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A Brief Recap

"A hand appeared with a hedgehog in a glass orb, singing to him in Portuguese. It sounded like "The Chipmunks" and there were rodent gas noises."

<guffaw>

Have I told you lately how much you rock?

:heart:
 
LOL

I love how Plumpbuckle's eyes are wide and ears fully perked, as one would expect to be if one had a giant cigarette shoved into one's rectum.

"Rectum? It nearly killed 'im!"

:heart:
 
At this juncture, the point of view of our story suddenly shifted to that of the hapless cigarette, who went by the name of Mustafa LeBlanc. Upon finding himself in such an unenviable predicament, he tried everything he could think of to extricate himself. Alas, however, given his complete lack of appendages, this struggle proved fruitless.

Exhausted and resigned to his fate, he began daydreaming of happier times, when he was a young tobacco plant in Izmir, Turkey. It was during this halcyon time that he fell madly in love with a Turkish farmer girl named Alev.

http://www.doganart.com/resimler/TMarket/Seller%20farmer%20girl.jpg

Alev was a kind, gentle tobacco caretaker with a legendary green thumb. Shy and retiring, she eschewed human contact altogether, instead lavishing all of her considerable love and affection upon the plants in her care. Believe you me, those plants loved her back, with an undying passion. The tobacco seedlings responded to her tender, almost caress-like pruning, her careful watering (never too much or too little), and her tireless back-breaking weeding, until they grew strong, hale, and hearty. Despite being scrupulously organically grown, Alev's love rendered them completely disease resistant, able to shrug off any nascent blights or molds without even batting a leaf. It was an absolute Eden for Mustafa LeBlanc, and his love for Alev knew no bounds. His days were filled to the brim with warm sunshine and the vigilant attention of his darling Alev, and he naturally assumed that this shangri-la would go on indefinitely, having known no other life.

Ah, the dramatic irony of a young agricultural product's fate. As you are wise in the ways of the world, you no doubt can surmise the tragic but inevitable end to Mustafa's glory days in the Turkish sun. I will just add that Alev didn't do the harvesting or processing herself; she was strictly a grower, and she already felt suitably abashed at the necessity that her charges, upon whom she had lavished so much care and attention, had to be cut down in their prime. On that fateful day, she would invariably retire to her modest cottage at the edge of her fields, weeping silent tears, stifling with limited success her burning sense of betrayal, and taking small consolation from dreams of the next spring's planting, when she could begin the process anew.

http://images.epilogue.net/users/yangge/weeping_girl.jpg

Mustafa, meanwhile, awoke that day fully expecting to see Alev's smiling face. Instead, he was brutally cut down with a scythe, hung to dry in an open barn, and eventually sent to a factory, whereupon he was stuffed into a cylindrical tube of paper, along with countless thousands of his kind.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/olmedia/1255000/images/_1256702_fags-bbc-300.jpg

I… I'm sorry… I'm too distraught to go on right now… I… need to go collect myself… will continue… later…

<gasping, wrenching sobs>
 
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<thoughtful reply rendered unintelligible by continuing sobs>

<ack>I… <sputter> know… <wail> how could… <lament> alkdsjlfkajsdl… <keening ululation>
 
tortoise said:
Timmy, overcome with jealous hatred, ordered his manservant Karl, whose smithy skills nearly surpassed his prowess in the bedroom, to destroy all of Alexei's silverware.
...
Click to expand...
Interesting..."smithy." The car Talk guys used this as a puzzler, borrowing from the first scene of the film "O Brother Where Art Thou." Turns out a "smithy" is actually the building in which a bellows and coals would be found where a blacksmith would do his/her work. So to say that someone has "smithy skills" is an error. Like saying saying "police station skills" instead of police or detective skills or "hospital skills" instead of medical skills.
 
Cleopatra said:
Y'okay?

Need a tissue?
Click to expand...

N…no, I'll be okay… It's only a stupid plant… a happy, beautiful stupid plant… abandoned by his love… and then forced to suffer humiliations galore, culminating in being thrust into the ass of an ass…

<lip quivering, eyes limpid>

atmas said:
Interesting..."smithy." The car Talk guys used this as a puzzler, borrowing from the first scene of the film "O Brother Where Art Thou." Turns out a "smithy" is actually the building in which a bellows and coals would be found where a blacksmith would do his/her work. So to say that someone has "smithy skills" is an error. Like saying saying "police station skills" instead of police or detective skills or "hospital skills" instead of medical skills.
Click to expand...

That is indeed interesting. I'm a huge fan of esoteric words. I am pretty sure that I was aware (when I wrote that) that a smithy is the place where a blacksmith sets up his trade, as I've read quite a bit of history and historical fiction from the heyday of blacksmithing and other relatively archaic trades, i.e. fletchers, chandlers, coopers and the like (it's funny how many Fletchers, Chandlers, and Coopers have no clue about the origin of their surnames… but I digress).

That was written, what, three years ago?, so I honestly can't recall why I chose to write it like that. Perhaps I meant it more in an archly tongue-in-cheek sort of way, more like "smith-y skills"…? Or, more likely, I just screwed up.
 
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Glambino! Talk about a sight for sore eyes. How the hell are you, my friend?
 
Plumpbuckle grew to truly savor the feel of a cigarette stuffed up his rectum, so Mustafa LeBlanc may well have been doomed to spend the rest of his days in the ass of an ass, had fate not intervened. Fate can often take mysterious shapes, and in this instance fate happened to appear in the form of several small pieces of rancid cheese.

You see, Mustafa LeBlanc was no ordinary cigarette. He was engineered as a special, top-secret prototype, one that the designers hoped would revolutionize the tobacco industry: a cheese filtered cigarette.

http://tortle.com/lit3/cheese_filtered_cigarette.GIF

That's right. In place of a normal filter, Mustafa LeBlanc had several tiny pieces of the finest parmaggiano reggiano (aged a minimum of 24 months), mixed with activated charcoal. This mixture, it turns out, has the innate ability to filter far greater quantities of tar and carcinogens from the tobacco smoke than standard filters. Under normal conditions, and as long as the cigarettes are smoked in a timely manner, the cheese filters worked beautifully. However, spending long days in the Andean sun stuffed into the rectum of a donkey were not what would normally be described as "ideal conditions," so Mustafa's cheese filter soon began to give off a very, shall we say, pungent odor.

Plumpbuckle was quite used to funky odors emanating from his butt, but after a few days even he began to be sickened by the miasmal stench of rancid cheese. So, reluctant as he was to part with his tobacco buttplug, he solemnly shat Mustafa out in in the middle of a shady grove of trees and quickly hurried away, eager to distance himself from the smell.
 
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Especially donkey rectums!

Heh.

I'm so happy for Mustafa LeBlanc, though, finally freed from his donkeyrectal imprisonment, and able to enjoy some peace and quiet in a shady glade.

Of course, his peaceful interlude didn't last long… remember?
 
Mustafa LeBlanc was so relieved to be free of Plumpbuckle's ass that he didn't care a whit about the fact that he was now stranded without hope of rescue in the middle of a particularly trackless portion of the Andes. He was perfectly comfortable and perfectly content, occupying his mind with daydreams of the halcyon days with his beloved Alev.

http://www.fotosearch.com/comp/ART/ART167/DOM020.jpg

However, Mustafa's idyll was abruptly ended when a tall stately llama who went by the tall stately name of Jose Arcadio Buendia wandered into the dreaming cigarette's glade and unceremoniously ate him in one prodigious llama-bite.
 
<guffaw>

That's an amazing pic, baby. I think I'm in love with Brauburner.

:heart:
 
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