Tales of the Parodyverse

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Baby Elephant, Queen of the Universe
Wed Mar 14, 2007 at 04:23:02 pm EDT
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A Day in the Life of Baby Elephant, Queen of the Universe: A Very, ahem, Short Autobiography
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Written entirely by Baby Elephant!
[Ghosted by Sch’mold, since BE cannot even write her own name, let alone a story]

The Baby Elephant skipped and snarfed her way across the field to her secret hide-out. She had to duck whenever a hidden pie mine went off anywhere near her dinky little feet. Most of the time these brutal devices missed her completely, but sometimes a strawberry or lemon pie hit her right in the face or bottom, and she had to spend valuable time slurping off the whip cream shrapnel. Yes, it was a hard life for an imaginary animal, but she managed to enjoy herself just the same.

When the tiny pachyderm finally reached her chosen destination, she carefully licked off the last of the boysenberry filling and felt under the doormat for the small silver key that would open the door to her headquarters. OH NO, IT WAS MISSING!!!

Oops, no, it wasn’t. The Baby Elephant had momentarily forgotten that last time she had put the key away under a fake rock in the yard. Retrieving it with a giggle, she unlocked the door, which looked exactly like a big, fat mushroom, and climbed inside her
command center.

    “Noi!” she immediately sang out with all her might, “Noi, Noi, Noi!!”

    This was done as a special precaution. The miniature herbivore knew full well that intruders could be present, and it was vitally important that she render them harmless with her obnoxious vocalizing. Today, however, she was completely alone within the confines of the hollow old log that comprised the base of her operations. Sad to say, with no adversaries to vanquish (other than her dangerously brief attention span), she became instantly bored. So she decided to dance.

    Baby Elephant soon discovered that this was a terrible idea. Alerted by the thumping and bumping inside the log, squadrons of her enemies launched an immediate and devastating attack from within. Moments after completing her first polka, the short heroine was overcome by waves of hostile forces.

    “Buuurrpp”

    She felt much better now. Those eggplant and cream cheese burritos could be deadly.

    It was time for our diminutive snarfer to check all her advanced computer monitors for the latest news and information (for the record, she had whined the complex equipment off of the newly arrived Baroness Zebra and her lackey, Sally Snake). So, after grabbing a healthful, refreshing snack of deep-fried twinkies and Jolt+, Baby Elephant pressed buttons, flipped switches, and fiddled with toggles on the highly technical console before her. Drat, she thought, the cable is out. Now I’m gonna miss ‘Rugrats.’

Sadly, life can be as cruel as a tofu hotdog.

But then so can the purported good guys. You see, as usual, the newest team of Death Island goody-goodies, otherwise known as the “Vermin Patrol,” was busy saving the world. At least that was Hamtan’s, Gamma Ray Gary’s, Spaz’s, Anony-mouse’s, Twitchy’s, and Veasel’s excuse for ignoring Baby Elephant’s agonized cries of distress. Rather than inspecting the wiring on her entertainment/security system, they callously insisted on capturing some silly terrorists armed with just a few stolen nuclear warheads. This thoughtlessness on the part of the self-styled heroic pocket pets and oddly scented livestock meant that Baby Elephant was left all alone, with only the company of her thoughts to keep her from falling apart.

***Guess what, gang, if we bomb them now, we’ll cleverly destroy their weapons of mass destruction... even if they don’t have any!***

Thank goodness she obviously had her rock solid sanity to rely on.

When the brand new vigilantes finally found the time to drop by and inquire after Baby Elephant’s condition, she proudly showed them the door… because that’s where the Insta-Cable Company ran the lines. Accordingly, Hamtan, who was the Vermin Patrol’s team leader and a “less than certified scientific genius,” re-arranged the electrical system lackadaisically until, by sheer luck, it began to function again.

“Oh, goody, jes’ in time for Spongebob!” our diminutive female protagonist trumpeted with joy. She bore a genuine fondness for the classics.

“Great, can we go now?” demanded the unsympathetic, bacony pig and his equally cold-blooded cohorts.

“Aw, come’on, why don’tcha be a pal and take a peep in my kitchen. Something don’t work right. Every time I cram three whole watermelons down da disposal, it starts to make funny noises and smell really bad.”

“By “disposal,” would you happen to mean your “mouth?” replied Anony-Mouse wearily.

“Yes.”

“Let’s go, fellas. The rest is up to fate and a good gastroenterologist.”


This is just one, very brief example of the spitefulness of others that surrounds our poor innocent Baby Elephant. Other examples will be forthcoming.


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