Today’s post is a very different kind of post than I have ever done before. I wrote a story. April French posted a gibberish word on facebook recently, and I commented that it sounded like an insane poodle. And thus, the story of Foofie-Fa, a pre-historic poodle raised by raptors was born.
WARNING The following story is very random. If you don’t like weird, random humor, than click the x and go read some politics or something.
Once there was a poodle. It's name was Foofie-Fa. Why do I call it an it? Because no one was ever able to get near enough to figure out if it was a boy or a girl. You see, Foofie-Fa was insane. Actually, the fact that no one knew if it was a boy or a girl is not entirely true. Foofie-Fa’s mother knew. Not Foofie-Fa’s birth mother, Foofie-Fa’s adopted mother. Foofie-Fa was raised by a family of Velociraptors.
Foofie-Fa was born deep in a pre-historic forest called the Forest of Fear. Foofie-Fa’s mother, Yap-Yap, had belonged to an elderly cave-woman who passed away one night after clubbing seven T-Rexes to death. She should have stopped at six, but she had been determined to beat her old record. The strain of all that work was just too much for the elderly cave-lady’s heart. Her cave-children were sad, but they consoled themselves with the fact that she died doing what she loved, and in the end, that was all that mattered. Yap-Yap was so distraught at the death of her cave-mistress, that she ran away from home, despite the fact that she was two months pregnant, and ended up giving birth deep in the Forest of Fear. She gave birth to a healthy litter of 4 puppies. Except one. One was not healthy, it was a runt.
One evening a few weeks later, a mother pterodactyl was going grocery shopping for dinner. She saw the Yap-Yap’s family and decided to make poodle parmesan, which was her husband’s favorite. She swooped down and grabbed Yap-Yap and three of her babies. She left the runt because it was just too small, and wouldn’t even feed Pterie Jr. her newly hatched chick. And so, the runt became an orphan. It vowed from that day forward that it would have its revenge upon Mrs. Pterodactyl, and nothing would stand in its way.
The runt spent the next two weeks alone surviving on wild mushrooms and snails, until a baby velociraptor happened to toddle by. He spotted the tiny puppy, grabbed it, and raced off as fast as his tiny little raptor legs would carry him.
Mrs. Raptor was was having brunch with Mrs. Oviraptor. Mrs. Oviraptor had made a fabulous Triceratops quiche, and had invited Mrs. Raptor and her kids to come over for the morning. Mr. Raptor was at work all day so Mrs. Raptor agreed. After all, who would say no to one of Mrs. Oviraptor’s amazing quiches? As she daintily wiped her lips with a palm frond, her son, Klawd, ran up to her and began squeaking wildly waving what looked like a mouse in her face. “What is it, dear? Did you bring me a snack?” Klawd squealed in horror and shielded his find from her. “Okay, okay, I won’t eat it, what is it?” He held it out again.
“I think it’s a poodle, mom.” Her daughter, Jaws, exclaimed, grabbing the tiny creature from her brother. “If it’s a girl, can we keep it? I’ve always wanted a sister. But if it’s a boy we should eat it. We have enough boys.” She glared at Klawd who began sobbing.
Mrs. Raptor took the poodle from Jaws and examined it. “It is a girl, and I suppose we can keep her.” Her children cheered. “Now sit back down and eat. Your food is getting cold.”
The runt survived and thrived. She became the strongest of Mrs. Raptor’s three children. She was an invaluable member of the family when it came to hunting. She could take down a full grown mammoth without breaking a sweat. Her family named her Foofie-Fa after what all the cave people called her when they saw her. In cave-speak Foofie-Fa means “Adorable puppy of death, destruction, and unspeakable horror.”
When Foofie-Fa turned 13, Jaws began dating a teenage spinosaurus. This particular spinosaurus was very sickly, and he sneezed on Jaws. Jaws came down with a very bad cold and passed it on to her family. It didn’t affect Foofie-Fa very much, but all four velociraptors got very sick and sneezed themselves to death. After the funeral Foofie-Fa became bitter. Finally, after stewing in her anger for weeks, slowly losing grip on her sanity, she flew into a rage and attacked a whole pack of ankylosaurus. She selected the biggest one and used its tail as a club to clobber the cough syrup out of the sickly spinosaurus. As she looked around at the destruction she had caused she suddenly remembered the vow she had made all those years ago. Now she would find the treacherous creature that had turned her first family into a lovely pre-Italian pasta dish and she would fulfill her vengeful vow.
Over the next few weeks Foofie-Fa searched everywhere, asking at every nest the whereabouts of Mrs. Pterodactyl. Finally she located her at Elm Nest Retirement Community for Aged Reptiles. Foofie-Fa wasted no time. She ran to the nearest Dino-Mart and bought a bundle of dynamite. She lit the fuse and threw it into the nursing nest. The explosive blaze was glorious. Fully consumed by insanity now, she retreated into the forest. No one ever saw her again. At least, no one ever saw her and lived to tell the tale.
Years passed and Foofie-Fa became a legend throughout the cave-cities. Cave-Parents would scare their small cave-children into obedience by telling them that they would leave them in the Forest of Fear as a snack for Foofie-Fa if they did not obey them. Tales of Foofie-Fa became more popular than ghost stories when telling tales of horror around the cave-fires.
One day a young cave-teen named Clog decided that he would hunt down and kill Foofie-Fa. He wanted to impress his new cave-girlfriend Clunk. She told him that she would be more impressed if he’d buy her a new sabre-tooth pelt, but he wouldn’t listen. “You no need fancy pelts!” He grunted. “You need strong protection! I strong protector! I kill Foofie-Fa for proof! You stay here and cut up cave-roots. We have Foofie-Fa stew for supper!” And with that he jumped on his trusty steed, Tork the Triceratops, and gallopped away.
“Oh, no he di’int!” Clunk exclaimed. She grabbed her club and jumped onto her stegosaurus, Thunk, and gave chase. Thunk was a hand-me down from her father, and had a lot more miles on her than Clog’s new hot-rod, Tork, so Clunk fell way behind. After searching for about three hours and forty-seven minutes, Clunk was about to give up. She decided that instead of clobbering Clog, she’d just let Foofie-Fa have him. Suddenly off in the distance she heard what sounded like a cave-baby screaming, followed by a whole lot of crashing bushes. It was Clog, running for his life from a small fluffy poodle.
“THE BITING! THE BITING!” He screamed, his arms waving wildly in the air as he ran. “MAKE STOP! ME HAVE BAD ANKLES ALREADY!”
“Good grief.” Clunk said to herself as Clog ran by. “What a baby.” She held up her club as the poodle approached and thumped it on the head. “Ooh!” Clunk said bending down to pick up the dog. “This will make a gorgeous new pelt!'” A few yards away Clog realized that the beast was no longer chasing him and he turned around to see Clunk holding up the poodle by the tail.
“Yeah, well, me was just going to do that… as soon as me find… good enough club.” he said “Old club not… knobbly… enough.”
“Sure.” Clunk said. “You know what? From the looks of this fur, I don’t need you to buy me any pelts. Come find me when you’re ready to give me that “Strong protection” you promised. See ya!”
And so, Foofie-Fa’s reign of terror came to an end. Some say that on cool summer nights, you can still hear the ghost of Foofie-Fa howling in the Forest of Fear. Others say that it’s not her ghost, but that she had a husband and a litter of pups and they are howling for vengeance on whoever was responsible for her death. That’s just silly talk though. Who’d want to marry a crazy poodle?