodist church.
Knowing that a couple of them were t...he wives of the men he'd just left, he guessed he had stumbled upon an Al-anon meeting and, making one of those life changing spur of the moment decisions he followed them into the building.
possible end of chapter 1
It was collected after the story had been going for a while and an episode or two may have been missed - but it probably does not matter. Typos have not been edited.
more will be revealed
Once upon a time there was a renegade rabbit, a bellicose bunny who drank gin in the morning and dreamed of the coming revolution in Farmville after which the animals would rule and the humans would be confined to the barnyards. His friends told him that Geroge Orwell was writing fiction, but he did not believe them.
Back story on the revolutionary rabbit who is posed to take over farmville. In the deep sub basements of a well known pharmaceutical company there is a top secret lab which has found a way to insert human DNA into its test animals to better gauge the adverse results on them. This was not a job that your average biol...ogy PhD would want, so the company dispensed with the usual pre employment psychological exams.
The rabbit, named Rasputin by the scientist who gave him several DNA assists, realized taking over farmville would be just the first step, but also knew it had to be achieved flawlessly. His first move was to reduce the price of seed and grain and announce he was running for the office of Mayor which was vacant due to the sudden, unexpected demise of Floyd Walker
Floyd Walker who succumbed to a heart attack incurred while taking afternoon liberties with Farmer Thomas' wife - speciffically upon being interrupted by Farmer Thomas who had gotten an anonymous phone call urging him to return home early from his hunting trip.
Rasputin realized the charm of farmville was getting others to do your work for you - a talent he'd always tried to cultivate. Before long he had people posting Elect Rasputin posters on everything from fence posts to the sides of grazing cows. Not content with that he searched facebook and found members of the Flori...da Election Board who he hired as poll watchers.
Rasputin, the rabbit who was elected mayor of farmville, began consolidating power immediately.The chief of police was replaced with possum and a pitbull was hired as the new tax assessor. In his inagural speach he promised those who stood with him that they would soon be able to replace their ordinary lives with thei...r farmville fantasies - and that sex was going to be implemented soon. "After all, I am a Rabbit "
On the far side of the barnyard the chickens were not swayed by the Rabbit's retoric. "Pullet power," they yelled as they piled out of the coop.
Rasputin who had studied slient kills with the Ninjas of Kyoto, assault weaponry with the bubbas of Georgia, and WMD with you know who, was not prepared for such a sudden and overwhelming attack. Four holes were pecked in his left ear before he could get to his truck, only to discover he'd left his keys in the pants he wasn't wearing because he was a rabbit.
After the coop the chickens realized they had no coherant plan for running Farmville let alone taking over Facebook. Though some argued they should return to their former life, a clear majority was tired of laying eggs and having a destiny that included the word "fried". After scratching about for a while they realiz...ed that the fact no one would take them seriously could be used to their advantage.
Things were quiet for the first few days following the chickens ascension to power in Farmville, but the peace proved fragile as an egg when one of the hens, A Rhode Island Red named Cassandra, had a vision which unfortunately included a large vat of soup. Cassandra who already had something of a position as a spiritu...al leader among the pullets, found Farmville to be a wonderful way to expand and extend her pulpit.
Aware that there was a resistance building, the chickens began an aggressive campaign to bolster their image. Chickens began volunteering ant animal shelters, became fixtures at soup kitchens, and took out a series of ads which tried to show the gentler softer side of poultry.
Having named their comando training center Camp Swami Dami, after an noted vegan, the chickens built a mock up of a KFC where they are begining to hone their assault techniques. Not content with a one front battle plan, they also have a team of programmers working on the next iteration of Facebooks privacy settings system. All the while, Rasputin Rabbit, confined to a cell in the basement of the abandoned farmhouse, has been gnawing at the rope s which are holding the door closed.
Having spent several hours pecking out their ultimatum on the keyboard, the chickens' excitement grew until one of them realized they had neglected to turn the computer on. The revolution has been put on hold for another day.
The chickens have decided this weekend is their time to try and take over the rest of facebook. The invasion plan involves a float in the fourth of july parade which will be an attachment in an email they are sending. So if you get a friend request from someone with chicken related name, ie Pullet, Marsalla, Bantam e...tc - it is best to run it through your chicken checker software.
Change has been stymied - the chickens parked their invasion ready float in the parking lot at the American Legion hall, went inside and almost immediately got into a brawl with a group of Knights of Columbus who were feeling left out of the holiday celebration. It was not a fair fight. Despite their ninja training,... they were still chickens - and the K of C were itching to put their ceremonial swords to good use. This has left a power vacuum in the land of facebook. A bunch of history buffs are rushing to complete programming on a Genghis Khan avatar which they see ideally suited to taking over Farmville but they realize they must act quickly and seize power before the rabbit is able to escape from the makeshift dungeon where the chickens had imprisoned him.
Rasputin, the rabbit intent on taking over facebook - and once the ruler of farmville, decided that chewing through an electrical feeder cable would create the instability he needed to retake control. Unfortunately, the 10000 volts that passed through his brain scrambled thins somewhat and he woke believing himself to be the reincarnation of Shirley Temple.
Angie Brisse The rest of the warren was so grossed out by his rendition of "The Good Ship Lollipop" that they immediately stabbed him, poisoned him, wrapped him on a rug, and threw him into the freezing Volga river.
can the revolution end in such a mundane fashion? Or did the paranoid Rasputin have a bunny double?
Though Rasputin survived the assignation attempt following his first campaign appearance in which he wore a curly wig, and did a rendition of Good Ship Lollypop which drew the attention of a United Nations inspection team looking for WMDs, he decided that he would switch to "The World Owes Me a Living" as a campaign plank.
Rasputin Rabbit the erstwhile dictator of Farmville was last seen confined to the basement of an abaondoned farmhouse. The news, today, is that he has been freed! A donkey who had watched the chickens' accension to power, and their subsiquent roasting at the hands of the Knights of Columbus, was able to find a way to... break through the cellar stairs and reach our hapless hero. Unfortunately for Rasputin...The donkey's motives were not political, but, rather were amorous for this burro had a fetish for small furry animals. Rasputin greeted his release with joy until he felt a large tomgue in his ear.
Rasputin, wearing a leather harness festooned with chrome nubbies which spelled out "sex slave" and again confined in the basement of the farmhouse by the kinky donkey, was afraid his political career was finished - until he learned that his master's website "Kinky Barnyard" got more hits than the sites for the Metro...politan Museum and Dilbert combined.Now, he reasoned, if he could only get out of his restraints, he had a new path to power in Farmville. And the good news was that because the donkey lacked thumbs he was not that good at tying knots.
The donkey, now restrained in the basement was quite unhappy at the reversal of roles. All the while, Rasputin was working with the renegade Facebook programmer he'd once rescued from a compromising position in a seedy bar to give Farmville a whole new look. Utilizing the houses abandoned by those who had bored of th...e game, he had his sights on opening the first virtual bordello on a social networking site.
The power hungry rabbit was counting the virtual profits from the first weeks receipts at Rasputin's Rascal Ranch when he heard a car pull up. Most of the girls were back in the barn, but the thought he could scare up some critters. Looking out the window he saw it was not a car but a van emblazoned with "First Churc...h of Farmville on its sides in big gold letters which were set off against the purple paint job.
The first off the van at the Rascal Ranch was the preacher wearing a long black robe. He was followed by the choir, six young women and four men wearing red robes. Once gathered in a semi circle the reverend spoke, his voice loud and deep. "My God is a joyful God," he nodded to the choir who slipped out of their rob...es, revealing bikinis or less, and began to sing "Love Lifted Me". Rasputin, who was delusional about many things, but not about business realized he had met the competition and they had him beat. The spend a night with a sow offering had only appealed to a couple of very drunk men who had left vowing to ...go into a rehab. He had nothing to offer even close to the angelic women (and men) in his yard. Then next hymn was "He's got the whole world in his hands" sung solo by a buxom young woman, who used her hands to demonstrate exactly how much of the she meant. It was a novel arrangement and Rasputin found himself moving out onto the porch to get a better view.
Rasputin immediately knew he was out classed. He breifly thought about joing them, but the memories of a total imersion baptism and near drowning he'd partaken in as a desperate attempt to cure a class VII hangover kept him on the porch as he resumed his waiting game.
Reverend Roy, who had worked his way through seminary by managing a strip club out by the airport, took what he considered to be an enlightented attitude to dogma. Upon assuming the role of ruler of Farmville, he sent his choir out to survey the residents as to their attitude towards concubines (male or female). Thi...s he figured might well get their attention and could provide a source of positive cash flow.Please list below your thoughts and desires as to the availability of concubines (of either sex) on Farmville. which foreign country would you like them to come from?
Seeking allies, Rasputin went to a knights of Columbus function (they, after all had been very useful in dispatching the chickens), but to his dismay Roy had gotten there first. Two of the women were tending bar, and pouring generously it should be added, and Roy was in deep conversation with one of the leaders.
Knowing his proverbial goose was definitely in the oven, the foiled rabbit was headed to his lair to consider his options when he passed a group of women headed into a side door of the Methodist church.
Knowing that a couple of them were t...he wives of the men he'd just left, he guessed he had stumbled upon an Al-anon meeting and, making one of those life changing spur of the moment decisions he followed them into the building.
possible end of chapter 1
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