27 Oct

The Tale of a Tragedy Turned Delicious

(Names, places, details, and facts have all been changed, twisted, messed up, made up, contorted, exaggerated, and possibly doused with butter, as I see fit. Thus protecting the innocent, leaving no trail to find the guilty, and keeping all involved parties from embarrassment.)

Way Up North where there’s ice and there’s snow, there was a college. ‘Twas a college with a dorm. ‘Twas a dorm of female inhabitants. And in this Way Up Northern establishment was a female inhabitant named Schizophranna. And said inhabitant is the only true character of importance in this story.

Saturday. Today was the open house for the dorm since it had just reached absolute completion. Dozens and perhaps hundreds of people meandered through the halls of the new dorm in the morning and early afternoon hours. Through the kitchen meandered they. Into  the individual dorm rooms meandered they. And at long last, out the front door meandered the final guest. The open house closed, and the relieved dorm inhabitants resumed their posts.

With a sigh, Schizophranna closed the door behind said final guest and delved into the books. In her studies of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, Schizophranna felt a pang of hunger deep in the recesses of her stomach. Such a pang must be remedied. Schizophranna leapt from her studying post in the dorm’s parlor. With a skip and a scurry, she made her way to the kitchen with a bag of popcorn in hand.

Whilst the microwave worked wonders on the bag of corn, Schizophranna left the unoccupied kitchen to ensure that her dorm room was intact. After all, there was no need for Way Up Northern scruff to have been rooting through her things.

Upon the gentle breeze brought by the dorm vents came wafting a swirly gray whiff.

Not one to panic too freakishly, Schizophranna schlepped into the kitchen. Here, dark clouds of fury emanated from the microwave. *emanate, emanate* Also not one to have a good head on one’s shoulders, Schizophranna schlepped away from the kitchen and encountered Mz. Liz.

At the moment of this encounter, an alarm sounded. It sounded like a small child wailing for another gumdrop, please, mom, pleeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEase?! You get the idea.

Every dorm inhabitant was ordered from the premises. Some were ordered by Mz. Liz. Others were ordered by their common sense which told them to get away from the wailing alarm and the billowing smoke.

And then the seemingly-unthinkable happened. A nearby building began smoking. Likewise the building beside that. Throughout the region of the Way Up North, buildings began pouring out smoke through their windows and under their doors until every building was affected.

By this time, fire trucks had arrived at the scene of Schizophranna’s college, summoned by the alarm whose wails had finally died down to pathetic whimpers due to suffocating batteries. Firefighters tumbled from their posts in the truck and circled the dorm which was now engulfed in smoke. Although Mz. Liz reassured them that all the dorm inhabitants had fled the immediate scene, Chief Firefighter Filemon had to see it for himself and he entered the same front door that the open-house guests had meandered through only a few hours before.

The remainder of the firefighters remained outside the dorm with Mz. Liz and Schizophranna. Such hullabaloo ensued with inquiry upon inquiry of the origin of the smoke!

And then….

…a deafening POP!

And then…

…deafening silence.

Not a single breath was breathed, nor was a single word uttered. Schizophranna pulled a Swiss Army knife from her handy-dandy apron pocket and sliced the thick air with it.

A breathy huff was heard from within the building, and Chief Firefighter Filemon emerged from the smoke. Time itself froze, and the orchestra on the front lawn of the dorm commenced playing “Enter the Heroes” from Monsters, Inc, with Monsieur Mink on the trumpet.

All necks craned and eyes strained to see what Chief Firefighter Filemon held so protectively in his hand. Was it the head of the dorm inhabitant who disobeyed orders? Was it the whimpering alarm? No! *trumpet blaring* It was Schizophranna’s bag of popcorn!

Chief Firefighter Filemon carefully placed his fingers on the top of the popcorn bag and successfully “pulled here.” *vivacious violining* With a skilled hand worthy of his chiefdom, he reached into the bag and pulled out a perfectly popped, perfectly buttered morsel of corn. Being the only kernel in the bag, it had grown to the size of a watermelon. With every soul on the college campus watching breathlessly, Chief Firefighter Filemon placed the popped corn between his horribly misshapen buck teeth. *cymbals clashing* As he bit off a morsel victoriously, the smoke unbillowed from the atmosphere and came under control, in this building and every other in the Way North.

A second bit of corn was gnawed off in like fashion. “Delectable! As was the first!” cried he. (c) Brian Regan

Schizophranna was lauded for her popcorn chef-ery, Mz. Liz was back-patted for her bravery, and Chief Firefighter Filemon shared the popcorn with his firefighting cohorts while Monsieur Mink messed up on the last note of his trumpet solo.


One Response to “Pop”


  1. Merry Pop (the sequel) « Achoo! - December 26, 2010

    […] story is based on more fact than its predecessor, Pop. The following events actually transpired to, and in the near vicinity of, the author and can be […]

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