Professor Shroomsky's Wild Escapade

In this tale, Professor Shroomsky tells, in the first person, of a grand adventure with twists and turns around every bend. From Mabel to a heat wave, and ultimately, an evil plot.

The story takes place back in the summer of 2006, when the AiringJet Current was being built.

Chapter One: The Trouble with Puffles
As an avid traveller, I've seen puffles for years. They make squeaking sounds and have a ruffled up hairdo... or fur pattern. Yes, I held this thought for years. I even knew that some puffles were capable of speech. I always liked puffles. They were so soft to the touch, rather warm, quite intelligent. I taught one to do my taxes. I'm forever grateful to that furball. The species as a whole have benefited me. They sure no how to season rotten bananas... oohhhh.

It's as if puffles were designed to be domesticated.

Or, so I thought.

I happened to be in South Pole City the other day, where I would see penguins and their puffles mingling in harmony.

Imagine my surprise when I saw Mabel! The glasses, the clean, well groomed fur... she looked rather like an old, stereotypical secretary. All business. That fur looked more like hair, in all honesty. That was what I could behold at first impression.

I scooted up to the puffle in question, who happened to be staring at something on the wall.

"Hello!" I greeted, in warm Christmas cheer, as was the custom I so enjoyed in December.

The puffle did not move. Reaching down to nuzzle it (I don't have hands), the puffle quickly turned and beared her teeth. What a shock!

"I don't know what you are, but I hate you already."

I blinked and rubbed my glasses on my coat. Putting them back on, I just stared.

"What are you looking at, freak?"

Silence.

"Well? What are you?"

Shaking out of thought, I replied.

"I am a mushroom. Might I add that you're a good looking puffle."

The furball smiled, albeit faintly.

"I know. I get that a lot."

I blinked again. Such arrogance! Was there a thread of modesty here?

Explorer, who happened to overhear, turned to face us from across the street.

"Professor! Back away! That's Mabel you're talking to! She's evil!"

I scoffed at the statement.

"Your Highness, I know you've travelled Antarctica, but should you judge a puffle just because she's a little... um, arrogant?"

Mabel turned to me. In an almost trembly manner, she spoke.

"You j-j-just c-called h-h-him... y-your highness?"

"Well, yes ma'am. Since he owns a high ranking nobility status, he should be addressed as his title demands. I'm addressed as "Professor", after all. I earned that title, and I am respected for that."

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! HE'S AN UNWORTHY FREAK! A FREAK!"

"Mabel! I am surprised that you would speak to him like that!"

Mabel's stare went blank.

"No. You don't understand. He's my owner. I am forced to live in his home."

"So?"

"So?! SO?! HE'S A FREAK! Do you remember that time, where you went to that igloo, and that ghost appeared in the kitchen?"

I shivered. I never figured out who did that................. or what did that.

"Indeed I do. It was my first paranormal experience, and hopefully, my last. You know, I still wake up screaming in the night when I have nightmares involving that ghost. The worst thing, though, was that I have to leave the light on in the hall. If you know anything about fungi, such as myself, I can only get a great sleep and retain my health when I rest in a damp, shaded environment. I've fallen asleep in a seminar from my lack of sleep."

"Well, allow me to tell you exactly what happened and why."

Explorer screamed from across the street.

"PROFESSOR! DON'T LISTEN TO MABEL! SHE'S BRAINWASHING YOU, SWAYING YOU TOWARD HER EVIL WAYS!! DON'T BECOME A MABEL MINION!!"

I looked at Explorer.

"What in the name of compost are you talking about?! Oh, I see. The December heat must be getting to you."

Mabel called my attention back.

"He's insane! I TOLD YOU! Listen to me, and I will tell you about the ghost."

Hmm... should I listen to a puffle, or a semi-insane penguin monarch who knows what he is talking about, lest he holds a shovel?

I thought. Puffle, insane penguin? Insane penguin, puffle? Um....................

"Professor! LISTEN TO ME! I'M NOT CRAZY! SHE IS EVIL! YOU HAVE MY WORD! I PROMISE, ON ALL THAT ARE UNDER THE FAMILY SPHENISCIDAE, THAT PUFFLE IS EVIL!!!"

Hmm... he gave his word... but then... my mind flashbacked to the day I tried Card-Jitsu.

(**CUE FLASHBACK**) He screamed "HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!! WE WEE HA!!! I gOTzz spAdeZZZZxzz!!!1!!!!1!!! WEE LOL LOLzz!!!"

The last thing I remember is a shovel upside the fruiting body.

I awoke an hour later. Sensei stood over me.

"Are you okay, gentle stir-fry? That was Explorer 767. Talked to, he was. I'm sorry you had to deal with a whack like that. It's not a card, let me assure you." (**Flashback ends**)

"Sweet skillets, that was painful." I said to myself. No, I shall not associate myself with anyone who whacks me with a shovel.

"Sorry Explorer!" I yelled across the road, "You whacked me with a shovel!"

"But-but b-b-but Professor!" Explorer hollered. "I-" Explorer stopped. He lacked an excuse for his shovel slam.

"He hit you with a shovel? He hits everyone with shovels. He's a freak."

"Hmm... Ma'am, you do have a point. Let's walk- I, mean... scoot. I see you move as I."

Mabel smiled.

"Good... now come on. Let's talk about that ghost."

I walked away from Explorer, still recalling that nasty blow to the cap. Better to tust a well groomed furball than a shovel weilding bird... I think.

"So... you really want to know about that ghost?"

I turned around.

"What is it?" Mabel asked.

"Ma'am, I think someone's following me."

I turned around again. Nothing. I thought I saw a flash of blue and a speck of red dash behind a mailbox. Explorer, perhaps? No, I doubt he would follow me. I continued on my way. Yet, I could never shake the feeling I was being watched.

"Anyway. That ghost wasn't paranormal. It was a prank."

I looked at Mabel.

"You mean a purposeful scare and/or annoyance at the expense of others, all designed for merriment by the sick mind who did it on the victim?"

Mabel looked at me like I just spoke in a foreign tounge.

"Um, yes." she responded.

"Tell me, Mabel, who frightened me with the appirition in the mirror?"

"NO! STOP! IT'S A TRAP!"

I recognized that voice. It was Explorer, once more.

He came waddling across the street, right up to where Mabel and I were standing.

Hyperventilating, he tried to speak, but could not.

"Your Highness, I understand you don't like this puffle, but there is no need to get all in a knot about it."

"...Yes...there...is a rea...son...to...be upset about Ma...bel." Explorer gasped, between breaths.

"Your Highness, you are severely dehydrated. Fortunately, my academic experience taught me exactly what to do at a time like this."

Explorer looked at me with big eyes. He turned to a store-front wall, and much to my astonishment, he started speaking to it.

"Fellow readers, I don't like where this is going. Why don't you go get yourselves a drink of water, lest you read on and discover the rest of this unruly plot?"

"What readers? There is no text here! My oh my, you must be hallucinating, talking to a wall like that! You need to get indoors right away!" I shouted.

I had no idea just how bad this situation was.

Reaching into my coat, I checked a thermometer. The temperature was 31.7 Farenheit... whoa!

Chapter Two: HEAT WAVE!
"Explorer! Get indoors now! Your kind should never be out in this heat!"

I remember reading that Antarctic penguins start to have heat problems when the temperature rises near the freezing point. For Antarctica, 31.7 is blistering hot. It could be deadly.

Explorer was getting dizzy. This heat wave was starting to take a toll on the penguin.

"Heat shmeat. Mabel... is... is... is..." Explorer passed out in heat-stroke.

I quickly dragged the fallen bird into a building.

Outside, I saw vans driving through the streets. Bearing the words "Penguin Secret Agency", they had bullhorns attached to their cars, amplifying throughout the town.

"ATTENTION ALL CREATURES!" the PSA Agent screamed.

"BY ORDER OF THE DIRECTOR OF THE PSA AND THE ELITE PENGUIN FORCE, ALL CREATURES ARE TO REMAIN INDOORS. LOCK YOUR WINDOWS AND CRANK UP THE A-C!"

I saw doors being locked, and air conditioners being cranked throughout the neighborhood. Windows were boarded and sirens were blaring. All creatures, great and small, were taking shelter from the blistering "heat" wave. This was unreal. Mabel also fled with me, and Explorer, into a nearby building. Several other penguins chose the same building. We crowded together like sardines. Everyone was taking shelter.

It didn't matter the status of the penguin. I saw that Fever guy (who everyone talks about) crowded next to a non-member. I saw a Beta hat penguin scrunched next to a penguin with nothing but a pin.

Status meant nothing, survival was key in this heat, and this heat was rising.

I turned on a weather radio.

"A massive, dry Subtropical Jet Stream, of which has not been seen in the this continent's existence, has somehow taken a dive from farther north in the Southern Hemisphere, bringing blistering heat. Temperatures are expected to peak at 47 degrees today."

I was rather shocked. In fright, my hat fell to the ground. How could a subtropical jet stream hit Antarctica? If we were at the geographic South Pole... who knows what's happening on the continent's fringes?!

Explorer woke up momentarily and mumbled, "Ooh, a Hadley Cell? No, no, my dear, that's far too northerly, I prefer a Ferrel."

All of a sudden, a random penguin screamed: "WE'RE GOING TO DIE! DIE, BY A CRUEL TWIST OF FATE!"

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and shut back. A tall penguin, cloaked in black, almost floated into the room. He held a large striped Candy Cane in his right flipper.

The room was silent. Ban?!

Yes. It was Ban. The infamous representation of the practice, the Club Penguin Grim Reaper. I cowered among the crowds of birds.

Ban looked around.

"DON'T TAKE ME!" I heard a penguin shout. "I'M DIABETIC!"

""

Great. Now I have to share an emergency shelter with the Grim Reaper, Explorer, and about fifty other spastic penguins.

Then, the ground started to quake. Turtleheimer managed to crawl in (turtles are slow), and the door shut behind him as well. After adjusting to the crowd (and the presence of Ban), he cowered next to me, and withdrew into his shell.

Some steam rose outside, and one building tilted to the right.

"" Ban turned to me. ""

Ban was right. The ground was cracking! The ice caps! They were melting!

Explorer shot up in a snap of insanity. "I SCARE NOTHING! EVEN YOU BECOME NAPKINS! LOOK, GLOBAL WARMING, HEATING THE NOODLES! NO, NOT GLOBAL WARMING, THE PENCIL SAY! WORSE! THERE'S FAX MACHINES AT WORK!"

The heat was really damging Explorer... wait! He was trying to speak a message!

Well, napkins and fax machines had nothing to do with the problem at hand... I bet the noodles Explorer was screaming about is the ground.

Explorer started screaming again.

"BAH!!! NOT SUBLIMATION, LIQUEFACTION, NOODLE!!! I THE PENCIL SPEAK!!! THE NOODLEZ TAKE IN WATER AND GET ALL MUSHY, LIKE NAPKINZ!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHEEHEE!!! FAX MACHINES, DOING US TO IT!"

Fax machines? Maybe he's saying something.

"Tell me more about these Fax Machines."

"YES! MORE TELL! FAX MACHINES, DRIVING MAGIC HOT CREEK IN THE SKY! LEET PLOT, I SAY!"

...I lacked a response.

"OF NON-OFFICE INTENTIONS! FAX MACHINES, THEY WANT OUR FILE CABINETS! HAND YOUR NOODLES! I DEMAND YOUR NOODLES! FAX MACHINES, INK JETTING OUR WORLD! SINK, THE GROUND SINKS! FAX MACHINE LIQUEFICATION!!"

Ban turned to me again.

""

The weather radio grew fuzzy. I bet that the antenna was sinking in the melting ground as well. A signal made it through. It was Aunt Arctic!

"BREAKING NEWS! Temeratures should be rising to about 51 degrees by 3:00 PM this afternoon. Keep on the lookout for air raid sirens. If you hear them, allow me to repeat the drill. If the Air Raid signal is used, a Classified Van will arrive and load one hundred passengers per vehicle, eventually evacuating your area to the Bunker. Should the heat get too extreme, the Bunker will bust. In that case, we'll evacuate to the Bunker Busting Bunker, in which every Antarctic resident will crowd into the megaplex. We have room for about Twelve Million creatures in either bunker, and in emergency cases, we can pack in seven million more, but like sardines."

I was scared.

Sure enough, the Air Raid sirens started. Massive vans bearing a strange logo I had never before seen filed out.

Agents held wallets bearing the same "EPF" logo. Hmm... "EPF". Emergency Prevention Facility, perhaps?

Single file, we entered the vans. The interior was blank white, with nothing on the walls or floor. More agents handed each of us blindfolds.

Ban raised his, um, flipper.

""

The Agent in question was Rookie, I've heard about him. Apparently, he was stupid enough to close a vault that was needed to investigate. Very stupid.

"AAAAHHH!! THE GRIM REAPER! GET THAT CANE AWAY FROM ME! IT'S STICKY! DON'T KILL ME!" Rookie screamed like a schoolgirl and fainted. More agents dragged him off.

Not wanting to question these "EPF" characters, I quickly took off my glasses and put on the blindfold. Other penguins did the same. We sat on the vans, all of us blindfolded, unaware of where the Bunker was.

It was going to be a long ride.

Chapter Three: The Ride
After about a half an hour of talking, screaming, and other panic, someone on our van (of 100) started singing.

It was a little, squeaky voice.

"99 Evil Hackers on the wall, 99 evil hackers! Take one down, slap him like a crazy person, 98 Evil Hackers on the wall!"

Oh no.

Explorer was starting to recover. He fell asleep.

...................................................hours passed.

"49 evil hackers on the wall. 49 evil hackers! Take one down, slap him like a crazy person, 48 evil hackers on the wall!"

"AAAAAHHH!!! MAKE IT STOP!" Explorer screamed. He was back to normal, indeed.

"48 evil hackers on the wall, 48 evil hackers! Take one down, slap him like a crazy person, 47 evil hackers on the wall!"

"FOR THE LOVE IF PANCAKES! SING SOMETHING ELSE! I'VE GOT A SHOVEL!" Explorer whipped out his shovel, but an "EPF" agent swiped it away.

"MY SHOVEL!"

"47 evil hackers on the wall, 47 evil hackers! Take one down, slap him like a crazy person, 46 evil hackers on the wall! EVERYBODY!"

Everyone had stopped singing after fifty one evil hackers were on the wall. It took a lot of endurance to do it that long. I ceased at seventy. Ban stopped at ninety four. Explorer started singing from Aleph-Null...

"Aleph-Null evil hackers on the wall, Aleph-Null evil hackers! Take one down, whack him with a shovel, Aleph-Null evil hackers on the wall! Aleph-Null evil hackers on the wall, Aleph-Null evil hackers! Take one down, smack him with a wrench, Aleph-Null evil hackers on the wall! Aleph-Null evil hackers on the wall, Aleph-Null evil hackers! Take one down, lash him with a wet noodle, Aleph-Null evil hackers on the wall!"

... but then he remembered that it would take an infinite amount of years to complete that version of the song and then stopped at, well... Aleph-Null.

We were bored. Explorer had an idea.

"I know! Let's scream random phrases! You go first!" Explorer pointed to a skinny penguin wearing a lab coat, with brown hair and an arthritic, hunched-over appearence.

He thought a moment. "CURSE YOU PERRY THE PLATYPUS!"

Silence.

"Oooookay." Explorer stated, slightly creeped out. "Now you!" Explorer pointed to another penguin, who was quite chubby and colored orange. I suppose he was a Fever fan.

"PUMPKINS!"

The game continued. Phrases such as "MOM, THEY'RE MAKING A TITLE SEQUENCE!", "I LIKE PIE!", "Lotsa spaghetti!", "Hey hey hey!", "Jolly good, sah!", and millions others continued. Explorer kept talking to the van wall after each and every one. That penguin

Hours and hours and hours......................... I fell asleep. We continued long into the night.

When I awoke, it was 6:00 AM. The vans screeched to a halt.

"WE'RE HERE!" an agent screamed. He stepped out... but the Bunker was halfway into the melting permafrost. Unusable.

"Nix that! Back to the vans! We're heading to the Bunker Busting Bunker!"

Group moaning.

"" Ban shouted. Against the "EPF"'s orders, Ban stood up, lifted his candy cane, and smashed it into the ground. Red and white ripples of light echoed out of it, and after a flash of green light, we were at the Bunker Busting Bunker.

"EVERYONE OUT! You too, high and mighty." one of the "EPF" minions said, having the nerve to call Ban "high and mighty".



We filed into the Bunker Busting Bunker, and much to my astonishment, the "EPF" badge was above its golden door, and was flying on two flags at the top. Several penguins patrolled sentry points on the roof, and the words "Fort Lox" were written on the sides. It was quite a sight to behold... and we were all going to have to live in it until the temperatures dropped back below twenty eight degrees for nine days.

Explorer looked toward me. "Doesn't this place ring a bell?"

It hit me! "Yes! Yes it does! I read about this in my favorite book, "Conspiricy Theories for Conspiring Creatures". I got it from SnellBook last year. I liked it so much that I bought it from the Snell-Libros."

Explorer sighed. "No. I was thinking that this was a cheap parody of Fort Knox, and that some kind of climax was going to occur here."

"Are you sure you're back to normal... if there is normal in you?" I questioned... Explorer started talking to the wall again. Insane.

Chapter Four: Fort, Sweet Fort
As Fort Lox slowly filled with new residents, we were all directed to an auditorium, where we were going to be "instructed" on how to live.

A PSA Agent walked up to the podium. Adjusting the microphone, he began. He spoke in a rather high, squeaky voice.

"All right, worthless scum. I am Deputy George II, Penguin Secret Agent in Training. You are offi-"

An "EPF" walked up to George II.

"George, they're not criminals."

"THEY'RE NOT?" George screamed over the microphone. Speaker feedback made us all cringe.

"No, they're under lock down due to excessive heat."

George turned back to us.

"OKAY, REFUGEES! HERE AT THE ROCK, WE HAVE TWO BASIC RULES. ONE. FOLLOW ALL THE RULES. TWO. DO NOT WRITE ON THE WALLS, AS IT IS HARD TP GET WRITING OFF THE WALLS.

Everyone stared blankly at George.

"AND IF ANY OF YOU ARE CAUGHT WITH PANSIES, NIP THEM IN THE BUD! I AM ALLERGIC TO PANSIES, AND I WILL NOT TOLERATE PANSIES! DISMISSED!"

Deputy George II saluted, and we just sat there...................... and sat there.............. and sat there...........

Explorer turned to the nearest wall.

"Is it just me, or does that remind me of something familiar"...?"

That penguin... he makes me want to nip him in the bud...... wait. WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!

I hate Fort Lox.

Long had the days of outdoors passed.

Thankfully, we had things for amusement. Since Fort Lox was highly classified and everyone now knew of it, we could tour it in its entirety.

We saw amazing things.... since I'm locked in here, I'll write them.

Our tour guide put on his question mark cap and walked us through, without EPF permission.

< Explorer and fellow readers, feel free to add more. >

"To your right, you can see the Alien, from the Ross-Well Iceberg Collision. Seriously. No Stage Planet Y there."

"OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH." the crowd murmured.

The creature looked like a human, but it was dressed in some of the thickest fur I had ever seen. It may have been a parka... but it was too skinny to be a penguin....... creepy. The Sapie Brothers looked at it too... "ERNEST SHACKLETON?!" was their comment.

"To the right, you can see the "Eager Diamond". It's a legendary CyberGem that apparently carries a horrific curse. In fact, the delivery penguin who brought it to Fort Lox crashed his van, and was forced to ride with it in the back of a moving band..... with a sitar quintet. To add insult to injury, the bad luck allowed the Sitar quintet to obtain their Big Break, and they now tour the continent as the " Twangs ". Want their CD?"

The guide sneered.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! SITARS!!!!!!!!!!!!" We all screamed... in unison. When the Dorkugese squealed, their nerd voices cracked a chandelier.

Explorer turned to the Diamond and spoke to those nonexistent readers. "Wow... isn't that such a common running gag, the old voice-caused chandelier shatter? In fact, it's more of a cliche! Oh, and that 'Ross-Well Iceberg Collision' is such a cheap parody."

We turned into another room.

Here is the legendary Crystal Pelvis, which-

Penguin Micro interrupted.

"Di-d-d-di-d-d-did you s-say Crys-cr-crystal P-pel-pelvis?"

We looked at Penguin Micro.

"Th-the Pelvis was my fa-fa-ther's prized p-possession, he used it to c-call down curses on b-b-b-bad p-p-people wh-who were cruel t-to his family. When c-c-cursed, d-dishpans fell on p-people's h-heads."



"KICK 'EM IN THE DISHPAN, WHOO WHOO WHOO!" Barkjon exclaimed, randomly.

"He carved-d it out of a s-s-solid piece of quartz in s-seven days, and left it t-to the G-g-g-gov-government on his death b-b-bed, saying it should n-n-never fall into the w-wr-w-wrong hands. One time, I was c-caught in its b-bl-blast. It's curse is why I was h-h-hit by the Death that Looms Over o-u-our heads."

Explorer commented toward the wall. "Dude, or dudes (or dudes/dudettes)... I have a creepy feeling that the author has watched Indiana Jones and the-- whoa! I nearly revealed the parody there, didn't I?"

Don't you mean "Alaska Scones and the Search for the Golden Puffle?", I thought. It was a very popular play.

"Professor," Explorer suddenly said as he turned away from the wall and towards me, "now is not the time to make silly remarks about plays. I have a feeling this plot is about to get rough."

The guy is insane, I thought. What happened next was unexpected.

Explorer turned back to the wall and said, "Did you read him think that? Gosh... it would be nice if these poor, uniformed creatures knew of the rest of this unruly plot. I don't even know why I signed up to be in this story in the first place. Insane? I'll show him insane..." Explorer went off, mumbling.

"EX-EX-EXPLORER!!!!" Penguin Micro screamed. "DON'T TALK TO D-DEATH!"

"" Ban responded.

"Ooooooohhh." the crowd was impressed.

"Okay. Turn right, and you'll see all of the-"

An "EPF" Agent turned to the tour guide.

"Where did you learn all of this, and why are you showing everyone RSnail's Platinum Ingot vault?"

The tour guide gulped. "I DIDN'T WIRE-TAP YOUR PHONES!"

The Agent nodded. "Good to know. If you did, you'd be crushed like a snowball in a greenhouse."

"TOUR DISMISSED!"

"Wait!" I said. What's that?



"That is the driving force behind the Airing Jet Current, the Move-anator. It was courteously built by "Doof and Smirtz Evil Incorporated"."

"Evil?"

"Reformed evil. He's good now. We scanned him. He's over there." the guide pointed to Doof-N-Smirtz, who happened to be the same penguin who screamed "CURSE YOU PERRY THE PLATYPUS" on the van. He waved.

Explorer turned to the wall again.

"That's Phineas and Ferb. THERE! I SAID IT!"

Day one came to a close, and I just might lose it.

Chapter Five: The Wall Whisperer
After several days in Fort Lox, I was having trouble with my own mind. I'm writing in this journal like I need it to live. As a mushroom, I can't be too crowded; my kind can only have so little space! I'll turn to an old hobby of mine.

I play the pipe organ.

Explorer turned to the wall as I just wrote my thoughts.

"Fellow readers, how can Shroomsky play the pipe organ? Where does he have one? Is he watching me?"

Explorer turned around. Oh, yes. I was watching him. Staring him down. STARING. Thankfully, he can't read my journal. If he could, he would be rather annoyed at what I write, and the fact that I write about writing.

"I AM ANNOYED!" Explorer shouted just then. "YOUR JOURNAL AND YOUR WRITINGS ARE STUPID!!"

"AND YOU CAME FROM AN EGG!" I snapped back.

"AND YOU'RE A CLONE OF JOE MAMA!" Explorer retorted.

He always brought that up. He just never gets tired of that "Joe Mama" thing.

Of course I'm a clone of my mother! At least, in a DNA sort of way. That's why all mushrooms look alike. One mushroom makes spores, which are like seeds, but more... um, fungus-y, and those spores grow into mini-mushrooms who- wait, why am I writing about spores?

Mushroom sticks! I broke my pencil! AND I WROTE ABOUT BREAKING MY PENCIL WITH MY OTHER PENCIL!

I turned back to my journal. Fortunately, since my journal is safe from Explorer's psychic mind-.

I blinked.

"Wait." I said to myself, aloud. "Physic? Impossible! If Explorer is physic, may ARMS grow on me RIGHT NOW!"

I waited. No arms. Good. I'm not crazy. Explorer's not physic. That wall is his friend. He talks to walls, just as I write every single piece of dialogue and events that happen. They're all idiosyncrasies. Just crazy little habits. If I just keep telling myself that, sooner or later, I'll believe it. Quite.

I felt better.

So, I turned back to my journal... when I realized just how weird of a character I myself was. I write everything I see and hear in my journal! I need another hobby! I'M WRITING ABOUT WRITING ON MY THOUGHTS OF WRITING IN MY JOURNAL! Sweet paradoxical skillets! I must get to that organ!

Explorer talked to the wall. I scooted off, attempting to ignore it. Other creatures were staring at Explorer by now, finding his wall-talk entertaining.

I turned and took out my player card. Shaking it a little, the pipe organ fell out. It almost broke too. I should definitely be more careful where I hold the player card, which has physics that even Fred can not understand. I mean, you can store furniture in it, or fish, or sombreros....... there I go again. Rambling and writing everything in my little journal.

Explorer, across the large white room, was still talking to the wall. A lot of other penguins were mocking him. I could make out the shrill voice of a Dorkugese penguin saying "What's the wall saying?"

Explorer was weird. He's a good friend, but he was weird.

Turning to the organ, I decided to play a little song. I won't even begin to explain how I can play a keyboarded instrument, so I'll just write this. I do it the same way I pick up items. With my mind. I'm awesome like that.

Turtleheimer came up, just as I was about to play the first note.

"Hello Shroom!" Turtleheimer smiled his toothless turtle grin. Turtles don't have teeth, but neither do penguins. I smiled. I will definitely use that the next time Explorer and I get into our insult spats.

I responded to his salutation.

"Is Explorer bugging you?"

"Yes. He brought up the whole spore thing again."

"Don't worry about it, Professor. He's weird like that. Are you writing everything I say in that journal?"

"Maybe."

"Oh well, it's better than talking to a slab of concrete."

"That is true, my chelonian friend. Thank you. That makes me feel a lot better."

"So, what are you playing?"

"Well, I was going to play " Old Folks at Home ", but Explorer will probably make some stupid comment to his little WALL friend over there! Friend, I have have the nerve to fry myself on a skillet because of that penguin. Someone as smart as Explorer obviously has a reason for talking to a structure, and I MUST KNOW WHAT IT IS!"

I was mad again. I screamed at Explorer.

"HEY! NER-DO-WELL! I'M GOING TO PLAY OLD FOLKS AT HOME ON THE PIPE ORGAN! WHAT DOES YOUR WALL THINK?!"

Turtleheimer turned to me.

"Professor Shroomsky! Stop! You're making a spectacle of yourself!"

"ME?!" I hollered across the fort. "I'M A SPECTACLE! YES! HOW ABOUT YOU, MISTER WALL?! WHAT DO YOU THINK?! I THINK YOU'RE CRAZY!!!!!! THERE IS NO AUDIENCE IN THAT WALL! OR THAT WALL! OR THE VAN!!!! OR THE EAGER DIAMOND! STOP TALKING TO THE WALL OR I WILL CALL A DOCTOR!" I shouted at Explorer.

Explorer talked to the wall again.

"You know, I could take a giant pencil and erase that mushroom with my awesome Fourth Wall powers, but I have a better idea."

I snapped.

"WELL, I'M GOING TO PLAY OLD FOLKS AT HOME NOW! HAVE FUN WITH YOUR RIDICULOUS LITTLE WALL FRIEND! BECAUSE YOUR WALL ENJOYS YOUR COMPANY BECAUSE IT'S A WALL AND IF YOU HAD THE WALL SENSE TO TO SEE THAT YOU'RE TALKING TO A WALL, MAYBE YOU WOULD WALL THE FACT THAT I AM NOT A WALL! IN FACT, THAT WALL IS STUPID! SO I'VE HAD IT WITH YOUR WALL!!! HA HA HA HA!!!!!"

I started banging out "Night on Bald Mountain" on the organ.

After an hour of organ-playing madness, I regained my sanity and Explorer stopped talking to his WALL.

"Turtleheimer?"

"Yes?"

"Please refrain from saying w-w-wall to me. Please say..."

I thought for a moment. I made up a word.

"Say goozack."

"What?"

"Goozack. A fictional conglomeration of letters which lack a true definition. Pronounced "Goo Zack"."

"Okay. If it makes you feel better." Turtleheimer responded with a smile.

Explorer talked to the wa-... goozack for a moment.

I watched in curiosity as Explorer turned to the Move-anator and smirked. Something was brewing in his twisted little mind... I better keep an eye on him.

"HEY! I HEARD THAT!" Explorer turned to me, pointing his flipper.

"HOW COULD YOU HERE ME?! I WAS WRITING IN MY JOURNAL WHEN YOU SCREAMED!" I held up my little notebook and its respective pen as proof. "SEE?! SEE?! NOW TURN BACK TO YOUR GOOZACK AND TALK TO IT!!"

I calmed down a little. I was going to get Explorer at his own mystic game. Deducing it as a paranormality, I tried a trick I learned from my professor when I was but a youth...

I remember his exact words...... "When y'all gots a spook in yer room, get ya self a vacuum and suck it out!"

Accent aside, it was exactly what I was going to do. I am going to blind him with science... or at least, with a vacuum cleaner.

I turned and screamed at Explorer's goozack.

"WHO ARE YOU GOING TO CALL, YOU SLAB OF CONCRETE?!"

Explorer looked at me, slightly frightened. I shouldn't have screamed at Explorer's goozack. That is weird. He does that already. It may ruin my plan. Nevertheless, I'm going to do it.

I may drop to a 3.97 on my lifetime GPA, but I shall annialate Explorer's little goozack friend.

First, however, I need to sleep. It's getting late, and I need sanity for tomorrow.

So ends day eight at Fort Lox. I put up my journal.

TO BE CONTINUED!!