The prompt words for the contest are as follows:
The contest opened yesterday while you were off doing something like
writing a novel.
And it closes in five minutes.
I lose again.
Sam the blidgertoppoer squarerootofpied his flogistan. But then his quertymc typebyted right in his face.
The ole blidger top po’er wounded the square root of pi by dividing it within the
querty mctype byte while vacationing in Flogistan.
What a spurtle!
Janet have you had your coffee yet?
Klingon, excellent...I'm fludggering fluent in Klingon!
From her hospital bed, Amanda spurtled out “Blidgertoppor!”
“What’s wrong with her?” her husband Eddie asked the doc.
“We’re not sure. Still running tests.”
“Is your wife a mathematician?” the doc asked.
“No, I have no idea why she’s saying that.”
“Querty? Like in keyboard?”
Just then a nurse entered the room and handed Dr. Wier some papers.
“The tests are in," he said. "Your wife is suffering from information overload.
Keep her away from the Internet, TV, and all books for at least a month.
She’ll eventually recover.”
Omg, I thought wtf! Then I realized what day it was. You got me.
Oh yes, it's that day! Crawling under a rock until it stops. Maybe, with luck, my 8 AM meeting in the break room is an April Fool's joke as well. We can only hope.
I'm going back to bed!
Tom stared at the screen through the bars, reading what his primate warden, Marcus, had written.
“ Blidgertoppoer squarerootofpi flogistan quertymctypebyte spurtle”
Damn, he thought, the quality of writing really took a nose dive since the apes’ uprising. Marcus screeched and banged some more keys, while training a menacing eye on Tom.
Tom grunted and went back to studying the etchings he had carved on the floor of his cell. An escape route he was now sure would never be deciphered. Ten hours until freedom.
Meanwhile, somewhere else in the compound, a message was decrypted. “This idiot thinks he’s escaping.”
Eh, I tried. Happy April Fools!
APRIL FOOLS! (good one I might add)
You had me at blidgertopper, squarerootofpi, or maybe it was quertymctypebyte. No. It was spurtle. Definitely spurtle. Which is what happened to my coffee when I read this.
The spurtle of ocean spray against the prow of the steamship was enough to soak Gulliver, but he didn′t care. The crow′s nest cried "Land!" as the blidgertoppoer came into view, winking in the morning sunlight.
After all of his travels, Flogistan was where he finally took his wife and hung his hat. The people were not too big, or small, or horses. Nobody cared how you ate your eggs. The land was kept peaceful by the yearly quertymctypebyte, where everybody got together in the squarerootofpi and aired their grievances.
Gulliver was home now, having finally made his fortune.
“I see you’re wearing that blidger top: P o’er the Bridge.”
“It’s an odd shape, but better than last year’s.”
“Square Root of Pi?”
“That’s the one. I strained my flogistan putting that on.”
“Was that a Querty McTypebyte?”
“Don’t make me spurtle! McTypebyte couldn’t cut his way out of a paper bag!”
“Runway in three minutes, Nora.”
“Gah! I can’t believe it!”
“Only two arm holes! Clearly designed by a human. Speciesist!”
“You’re a Polymorph. Just lose an arm.”
“But it’s undignified, denying my true form.”
“At least you don’t have to wear a Shih Tzu!”
Oh Janet, that's HILARIOUS!!
Thanks - I haven't laughed like that in ages!!!
Have a wonderful April 1st. I'm off to bed.
The crowd applauds politely as April takes the mic and regales us with her award=winning tale.
"Floggy the flog is tan. He goes in water spurt less because he is a nanimal. He eats the square root of pie. His BEST friend is a typeulater named Quertymctypebyte. Quertymctypebyte typed Floggy’s favlit books until he topped oer and bloke. His blidger topp oer too. He asked Floggy for help. Floggy hopped on him. Quertymctypebyte topped up again. He was fixed. The end.”
Grinning, I join the fool's standing ovation. My niece might not be Hemingway, but she's got Kindergarten chops.
Awww...too late to ENTER? Rats.
It's early. I haven't made coffee yet, so this is a poor effort, but the spirit is there.
Hahaha Miss Janet
"It's a blidger top, po-er girl.
To keep your blidger from a swirl."
"But how to use it?" I asked her,
"To keep the swirling from my blidger?"
"Why it's just the square root of pi,"
she said with twinkle in her eye.
"Oh, mercy, ma'am! Send me to Flogistan,
but do not ask for math again."
"Get your flirty, querty. MC type, Byte.
No weak MC, one fit for fight.
"A stellar first line, then a second,"
she smiled at me and boldly beckoned.
"Write quickly, nimbly, or like a turtle.
Flip them, flop them, with your spurtle.
"Words upon words, worlds within worlds,
Magic hidden and then unfurled.
"Loose the blidger, let it twirl,
but never ask for mercy, girl.
"I deal in worlds where dreams are spawned.
and rise into the great beyond."
"Pray tell, madam, what is your name?
I sense about you mists of fame."
"Some call me saint, some say torment,
but you may call me Super Agent."
“I cwaim dis wand in the name uv Flogistan! Long liwve the floggies!”
Wendell planted a stick and flapping leaf into the mucky water and cheered on the frogs. At least he thought he did. The anesthesia from the dentist’s office kept him pretty loopy.
“Uh uh ah, Misder Spurtle. Only floggies allowed here. Squarer! Oot of pi land. Shoo!”
The turtle just stared. The squirrel fled. By waving his arms, the sticks connecting lily pads tipped over. “Oh no. Blidger toppoer.”
Wendell’s tongue felt larger. Nothing made sense. “Quertymctypebite.” Just babble now. Ugh. No dentists allowed in glorious Flogistan.
Dang - I was determined to enter every contest this year, and I missed this one! I can't believe I blew my resolution already, and it's only ... wait ... never mind.
Happy April Fool's, Janet! And happy FRIDAY, too. This week has *earned* a weekend.
I think quertymctypebyte may be Gossamer TEC's new nickname.
It was a grey morning. The waves spurtled on the steep bank of East Flogistan's great Ubedan river. Quertymctypebyte craned forward a little from her perch behind a boulder on a promontory high above the water, watching the brigade of blidgertoppoers as they landed and stormed the shore, intent upon the East Flogistan capital. Still asleep, dreaming dreams of the squarerootofpi, the citizens lay unawares as the toppoers tiptoed at first, and then descended in an onslaught, into the city.
Querty could not watch the ambush. She turned south, followed the river, and dreamed her own dream - of finding The Fool. The Fool, half-mythical leader with the power of unsight. The Fool, sometimes thought to live in the pot of gold at the end of the old year. The Fool, who alone could save the city.
"Everyone knows the squarerootofpi is chocolate divided by cherry," Leonida's date droned on.
Drone. Where was it?
"I have to go to the ladies room."
Leonida escaped while Professor Slitmywrists ordered more wine.
There it was, hovering over the blidgertoppoer. Leonida grabbed it by the spurtle and uploaded the data she had extracted from the professor's phone while pretending to admire his photos from his latest trip to flogistan.
Leonida called a cab and slipped out of the bathroom window.
The blidgertoppoers and I wish everyone a happy April Fool’s day. We couldn’t complete our study of the squarerootofpi since our quertymctypebyte broke, so we boarded our flogistan and spurtled off to our usual breakfast of caffeinecake and scotchers. Be foolish, my friends!
Writer's Block, or How to Write a Fiction Novel in less than five nanowrimos:
Twas brillig and the slithy toves uttered four score and seven years ago. Poelle stuck pins in the Jetreid kewpie doll with a satisfied smile. The blidgertoppoer spurtled on the quick brown fox who jumped over the lazy sleeping dog. Whether this occurred before or after the Shih Tzu won the election by a single hanging chad remains unclear and is the subject of a 450k middle grade manuscript pubbed by PenguinRandomSchusterMacMillanWTF and repped by agent Buttonwheezer. Meanwhile, back in Flogistan, Mr. Quertymctypebyte could eat no fat and his wife, Mrs. Squarerootofpi, could eat no lean. Together, they licked the platter clean while the cow jumped over the moon, triggering the zombie apocalypse.
Do I win a copy of John Frain's manuscript?
These are wonderful fun, y'all! Dena, my dad used to recite The Jabberwocky, I can all but hear his voice reading yours. Just his sense of absurd humor. And great references. Thank you.
Spurtle is my new favorite word.
With a wheeze and a groan, the TARDIS materialized, and the Doctor and Ace stepped out.
“Bildgertoppoer!” said the Doctor, glancing around and inhaling deeply.
“Bless you,” said Ace.
“No, the atmosphere. Full of it.”
“What is it?”
“Illegal. Last person to use it was flogistanned.”
The Doctor coughed.
“I meant squarerootofpified!”
A dark figure emerged from behind a rock, laughing. The Doctor pointed.
“It’s Querty McTypebyte!”
“You meanify the Masterpod.”
“That what I spurtled.”
“And soon you will be nothing but a pair of gibbering fools,” said the Master from behind his gas mask. “Goodbyedle. Gooseboy. Goo—Damn!”
This is fun! :D
The Flogistan looked down at Querty McTypebyte. The little blidgetopper looked back in fear and spurtled out directions.
Take the high road to the squarerootfpi. You will see a game trail going up hill. Take that three kilomiles to a cabin. Wait and it will show when the sun radiates along the ridgelan. At that time your glismatter will shine for all to see.
The Flogistan smiled a toothy smile and reached out. He gragged Querty by the neck, pottered him into that smile and crunched twice.
This flash fiction non-contest brought to you by guy-vision and man-hearing.
Blidgertoppoer is not the Brigitte Bardot's hairpiece, it's those other things.
Squarerootofpi is not the final line in Paul McCartney's Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey song from 1971. It's that movie with the kid and the fake tiger on a lifeboat. How is that kid still alive?
Flogistan is not where Hi and Lois live. It's in southern Russia, probably near Australia and the Duchess of Kneale.
Quertymctypebyte is the nickname Tony DiNozzo calls Timothy McGee in NCIS. Don't you love,love,love Ducky. He reminds me of one one my favorite U.N.C.L.Es.
Spurtle is what women use to keep their husbands in line due to the malady of guy hearing and man vision(In the USA, aka: a rolling pin or husband adjuster). Not related to Spurtle the Turtle(a board game) or Squirtle from Pokemon(A game also?). Also can be used as a verb. If you ever find me playing with either, please spurtle me.
Why isn't everyday April 1st?
Okay I'm STILL laughing over CynthiaMc's Professor Slitmywrists and then comes Colin's
“Bildgertoppoer!” said the Doctor, glancing around and inhaling deeply.
“Bless you,” said Ace.
I have to work today guys!
DLM - you're welcome.
Rabbit, rabbit. Happy April 1 everyone.
Haha. Great April 1st day. What fun!
"D-d-do you know the squarerootofpi?" It came out in a spurt. Leah blushed.
He handed her a TI-89.
"Going to the game?"
He shook his head.
"How 'bout them Tudors?"
He pushed her the textbook without looking up.
She joined his typing class. A full page of "Quertymctypebyte blidgertoppoer quertyblidgescrewthis" instead of Aesop caught the teacher's attention, but not his.
In desperation, she consulted Cosmopolitan and How to Win Friends and Influence People. One suggested asking favors, the other batting eyelashes.
"Can you proofread my paper?" She blinked.
"You misspelled 'flogistan'," he said absently.
"Well, you missed the flogging point!"
Julie, if this is how you write uncaffeinated, I need to read your WIP like a textbook!
Happy April Fool's Day!
“Man, the new generation of Pokemon are so lame. 'Blidgetoppoer'?”
“'Flogistan' looks like a Middle Eastern flan. … Dude, when's lunch?”
“Nintendo is jerking us around. Quertymytypebyte belongs in a Digimon game. Or on a Yu-gi-oh card.”
“'Squarerootofpi' is pretty cute. Mmm, pie.”
“All right, Homer Simpson, lunch time.”
“Spurtle was always my favorite Pokemon. That turtle was so adorable.”
“Dude, the turtle was Squirtle.”
“No, it wasn't. I spent hours with Spurtle, he was a—”
“OK, go wash your hands, then burn your Pornkemon game. Perv.”
You guys are seriously hilarious. Extra points to Leah for bringing up Digimon!! By far one of my all-time favorite shows. :)
Carstairs looked up from his flogis. “Tangent?”
“That would have been querty,” McTypebyte intoned grimly. “But this line intersects the outer circle in two places. It’s only tangent to an invisible inner circle with area square root of pi times the radius of the outer circle.”
“My God, what are they playing at?”
“This rune will call… THEM.”
McTypebyte shrugged again. Blood started to escape from his neck – at first a barely-detectable spurtle, moments later a gusher.
It was his turn next, Carstairs knew. All along the blidger top, poer lights were blinking on.
“What would you do if I took that spurtle out cho oatmeal?”
“Cause yo self can’t make no mo oatmeal?
“Then why, James Blidger Toppoer Ty McType?”
“Cause yo self would be daid ‘fo that spurtle touched yo hand.”
Think so, then try.
Yo be quer Ty McType?
By tempting me, yo not too smart?
I smart Ty.
“What’s the square root of pi?”
“What?” AHHHHH. Put that spurtle down Ty?
I putin’ this here spurtle down yo throat.
Well, A flog is tantalizing. Flog this here spurtle cross yo haid.
Here I am, laughing at everyone's April Fool's tomfoolery, and Kregger has to say this:
"Quertymctypebyte is the nickname Tony DiNozzo calls Timothy McGee in NCIS. Don't you love,love,love Ducky. He reminds me of one one my favorite U.N.C.L.Es."
Yes, yes I do love Ducky, even though I rarely watch NCIS. Simply because Kuryakin.
Happy April Fool's, everyone!
I ruv the floggies!
The creativity is running strong and deep today. I LOVE all the references - Dr. Who, Pokemon, Jabberwocky, NCIS and U.N.C.L.E., Life of Pi, and so much more. Thanks, everyone, for this, and thanks to the Queen for opening that door.
These are all words that I have used, and will continue to use, I can tell you that-- Donald Trump
You guys are hilarious! And brilliant! The bright light in my work day
“Vat happened to Spurtle Petrov?”
“He went down on a fucking pistol, gotta problem wit dat?.”
“Mickey, language, what the fuck? My wife’s right over there. Who’s this new guy.”
“Don’t you be worrying aboot my new guy, now what do you wanna buy?” He hauls off and punches the guy in the throat.
“Squarerootofpiladdy, flogistan…query…MCTYPE…byte me!”
“Hey Zoey, you hear dis guy?”
“I think he’s from like…Scotland, maybe it’s a traumatic dialect.”
“Flogistanhopff, Blidgertoppoer…une so weider!”
“Now dat’s Chermann…Mickey, I tink he insulted yer Mum.”
“Keep it up and you’ll end up like that Glock-sucker Petrov.”
“Mickey! Language here.”
Happy April Fools, I was befuddled.
It's Mizzzzzz Querty McTypebyte, of the Hell's Kitchen McTypebytes
I'm caffeinated and rolling in laughter at these posts. JR unleashed the beast today. Since the contest ended before it started, and I can't do mental gymnastics on April 1, I'll applaud all of this creativity and abstain from this one, but oh my, what an unleashing of the kraken!
"closes in five minutes" *chuckle*
The wit never ceases around here, which, yes, does make this blog the BEST OF THE BEST!
Now I'm taking the day off to do some shed hunting today on the USFS; antlers abound, and waiting- Good day, everyone!
I went to work this morning and told my staff of twenty years I was retiring!
Has anyone ever seen mint-flavored Scope propel from a person's nose and hit a wall ten feet away?
It ain't pretty.
Impressive, yes. Pretty, no.
I did tell them April Fools, before they became too upset.
In other news, it's the first day of CampNaNoWriMo! Is anybody else participating? I'm thinking of some kind of steampunky dragon thing set in Westward Expansion/Industrial Revolution era United States, aiming at novella length. That way, I can trim or expand in edits. Lunchtime starts now, and so will my wordcount!
Thanks, Dena! Having been in various incarnations of Alice in Wonderland (Red Queen/White Queen) I thought your slivy tove was brillig!
Twas brillig, and the blidgertoppoer was in full bloom inside the beltway. Made for a presidential debate like no other, too. The Wicked Witch of the West, flummoxed by her recent scandal Flogistanigate, refused to speak except in cat hisses. Father Time spurtled unintellibly, mumbling mostly about anewtaxsystem based on the squarerootofpi. Most Americans liked pie, so he was making points bigtime. And then of course the ball dropped in NYC and The Joker said, “All you clowns to the right are stuck in the middle. Elect me, and we’ll push illegal quertymctypebytes back to Protozoa where they belong.” Boop.
The typewriter raised its knife—
Fully awake now, I clapped a hand over my mouth and checked the crib. Thank goodness, Sunny only spurtled a little then fell right back asleep.
“Blidgertoppoer?” my husband mumbled.
“She’s fine,” I whispered, and he was out again. So easy for him. He was a finance guy, not a writer. Finance guys didn’t have to deal with nightmares about slow writing when a protagonist’s quest to Flogistan was delayed by yet another case of day care crud.
His eyes shot open. “Square root of pi!”
Finally reading all the comments. You guys are killing me this morning! And holy cow I love that that there are other NCIS fans here. I *do* love Ducky, but I actually think Probie is my favorite (and I'm still mad about Agent Todd)! Er wait, actually Abby is my favorite. OK, so I'm binge watching it on Netflix, and yes I'm hooked. Finally a series I'm addicted to with more than 2 seasons!
I envy you so much. I want an antler lamp.
Thank you. I cringe at all the typos, but I'm not going to repost it.
I decided to do the A-Z Blogging challenge. Plus I have two WIPs in progress. IO think my plate is full, but good luck.
“Hey, what’s the square root of pi?”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“I’m smart, really fucking smart.” She smiled mischievously.
“Remember Superman had a little enemy , Mr quertymctypebyte?”
“You mean mxyzptlk, um, you Ok? Not dipping into my stash of spurtle are you?”
“Who me? And furthermore I would be ablidgertoppoer.”
“What's that sweetie, you’d be obliged to to what?
“To know if these donuts were made in smokeistan, I mean flogistan or by a guy named Stan.”
“To the gils , it’s your spmurtle care to join me?”.
I've tried three times to enter my silly take on the words, but Blogger doesn't like my format - so!
I'm going to stop - those last three deletes were mine, b/c don't want to fill up QOTKU's comments here with a bunch of deleted items.
I am in stitches! You all make me spurtle my flogistan.
It's my brother's birthday today...I think some teasing is in order...
I saw Janet's post this morning and thought, "I bet someone will actually write an entry!"
Darned if some of you did!
John Frain, I agree with you completely! And I've never heard it so well put. Well done, sir!
Hey, how come John Frain gets to use the invisible font.
Well, I guess that's as good a reason as any.
Well you don't ha...
*Thanks for the ink John*
'cause April 1st has come and gone and already forgotten I read JRs post and thought, oh, she's editing again! Luckily there was a reminder early in the comments that you guys are still living in yesterday.
But the result was a fun read =)
The klaxon blared a counterpoint to the muffled explosions happening around the bridge.
Ensign McSpurtle's (of the Gamma four McSpurtles) fingers hesitated.
“Incorrect password. Two attempts remaining. One minute until crystal core detonation.”
“We're going to die because no one knows Captain's password? Frak, check under his keyboard!” Flogistan was a practical, if less erudite, crewmen.
McSpurtle checked. A small note crammed with words was adhered there.
“Thirty seconds until total crystal core detonation.”
“Incorrect password. One attempt remaining. Fifteen seconds until crystal core detonation.”
“Just pick one!” Flogistan screamed.
McSpurtle typed. <√π>
Everything went silent.
Ah haha Happy April Fools,' everyone!
Faking your death was a bit easier when you lived in a floating city.
John stood on the blidgertoppoer, tossing chunks of raw meat on his boat. He was a math professor, and in a situation like this the square root of pi was quite relevant; the boat could end up in Flogistan by his calculation. Maybe Carkoon. He should probably get some kale.
He sent a final text:
PS Yes, I know it's QWERTY. Let it go.
On the other side of the dock, Spurtle prepared to release the sharks.
Happy April Fool's Day!!!
Papa tells me that spurtlequertymctypebyteflogistan isn't a word. It's with my strongest and most trusty blidgertoppoer that I quickly devise my answer: 3.
He spurtles yet again, quertymctyebyte-ing that I am so wrong. In fact, it's 1.77245385. Squarerootofpi.
Ha, I say, almost blidgertoppoerred in such a haste to prove him wrong, that I can barely flog my stan or square my root. And yet, and yet, he turns that loving eye upon me. That daddy-fied smile. And I have no doubt within me, none at all, that no matter when or where a word falls upon my tongue or in my head or in my heart, he will always, without question, believe that I am his most blidge rtoppoersq uarerootofpiflo gistanquerty mcty pebyte spurt lefied. That is to say, the one he loves the most.
135 words/14 minutes/unedited/lose/lose/lose LOLOL...
The town of Flogistan smells old like magic. It hides in the blue valley between the Blidgertoppoer and Quertymctypebyte mountain ranges, a small speck on an ancient map that everyone has forgotten. Most humans cannot see Flogistan, inhabited by our Spurtle race. We were rumored to have died out centuries ago. But the thing about rumors, is that not all of them are true.
Rainshine McSlook is the last human to have figured out the password to the invisible gates of Flogistan. Squarerootofpi. Not actually the number but the words spelled out, without spaces. I think someday, she’ll be Queen.
John/Hank/Christina - the whole invisible ink thing (which has had me laughing all night) reminded me of when I was in third grade and certain I was going to be an international spy, I found a recipe for invisible ink and my friends and I sent messages to each other that way for a while.
Sister Mary Hatchetface: You are not supposed to be passing notes in class.
Me: What note?
SMHF: This is a blank sheet of paper.
At home we would set them on the radiators to let the ink come through.
My mother: Are you trying to set the house on fire?
Me: No, ma'am. I'm just trying to save the world.
Did you HAVE to post this while I was putting cereal in my mouth? Oh, I suppose I could have read it before eating. My bad. *Mops up keyboard.*
This was better than seeing Alex Trebec walk on stage to greet his Jeopardy guests without his pants (yes, there were boxers). April fools has gotten so sophisterpated!
Good one! At first I thought the Jabberwocky was on the prowl! Reminds me of a test I give my sixth grade students every April 1. The first thing at the top of the test says they are to read the entire test before beginning it. Of course, hardly anyone does. There are about 25 items to complete. One has them standing and clucking like a chicken. Another one has them hopping to the whiteboard and writing their name. The very last one tells them it is a joke and to only put their name on the paper, do none of the other 24 items, then sit back and watch their classmates perform. It's a hoot to see which students read all the way through to number 25 and realize it's a prank.
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