Pink Skull Pants of Love, Activate!


You reflect that you really should have gone on that trip to Shang Simla in high school. But, well, there was a raging party that weekend and chicks > trips.

It can’t be that hard. You’ve watched plenty of ninja movies, after all. You concentrate really really hard, but after a few minutes you’re still standing in the same place and now you have a headache.

Jog to the gym. You have your workout clothes with you, why not?

You slap your head. Of course, duh, why didn’t you think of that? You could have just spun into a different outfit whenever you wanted.

Gunky Spin!

The sand goes flying. You feel refreshed, you feel sparkly, you feel…

skull pants of doom!!!

pink and skull-y and manly! Rawr!

You set off for the gym.

As you are walking/jogging to gym, you begin to wonder if maybe becoming a fisherman or gardner or collector isn’t a better idea. Who wants to fetch coffee anyway… nah – beneath you. You’ve heard of the amounts of money involved in these “alternative” job markets and besides, who are you to deprive your town of the constant sight of sparkly man abs?

Okay, so there are risks in the carrot-selling business. But you are not a man to be tied to a desk. You could just dabble a bit in carrots and then supplement your income with gardening and fish and mailing off pretty rocks. And, bonus – you could collect said pretty rocks in your current outfit, which is a total babe magnet. It’s even better than a three wolf moon shirt.

But those child support payments are coming due really soon. You can quit and go into business for yourself after your financial situation stabilizes.

You decide to walk to the community pool instead because it is closer–you’ll show up in your swimsuit, and if you’re still wet then your abs will be sorta glittery, but in a more natural way. Maybe by then the magical wishing cabs will start working again?

take a quick dip in the community pool, show up with man-abs glistening instead of potentially glittery.

Unless…are you a kleptomaniac? If so, just run across the street and “borrow” someone’s car.

The pool is even closer than the gym. And the Cyclone of Flying Clothes did not get rid of all the sand. There’s still some left in…unfortunate places. So, a quick dip in the pool, which maybe, just maybe there’s some glitter there, and then you can stroll into Doo Peas all wet and glistening and bare-chested. The girls will be all over you. Girlfriend #6, here you come!

You jog along the empty and silent street, daydreaming about sparkly abs and women driven mad by lust. The entrancing pictures disappear when the itch suddenly returns. Your ears are on fire.

Scratch your ears!

You stop and scratch your ears, but it doesn’t help. You keep scratching and scratching and you’re afraid of drawing blood, which would really ruin the whole sparkly manly pink skull pants of love image and the sand has worked its way into really truly unfortunate places and you just want this all to stop already and you want to go to work and you want to find Girlfriend #6 and it’s hot and you’re tired and what is that shiny thing in the corner of your eye?

Your hand falls to your side. Your ears are still raging, but you’re not paying attention.

There is a gleaming black Margaret Vaguester on the road in front of you. You covet its sleek curves, its tight steering, its round tires, its ability to go much faster than you can jog.

You look around to see if anyone is watching. The street is as empty as it’s been ever since you woke up.

You edge closer to the car. You’re not generally a klepto, but desperate times and all that.

You reach for the handle, mentally crossing your fingers and hoping it’s not locked. Please don’t let it be locked.

It’s not locked.

It’s also not empty.

At first you thought the interior was red leather, but no…no, it’s not.

You fall to your knees and retch. You will never complain about your ears itching again. You love the itch. You want to marry the itch, maybe have little itch babies.

Behind you, the pair of ears hanging from the Vaguester’s rearview mirror swing gently in the breeze. They’re all that’s left to identify the driver as human.

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9 Responses to Pink Skull Pants of Love, Activate!

  1. raquelaroden says:

    Whoa. That’s a bad break indeed…

    You realize your fingerprints are now on the car (and if you puked…a decent amount of your saliva too), so you seem to have one of two options: either you call the police and wait to meet them so they know you discovered the er….situation and are on the up and up, or you clean off your fingerprints and get rid of the evidence of your presence as quickly as possible and run away.


  2. kaldresh says:

    The carrot-selling business must *really* be rough – kids are leaving “messages” with ears hanging from rearview mirrors? Too much TV, that’s what.

    So he decides to leave the sand where it is – he can try to clean up a little in the bathroom at work. Backing away from the car, he runs to work hoping he can get through the day without anyone noticing the smell of his breath or the sandy itch in his very manly pink skull pants of love.


  3. Jessie says:

    Call the cops! But in an anonymous way of doing things. Then have a quick shower at the pool or gym and go to work….Then quit and evacuate the country for a while…Like Egypt or CHina….Payments cant find you there and therer are some very valuable minerals and stones that can be sold for ALOT of money. Not to mention tombs and relics…


  4. Kat says:

    Flirt with the driver, who care’s if it’s a guy or a girl…you need that car!


  5. mountainshade1 says:

    Heh; “have little itch babies”.

    Punching (and getting punched by) Xander Clavell at a beach party is one thing, it’s a man thing – a Jack-the-lad thing; dealing with a pair of bloody ears however – even if they are located in a very attractive Vaguester, is quite another. You can’t get involved in this sort of stuff; you have responsibilities! (and you are a coward) You are the man with the plan; with the coffee and cake for Iliana, with the twenty four pack, with the lucky 5 still to woo and with the sand up your… (well, we won’t go there).
    So you scramble away from the Vaguester, furtively checking up and down the road (there was an old lady out in her garden, but you don’t think she’s seen you) and simply run away as fast as you can.

    (Hey Misty, hope I did this right)


  6. DB loves her Mac says:

    Hey, no blood on the pink skulls of love! Totally ruins the babe-o-vibe! Leave something near the car to incriminate the OTHER Gilscarbo, then beat a hasty retreat to… anywhere far away. How far away can you go without technically leaving town? Isn’t there a waterfall somewhere around?



  7. medleymisty says:

    All right, calling the commands on this one. I want to finish the book I’m reading before getting started on the update, though.

    Also, I just want to say that you guys rock and that I love you all. 🙂


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