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Muffin and Knob's Special Adventure
Muffin and Knob's Special Adventure
Muffin and Knob's Special Adventure
Ebook45 pages39 minutes

Muffin and Knob's Special Adventure

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Planet Earthphat: Year 2050 - Muffin & Knob undertake a dangerous mission given to them by Lord Plebe to save the world from super-cocky roaches that have survived a nuclear war. They get up to their ears in espionage endeavors, surviving with only hot sauce, carpet tacks, a gas can with a hole in it and a pair of sunglasses with only one lens in order to rescue a Princess, with surprisingly comic results.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 23, 2015
ISBN9781310012532
Muffin and Knob's Special Adventure
Author

William A. Patrick III

William A. Patrick III resides in Tustin, CA, and travels with Linder.

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    Muffin and Knob's Special Adventure - William A. Patrick III

    MUFFIN AND KNOB’S SPECIAL ADVENTURE

    ###

    By William A. Patrick III

    Copyright © 2015 by William A. Patrick III.

    Published by William A Patrick III at Smashwords. Smashwords Edition

    All rights reserved. Any similarity between persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

    ###

    ###

    EARTHPHAT, THIRD PLANET FROM THE SUN, YEAR 2050

    FIVE YEARS AFTER NUCLEAR WORLD-WAR-IV

    CHAPTER 1

    A lone drop of sweat, vainly trying to provide relief from the heat, slowly made its way from her forelock to the waddle on her neck.

    Watch it, Knob screamed. She scolded her friend, Muffin, as they spiraled up the last few splintery ladder rungs to the eightieth floor of the East-Bay-Yacht-Club Slaughterhouse. Muffin had hit Knob’s heel with her cherry-glossed bottom lip. The smallish, mousy, 300-pound Muffin quickly apologized and vowed then and there to lose weight. The door in front of the two gals was nothing more than a large porthole with a cracked glass hanging on rusty hinges. In carefully scripted crayon it read: EBYC-Slutrhos. …we must be very careful… Knob breathed and then coughed up a green bean.

    Inside the EBYC-S it was dark and foreboding, much like David Hasselmof’s hair in a show called something like Might Rider, Knob mused. Then, to her astonishment, she noted a distinct lack of Yachts in the club. More like East-Bay-Spider-Web-Club, Knobby whispered to herself. Muffin thought she was being spoken to and burped,

    …especially on Tuesdays, sir…

    Both girls squeezed through the tight orifice and hopped ungracefully onto the slick, greasy, visitor landing.

    I mean, blood and Jello pudding and body parts are all over the place… on the floor, even. Knob’s voice quivered through a thick haze of ludes and orange duct tape. She stopped at the travel catwalk and vomited - never eat Lucky Charms before visiting a slaughterhouse - she reminded herself. We don’t have to go in right away, Knob told the shuddering, shivering Muffin, if you need to take another huge dump… maybe do it before we go in… Muffin, as always, just shrugged and coughed twenty times. A little bit of spittle hit Knob on her cheek, on which she whacked at furiously, like it was plutonium, which is was, at least to her.

    They made their way past rows of rotting, rickety coffins, red hots and dead groundhogs and up a long expanse of steps and onto the ninetieth floor launch-pad. The animals below, mired in the foot-thick chocolate, temporarily suspended their coitus endeavors to stare at them longingly. Knob stopped at the door and let rip a huge gas balloon that sent splatters through her mesh cargo pants and onto Muffin’s face.

    Knob paused before the entrance portal to the Alternate Universe, which was labeled ‘office’. She waved her hands and said, Ab Bar Ra Cadaver. As usual, nothing happened. We have to go in, so… she pushed the door open. The door, unlocked, opened. …what… lords-to-be… WHAT... WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?

    …it’s a disgusting, vile heap of diseased cells - a horrid miscarriage of Mother Nature’s creation of… is that a… man? Muffin mumbled.

    …and it’s wearing a Howard Cossell like hair piece… IT’S HIDEOUS!!!

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