I wrote this in August 1992. It makes just as much sense today.

UGGLE

by
James "Kibo" Parry

"Uggle," said Spot.

"What?" said the audience in unison, leaning forward in their seats. Spot began to sweat under the hot auditorium lights. He cleared his throat and tried to resume his speech on the quantitative assay of celery strings.

"Vognob blemp," said Spot. Oh no! thought Spot. I've started barking in tongues again! The last time this had happened, his chum Terlie the Toad had taken cruel advantage of Spot, much to his embarrassment. Well, Terlie's not here, so at least I can't be embarrassed!

"Plomux," said Spot as the audience of dignified celericians began to throw rotten vegetables at him. Most of them were celery. One was a stick of celery filled with peanut butter and decorated with a row of raisins, which was a snack called "Ants Climbing A Log", Spot's favorite, or it would have been if it wasn't moldy and squishy. Spot was soon covered with decaying produce.

"Zxcvbnm!" wailed Spot in tears. The audience had no sympathy. Some of the celericians had come on stage to senselessly kick Spot senseless. Soon, audience and dog alike were senseless, and they all stumbled home. Some were run over by fire trucks, being unable to hear the siren or see the flashing lights. Spot made it home okay, though he couldn't really tell, being senseless and all. He flopped down on where he estimated the bed was and wondered if he'd missed.

Slowly but surely, Spot's sight and hearing came back. He was indeed in his bedroom. Some bits of the rotten celery had taken root in his fur, so he tweezed them out and flushed them. The phone rang.

"Hello, this is Wendy Anson from WWCS radio, the all-Christmas Carol station! If you can identify the following tune, you win ten thousand dollars!" The phone began to play "Jingle Bells." With the lyrics.

Spot thought for a moment. The tune was oddly familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Was it "Turkey in the Straw"? Beethoven's Ninth? "Shaft"? Time was running out! At the last possible second, the answer came to Spot.

"Wubjuk glonk!" he barked.

"No, I'm sorry, it was 'Jingle Bells'. You lose the $10,000. Please present us with a check for the amount by the morning or we'll sue. Bye!" She hung up.

Spot cursed his cursed tongue. He tried to curse a blue streak, but it came out a gross shade of avocado-pink. Finally, in desperation, he ripped out his tongue with pliers and stitched in a prosthetic one made from plastic.

He tried to look into the mirror to see if it was installed correctly, but his face smashed into it! He slammed against the far wall and then bashed his head on the cast-iron stove repeatedly. What's wrong with me? he wondered. Poor Spot didn't realize that his new tongue was made of high-impact polystyrene! His tongue pulled him across the room and his face went through the TV screen.

Little electrically-charged stars and birdies and squiggles raced around Spot's head, which was now encased by shattered glass and high-voltage television parts. A shock went through him from ear to ear, and suddenly, he saw every channel simultaneously.

Lucille Ball fell into a vat of bugs. Larry and Balki were standing on a window ledge trying to shoot the President because Balki mailed the wrong envelope. Bob Saget laughed at a guy who took a wrecking ball in the crotch. Murphy Brown bit her secretary. Allen Funt wouldn't go away, and Vanna White was wearing a sequined glob of Lycra. It was too much, too fast, too stupid! Spot screamed and tried to pull his head out of the picture tube, but there was no use. Tony Danza and Scott Baio continued their bare-knuckle boxing match, while Mr. Rogers ate paste. Spot wished he were still senseless.

"Wish? Did somebody say wish?" said Jambi the Genie, appearing in a "Pee-wee's Playhouse" rerun.

"I wxsh thxt chwob fnim erlop wonk!" yapped Spot.

"Your wish is granted! Long live Jambi!" said the genie, returning to his box. Now Spot was chwob fnimmed erlop wonk! He cried in garbled silence.

Meanwhile, Laverne and Shirley threw erlop wonk at each other.

THE END

Copyright © 1992 James "Kibo" Parry