Showing posts with label gordon gordon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gordon gordon. Show all posts

Saturday, May 28, 2016

The Mystery of the Vodoo Showcase

It was a chilling winter night, snow shooting out of the sky like sharp projectiles of frozen water at horrifying speeds and hitting people who weren't smart enough to bring their snow goggles outside with them in the eyes. One of the tiny cold menaces bounced off of my leather shoulder pad harmlessly, as I'm always prepared for this sort of thing.

One time, in the summer of 4444, Old Woman Crockers decided to go crazy with her woodchipper and turn it on to the busy street in the middle of walking hour (When all citizens are required to go outside and walk for 30 seconds before returning to their regular lethargic activities) causing a general hysteria among the bewildered pedestrians. Not me. I never leave home without three basic essentials: a glass of water (quarter way filled), my faithful dingo skin hat, and a reinforced woodchipper deflecting shield. 

They call me The Groff. That's short for Groffif. Which is short for Groffifif. I was born under the alias Groffifif Fiffrig Jr III. I make my living around these parts as a self proclaimed private detective. You may have heard of me after my involvement in the big Butterknife Casino Scandal case last September. No big deal, just some undercover sleuthing that led to the arrests of 3 individual criminals. I guess you could say I'm a bit of a legend around these parts as self proclaimed private detective.

They call me.. The Groff
Anyhow, it's still a cold winter night, and destructive icy missiles are raining down from the sky quicker than you could throw a hunk of metal into a blazing furnace. All these frozen menaces have knocked out the street lamps, so it's pretty dark and eerie on this dirty little street. I hear some sort of deity scurry off into the shadows, so I reflexively swing around towards the signal of danger, simultaneously whipping out my infamous signature weapon, a small concealed harpoon that fires ink tipped darts (to mark the target with sticky ink when they get away). That's when I first saw him. The best description I could give in that eery gloom would be a man with a sack on his head. I suppose that's a fairly accurate description now that I think about it. Even in that low lit unkept alley, I could tell with a shiver down my spine that this creature/ man was gonna cause me trouble from the very beginning.

I tried to shoot the dang thing, but he jumped straight up so fast that I couldn't get a mark on him. I could hear a loud crunch accompanied by an annoyed grunt as he hit his head (?) on the metal staircase above, followed by the satisfying noise of flesh hitting brick paved street as the thing came down on the other side of the alley. It lay there for a second as I stood there staring, too stunned to even let out an arrogant chuckle at the sorry mess. But after several seconds (about 6) it got up and ran away in a way similar to a wild goose running from an angry wolverine. After that strange encounter, I decided it was time to head back to my office to reflect on the experience, and also decide if it actually happened or if the spicy chemicals in the air were getting to me again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was at least 3 weeks later when I received a chilling piece of mail. I was sitting in my living quarters, which is just a modest apartment located in the gutters of terminal 7, containing just a table and a bathroom. The basics. Suddenly, the mail bell started to ring and my precious table (the only furniture I own) started to shake violently. I braced myself for the worst possible scenario, rapidly pulling out my trusty double edged machete from inside my leather robe, ground down to a safe and legal blunt edge. I squatted down into my war stance, preparing for an all out assault attack.

After several seconds of grueling anticipation, the hole in the ceiling popped open and a single tattered envelope fell through. I waited there for a little while longer to make sure no fiery imps or something of the sort weren't about to come busting through, then I aggressively swiped for the mysterious parcel that I had received. I was hoping it was my yearly allowance from my mother, but I was disappointed to find that it was just another death threat, written on suspicious brown paper in messy unprofessional handwriting. The classic signature of a true evil deity.


It was clear that I had a case on my hands. Evil deties such as this one are not to be dealt with lightly, and there's only one person I trust enough to gather some information about situations such as this one, my buddy Porpice Grapple over at Station 9.
"Porpice Grapple"
I slammed open the thin cardboard door leading to the inside of Station 9 open, setting off a chain reaction of barking cats, smoke grenades, and sprinkler systems.
"Porpice you fat goof where the hell you are hiding!" I shouted into the back room, where I know Porpice likes to take his daily 40 hour naps at.  Within minutes, the floor started to tremble under the tremendous weight of the gargantuan man as he waddled out of the storage room that he utilizes as his living quarters.
"Station 9", the shop/living quarters of Porpice Grapple

"Whooo the hell is out there and what the hell d'ya want!" the large man bellowed angrily, as Porpice does not appreciate being woken from his 40 hour naps.
"It's me, old buddy, 'The Groff'!" I politely informed him.

"I ain't never heard of no'one with that name, so get the hell out of my shop/living quarters you dirty sloth!"

It was clear that my approach wasn't working. Luckily, I had a plan C (talking nicely was plan B, plan A was just standing there hoping he could read my mind). From within my spacious leather robe, I whipped out a small pack of delicious crusty noodle crumbs.

Within seconds, Porpice stiffened up his stature and sniffed the air inquisitively. I took a step closer to him then awkwardly pursed open his clammy lips and placed some of the delicious snack into his mouth. He took several minutes to process this new information, then started to chew audibly. After a couple of seconds of chewing, his eyes widened dramatically and he suddenly opened his mouth to scream in pleasure. Half salivated crunchy noodles flew freely out of his mouth in every direction, with several chunks of warm half-chewed food finding their way into my mouth. It didn't matter though, because I had clearly won over Porpice's trust.

"What brings you to old Porpice's shop/living quarters noodle man?" Porpice asked. I grimly handed him the letter I had received earlier in the mail. He took about 20 minutes to read the whole thing, tediously looking up every word in a tattered dictionary that appeared to have all but one of the pages torn out.

"Great smokin' hell!" he spontaneously remarked,"What're you gon' do 'bout this here evil deity?!"

"That is why I have come to seek your help, old friend" I explained. Porpice stared at me for a moment as if he had no idea how to help me. Then, he pivoted around suddenly as if he had remembered the location of something that could be useful. In his sudden movement, he tripped over some junk that was laying on the floor of his shop/ living quarters. He flailed desperately to try and save his balance, knocking down miscellaneous knick-knacks and garbage off of various shelves around the room and on the walls. He landed on the floor with a painful sounding thud, creating a large crater of broken tile beneath him as he hit the floor.

Porpice lay still in his crater for a while as I stood there watching bemusedly. Then, he spontaneously started rolling across the dirty floor until he reached a rusty old filing cabinet in the corner that I hadn't noticed before. He slid open the bottom drawer, presumably so he wouldn't have to expend the extra effort to pick himself up off of the floor. He reached up one of his hands and rustled around in the drawer for a few minutes before realizing that it was completely empty.

With a sudden burst of strength, he forcefully tugged on the cabinet until it began to slowly topple over, junk spilling out of the drawers all over the place. The heavy looking cabinet landed right on top of poor Porpice, and he let out a distressed grunt underneath the weight. This did not deter him from his mission however, as he reached his arm into one of the drawers and once again began to search around for something.

Porpice let out a muffled yet excited sounding squeel as he pulled his arm out of the drawer and held up a disgusting looking jar filled with some sort of bubbling brown liquid.

"Porpice, I don't think a jar filled with your old toilet water is going to help me destroy evil deities" I told him.

"No, no, NO!" he exclaimed, his voice muffled from beneath the filing cabinet that was holding him hostage, "this here's a real potent mix of chemicals, oh YES! Brewed by Gordon Gordon HIMSELF! It'll do the trick alright, just pour it all o'er that evil deity and it'll be BYE-BYE, see-ya! for that ol' sucker!"

I cautiously stepped over various piles of debris and hesitantly took the grimy jar from out of Porpice's outstretched hand. I walked out the door of Station 9 (Porpices shop/living quarters) without another word.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was starting to get awfully dark in the streets of Ghumada, so I decided that I should start heading back towards my apartment. Believe me, you do NOT want to get stuck in the streets of Ghumada in the dark. Something about angry weasels with sharp teeth attacking bystanders. So, I began walking down the street in the direction opposite of my apartment for some reason. Nothing seemed out of place on this particular night: the sunset was covered up by a thick layer of dark smog, an innocent old man was being slapped arund by a bunch of mean looking thugs, there was even a gnarly looking dog eating the face off of an old corpse that someone had dropped on the side of the street.

I walked around the corner of Glambroke and Porkson. I was startled to notice something extremely out of place in downtown Ghumada: bright lights and people yelling in joy. Looking down the street, I saw a large orange tent set up in the middle of the street with a line of people standing in front of it. It appeared to be some sort of carnival or something. There were even several children about, lined up in front of a snack shop that looked like it had been closed for at least 6 years, evident by the large "CLOSED FOREVER" sign pinned to the front. This was clearly something that required my best investigational skills.

I eagerly pulled off my regular gloves, then from within my ever expanding leather robe, I whipped out my flamboyant investigating gloves.
"Investigating gloves"
I was now fully prepared to begin my investigation. I crept towards the strange carnival type thing with extreme caution, moving while crouching low to the ground, and diving behind bushes whenever possible to avoid detection. After 15 minutes of this foolish behavior, I looked back and discovered that I was actually further away from the target than I had began with. I decided to take the quick route instead. I whipped out my loudest dong bell from out of my leather robe and started ringing it loudly as I sprinted full speed towards the spectacle.

 I was about 100 yards from reaching the place when I tripped over some sort of tree root or alien and painfully landed face down in the street. I eventually skidded to a stop right in front of the large tent. I lifted my head off the ground and was horrified to discover that the world had somehow been converted to all black and white. The sky was gray, the large tent was gray, even my formerly flamboyant investigating gloves had been mysteriously converted to a depressing grayscale layout. Oh hell!
Oh hell!
I stood up and did a quick scan of my surroundings. I was now close enough to notice the conspicuous sign on top of the immense tent. The sign read "VOODOO SHOWCASE".


I needed to get inside. Logically, my first instinct was to try and enter through the opening labeled "ENTRANCE".  As I was about to enter however, several large folks were hurled out of the opening, landing face down in a pit of foul smelling mud. They made no attempt to move.

Clearly, this was some sort of elaborate test. Luckily, my quick wits and highly developed critical thinking skills led me to deduct that the correct entrance was somewhere else. I started to walk around the outside of the tent to try and find another way in.

Suddenly there was a powerful sounding ripping noise as the fabric of the tent tore open. A hefty man with large forehead muscles leapt out of the opening that he had apparently just created to come out and greet me through. He sized me up for a second, then started to scream unnecessarily loud in my face.

"HEEEEEYYYYYY!!" he yelled, "My name's STRONG LARRY! But you can call me STRONG LARRY!!" (Note that the second vocalization of "Strong Larry" was no different than the first)

"Strong Larry"
I stood there dumfounded at the spectacle of "Strong Larry". To break the silence, Strong Larry moved even closer towards me and screamed in my face again, sending spicules of warm saliva sliding down my throat. I let out a pathetic moan.

"Welcome" he continued "To the VOODOO SHOWCASE!" He held out the syllable on the last word, continuing to scream unpleasantly in my saliva coated face. 

After he had finished his despicable introduction, Strong Larry skillfully jumped backwards back into the opening in the tent that he had created earlier. He didn't even look backwards to see where he was going as he did so, almost like he was moving in reverse. After the robust man had disappeared within the tent, a team of small men scuttled up to the hole in the tent, simultaneously whipping out their needles and thread to begin repairing the tear. These nifty gnome-like men had completed their repairs in less than a minute, and hurriedly scattered away after their work was completed.  I wasn't quite sure how to process this.

After several minutes of scouring the perimeter of the tent trying to find a way in, I came to a door with a sign over it labeled "EXIT ONLY NO ENTRANCE". Logically, I figured that this would make a suitable entrance, and I casually stepped inside.

I immediately noticed a strange odor staining the air inside the tent, like a combination of melted plastic and ripe citrus. There was also a visible cloud of thick fog gathered at the ceiling, swirling around ominously in the dim light. Strange pulsing music with weird whining buzzes recurring intermittently could be heard distantly. I took a step forward, broken glass and other painful debris crunching beneath my bare feet.  There was a large crowd of around 20 or so people gathered around a large stage in the center of the space. There attention was focused on a strange man standing on the stage speaking. As he turned towards me, I recognized him immediately!



The evil deity with a sack on his head was running this frightening hell show! He appeared to divert his gaze directly toward me for a few terrible moments with an unblinking and honestly horrifying open-mouthed gaze. My evasive measures training promptly kicked in as I stealthily collapsed to the floor, ignoring the painful shards of glass and other pointed projectiles scattering the floor piercing my various extremities. 

The man with a sack on his head let out a terrible piercing screech that left the audience members groaning in pain with their chubby hands over their ears. Suddenly, the evil deity on the stage turned around and ran behind a thick black curtain. Several seconds later, he returned to the stage, dragging a large gray hose behind him. He took a moment to take in the audience's expressions, then calmly turned the hose on, pointed directly at the audience.

A horrible clear liquid drenched the very souls (and coincidently their socks) of all the innocent citizens gathered inside the area. They did not try to run away, rather they just groaned uncomfortably as they stood there being tortured by the evil deity. He cackled deviously as he watched them moan in pain. 

It was time for me to take action. I tried to crawl up to the stage without being seen by the evil man with the sack on his head. I had to squeeze through the fat legs of a few miserable spectators, but they did not seems to care or notice.  Finally, I reached the platform that my long-time enemy stood upon. 

I jumped up onto the stage, attempting a cool looking backflip but landing on my side with an audible crunch. Damn, this was going to be much harder than I originally anticipated. I stood up slowly, ignoring my several cracked ribs and blood pooling on the stage beneath me. 

The man with a sack on his head was still busy torturing those innocent people below him, cackling madly as he enjoyed his favorite hobby. He was so caught up in being evil that he didn't even notice me walk up right in front of him with a dirty looking vile containing a potent foul smelling liquid. 

However, I did not anticipate the effect of the hose he was holding as I stepped in front of him. As I heroically confronted him, I was blasted backwards off of the stage, slapping the wall like a slippery ham and crumpling uselessly to the floor. 

Oh hell! I would have to find a way back up to the stage to finish the job by destroying this evil deity once and for all with the strange blend of chemicals I was equipped with. However, when I looked into the palm of my hand where I clasped the small glass vile, I noticed with a start that I had somehow come to hold it upside down. The liquid sizzled down my leg for a moment, before I suddenly vanished with a puff of brown smoke. 





Friday, October 30, 2015

Gordon Gordon's Intruder

In observing the lab of Gordon Gordon from the outside on this particular day, one would notice that the small partially boarded over window has been painted over with some kind of reflective material. But wait, now the smoke settles and you see that it wasn't paint after all but another one of Gordon Gordon's hysterical experiments. For a moment, the uncomfortable silence settles in, then, as if on cue, the mad cackle of a deranged scientist reverberates through the air, sending chills down the backs of anyone unfortunate enough to be in the area at the wrong moment.

"I've done it!" he exclaims, "I've figured out how to stop the aging process!" He proudly holds a small vile of a gooey brown  substance. As he stares inquisitively at his creation, a small curious bubble surfaces and explodes, sending a splatter of disgusting manure-smelling fluid into his eyes. Damn it, he thinks, I've forgotten to wear my safety eye-protection again!

"Ouch!" he proclaims "It itches!" For a moment, nothing extraordinary happens. But, two seconds later, a marvelous change begins to take place. Gordon Gordon suddenly stands up straight, his eyes bulging open seemingly beyond maximum capacity. For approximately 6 minutes, he stands alert without moving. Finally, after what seems like an eternity to any convenient spectator (there were none) he slowly begins to open his mouth until he is emitting an annoying high pitched noise that has never before been heard in Ghumada.

"Holy Hell! I feel as if I could lift a car battery!" And he did, however he didn't have any convenient car batteries laying around the lab at that moment, and he didn't have a car (he decided to ride his favorite rhinoceros/fruit fly hybrid to work today) so he walked over to the nearest bus stop about 4 miles down the road from the lab.

After 3 minutes of slow paced trotting down the muddy dirt road, he suddenly began to run wildly, similarly to some kind of wild running creature that received an injection of otherworldly narcotics. After finally reaching the bus stop, he realized that he had forgotten his neck watch back at the lab. How was he to check how long it would take the bus to arrive without his trusty neck watch!? So, after a quick gesture signaling the bus to move along, he began rapidly scurrying back towards the general direction of his lab.

Back in the lab, Gordon Gordon burst through the door (which at this point was actually a thin hole-filled sheet hanging form the arch where there may have once been a door) He happened to pass by the cracked, filth-covered mirror that he had hung there years ago. A nervous shriek escaped his throat.

"Holy Hell! I look as if I haven't aged in a day!" And it was true, he looked exactly the same as he had this morning. For this reason, he decided to celebrate his new discovery. He got out some snacks and 15 minutes later the lab was filled with music and thick colorful smoke. He also crafted some very bright flashing colorful lights that could be seen from all around.

The small celebration, which lasted far into the night time, attracted the attention of a lonely passerby who had lost his home in an unfortunate accident which resulted in the loss of his entire family and most of his belongings. All he had left of his former life was a wet black t-shirt filled with holes and the small left shoe of a child. He carried these things around as if they were his entire world. Which they were, as the only mementos he would ever have left of his family.

The stranger had been wondering through the dense forests of Ghumada for many hours until he heard the comforting sounds of rude music and mad screaming coming from the other direction. He immediately pivoted directions and began to head towards the noise. He had no other purpose but to find out what this strange disturbance could be.

The stranger slowly crept up to the edge of the woods and observed the strange site from behind a large boulder. Gordon Gordon was wildly chasing around some kind of chicken-like creature through his lab. Fascinated, the stranger decided to take a closer look. He slowly inched towards the small window located on the side of the lab and peered through, careful not to be spotted.

What he saw in the small messy lab with equipment that appeared to be coated in some sort of strange glowing liquid amazed him. On the large chalkboard standing near the back of the lab there were some complex looking symbols and equations that made absolutely no sense to him. But, written under all of the numbers and junk, it appeared as if the scientist had figured out a way to permanently stop the aging process in humans! It was apparent by the fact that the words "I have figured out a way to stop the aging process in humans!" were written boldly in three different colors (green and two different shades of blue, as the first blue ran out).
A stranger peers into the lab of Gordon Gordon
Imagine the possibilities of what he has to gain with such an invention! He could sell the formula to some kind of drug company or something and make enough money the buy a new house, all of his previous belongings, and still have enough left over to buy clones of his entire dead family! He decided to wait until the scientist was sleeping to try and steal the amazing concoction.

Unfortunately for that stranger, Gordon Gordon had ingested some potent chemicals that not only made him act completely irrationally, but also prevented him from sleeping at all for at least the next 45 hours. Of course, the stranger had no idea, so after everything seemed quiet in the lab the stranger made his way to the front entrance, which wasn't too difficult to bypass seeing as it was simply a thin rotting sheet hanging by a couple of nails.

The stranger stood  in the doorway, smiling at himself for making such quick and easy work of entering the lab. He started to walk over to the various shelves and tables to begin searching for his prize. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he began to hear a disturbing shriek come from above his head. He looked up just in time to see a completely insane scientist with wild buldging eyes falling towards him from the ceiling, with a sharp looking scalpel in his left hand.

Unfortunately, on his way down from his hiding spot, Gordon Gordon managed to hit his head on the corner of a lab table. He was unable to apprehend this savage criminal, but the stranger was spooked enough to get the hell out of there. He wasted no time bounding out the door and down the road, only looking back towards the lab several times.

Gordon Gordon woke up in a few hours in a small pool of his own blood on the floor. He took a moment to recall his surroundings, then suddenly bolted upright, smacking his head loudly on the same corner that knocked him out before. Again, he fell slowly to the floor and landed in the same pool of blood.

A couple hours later, he woke up again with a ridiculous headache. He turned over on to his side to look towards the door way. There was no sign of the intruder and the memory was getting a bit hazy. However, he did notice a small white shoe that looked like it belonged to a child mysteriously strewn near the doorway. He picked it up and disgustedly threw it into the garbage, not knowing who it belonged to or how it got into his lab.




Tuesday, September 22, 2015

A New Age of Ghumada

After completely destroying downtown Ghumada in a fiery incident, Dictator Kerver has gone missing. Several concerned citizens, including Conspiracy Jim and Heavy Harold, have compiled several theories, including that the Dictator was assassinated, or that he was actually an alien, and they even went so far as to suggest the idea that he was assassinated by aliens. However, there is compelling evidence in the forms of eye-witness reports and video footage suggesting that he took off in a makeshift boat constructed with dead leaves held together by what appears to be unopened bottles of superglue taped together.
Conspiracy Jim





This guy



It is safe to say that we will never see Carver Kerver again, mostly due to the fact that his boat fell apart just two minutes after entering the water and he was consumed by some kind of shark looking creature, it might have been a bird.

Ghumada is left as a smoldering wasteland filled with dangerous creatures and radiation (although it wasn't much better before, possibly worse actually). The citizens have no option but to completely rebuild it from the ground up. Unless they choose to move to the conveniently neighboring country of Gordhongo just 3 miles to the southwest. Most of them probably won't figure that out though.

Meanwhile, Gordon Gordon appears to have taken refuge in a small emergency shelter. The shelter, investigated by our undercover informant (essentially a rat with a small low quality camera glued to its back) is constructed of a small hole-filled sheet suspended over the former site of Gordon Gordon's lab. The land is now essentially a large crater formed when an experiment involving a makeshift atomic bomb and several rusty nails went completely according to plan.
Gordon Gordon eats something he found on the ground in his bunker.

It appears that he has given up all hope of restoring Ghumada to it's former glory. It actually wasn't that great before but it is somehow even worse now. He will probably continue to pursue his interest in growing strange glowing mushrooms and other fascinating plants. When we tried to talk to Gordon Gordon he ran away as soon as he saw us approaching, paranoiacally muttering to himself something about "rogue clone giants". We are unsure what this means but we did discover a small bag of what appeared to be dried mushrooms in the spot he was sitting. We hypothesize that he was using these mushrooms as flavoring in some new recipes.

As we sit in Gordon Gordon's bunker waiting for him to return, (we can see him look around the corner every once in a while then quickly go back into hiding) a strange rattling noise can be heard over the hill. We listen to this noise for about 2 hours without any particular interest. However, as the noise grows louder we can see a strange looking man pushing a small metal cart through the rubble and debris of the ruins of Ghumada. There were no roads to begin with (just dirt paths carved out by some plastic rakes) so this man appears to be having a great struggle pushing his cart through the whole mess. As he gets closer we can see the steam rising off of his head.

Finally the man arrives to our position. He introduces himself as Albert the food man. His cart is made of some rusted pieces of scrap metal help together with some pieces of string. On the side scrawled in red paint are the letters "Albert's Food Cart". The words have been crossed out several times and re-painted to account for spelling errors.

As Albert bends over his knees trying to catch his breath still, we notice that the steam rising from his sweat drenched body is turning into real smoke. The smoke begins to thicken and change colors. Albert is a fantastic display of red, blue, green, and red smoke spiraling into the sky.
at this point Albert is completely horrified and in no way impressed. He is running around, tripping over loose ends of metal beams and other miscellaneous hazards. At one point his hand somehow becomes detached and he has to stop to pick it up off of the ground.

While Albert is being a lunatic freak show, we help ourselves to his food cart. Upon opening the metal tray in the top we discover that the only food item in his inventory is a crusty loaf of bread.

Outraged, Albert falls over dead. Suddenly Gordon Gordon pops out of his hiding place inside an old fallen over chimney and celebrates wildly at the apparent success of his latest experiment. He pulls out a small bomb and throws it into the air. He puts on a small pair of safety glasses and proudly watches as it detonates into millions of tiny fragments. It appears as if everything has gone according to Gordon Gordon's master scheme all along.






Monday, March 23, 2015

Citizens Neutralized, Dictator Kerver Takes Power

It turns out that Carver Kerver's plans were very different from what we originally thought they were. He has been waiting patiently in the woods for a very long time for the perfect opportunity to take power.
Gordon Gordon finally perfected a device that will allow Dictator Kerver to speak real English, and it turns out that Kerver is actually a genius in most subjects (except for palm trees and soap making).

Kerver used the current Klop Froth outbreak to his advantage by offering a free vaccine to any citizens of Ghumada (and also Big Bob, who surprisingly did not show up). However, what the citizens didn't know was that there was no outbreak, he made it all up! Furthermore, the vaccine wasn't a vaccine, it was a special blend of chemicals created by Gordon Gordon. It was believed to contain several common substances such as nitrous oxide, diacetylmorphine, methylenedioxymethamphetamine, and candle wax. Citizens are now required to inject this special blend twice a day, and they don't seem to mind too much. This has caused the riots to settle down at least 100%, except for Crunchy Ken, who was exiled to the Land of Misery to dig drainage pipes for the rest of eternity. The Land of Misery now contains a total of 4,000,000 drainage pipes, although that is just an estimate because no one really wants to count drainage pipes in the Land of Misery.

Pope Frosty Antelope Supreme Dong VIIIIIIIVIIIIIIIXX will remain a religious consultant for now, although he has no influence when it comes to political decisions anymore.
Dictator Kerver's revised higharchy chart 
There is still no sign of President Jaquan.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Lead Science Department Destroyed in Freak Accident

            Late last week, lead scientist Gordon Gordon, while experimenting with unravelling the mysteries of Automatic Cantaloupes, was involved in a serious accident involving extremely dangerous flip-switches. We do not have many details at this time, and we do not plan to receive any more. The only thing that remains of the smoldering site of the accident was a single piece of paper, buried among the ruins of what was once the ECEGSLOGTGGUTCSE, The Experimental-Complex-Expensive-Great-Science-Lab of Ghumada That Gordon Gordon Uses to Conduct Science Experiments. Gordon Gordon is now believed to be in intensive care under Dr. Hiffle Jhee in the National Hospital of Ghumada (which received 2.29.3 stars out of 5 in its last inspection).
The paper uncovered from the ruins was believed to be written by Orkle Albana, Gordon Gordon’s un-trusted lab assistant of 23 years. He describes in startling detail the unlawful experiments being conducted in the lab. But of course, Ghumada doesn’t have any laws so the experiments were not actually unlawful. The last entry was dated August 46, 200014*.


August 46, 200014
Good hell it’s getting steamy in here I believe it’s time for the experiment’s results to process. GG has been working on this one for so long and I think he will be excited that it is time. (Loud crash) oh no I think one of them has escaped (scuffling noises) oh hell the damn thing is loose ahhhhhh. Just kidding I was just practicing my screenplay novel that didn’t actually happen hahahahahaha. But the Varmins are getting pretty restless so I’ll go give them their daily allowances of seven slices.



We still have yet to fully analyze this literature, as our lead analyzer, O’glascoe P’dascoe, is currently conducting a voodoo ceremony for the National Ghumada Elementary for Juveniles. So for now, we can only assume that Gordon Gordon has gone too far into the secrets of Pork-Grinds. 

Picture of the remains of Gordon Gordon's Lab

Friday, May 23, 2014

New! Gordon Gordon Invents Automatic Gladiator!

Hello! It is I, Gordon Gordon! i have invented! something new! I call it the Automatic Gladiator! or just Automatic Gladiator for short! What is does is it lets you just use it! Then you can have a personal warrior! This will be like a new Meat-bot! They can be Ghumada's Army warriors!

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Frivolous Plague Hits Ghumada

Today the beginning of a new era has begun. A great plague has stricken the country. One will notice the many hoards of inhabitants that have gone missing from society. This is due to the horrible effects of the Klop-Froth G plague, developed by our very own scientist. Gordon Gordon.


Close up of the Klop-Froth G bacteria

It all started one night when Gordon Gordon was on his way back home from his laboratory. It was then that he realized that he forgot his car, so he immediately turned around and walked back to the parking lot.

When he got back to his laboratory, it was already 6:00. So, realizing it would be dark in about 4 hours, he did the most logical thing by staying the night in his laboratory.

In the lab, Gordon Gordon couldn't help but play around with a few specimens from his collection. he started playing with the black plague, and realized it would be pretty cool if he combined it with SmallPox™. And so, Klop-Froth G was created.


Now, over 73.000000099% of the country has been infected with the Klop-Froth G plague. Infected victims will first notice an extreme swelling of the throat and left arm. Then, their eyes will fall out like a light bulb that's not screwed in (they will shatter when they hit the ground). The final stage of Klop-Froth G includes a state of insecurity and extreme pain in several spots of the body. After this stage, it is already too late and the victim will swell up and spontaneously explode.
Gordon Gordon is "not too concerned about the outbreak, because we will probably find a cure eventually". Pope Guadalupe is being held in protective custody, because President Jaquan has already suffered the extreme effects of the plague. Guadalupe says, "I just wish I would have packed some extra cables, so I could have some extra cables". 
We are hopeful for a cure by tomorrow, when Gordon Gordon is said to wake up from his 8 week nap.




Friday, May 9, 2014

Startling news about Gordon Gordon

We've discovered some startling secrets about Gordon Gordon, our lead scientist here at the Ghumada Candhi Commiteration. It is common knowledge that Gordon Gordon was grown from a pig seed. However, what you may not know is his early life.

Gordon Gordon was a mysterious man; it is rumoured that he grew from a British pig seed, as that was where he was first spotted. The first major incident that involved Gordon Gordon was when he revealed himself as a swindler. He used imposterisim and fraudulentalizing to imposterize and fraudulize well over $30,000 from a group of London jewelers.

Gordon Gordon then moved to Minnesota, which became his permanent place of residence. He met another shady man knownly only as Gould who made some startling claims. Gould wanted to gain control of the Erie Railroad, and Gordon Gordon said he could help him get it. Gould sent him $1,000,000 in stocks, but Gordon Gordon scammed him and sold it immediately. Gould then sued Gordon Gordon, and things looked bleak.

But luckily, Gordon Gordon tricked the court by sending them false references in return for getting bail. While the court was checking the references, Gordon Gordon took this opportunity to flee to Canada. He then convinced Canadian authorities that the allegations brought against him were false. After failing to convince or force Canadian authorities to hand over Gordon Gordon, Gould and his associates, who included two future Governors of Minnesota and three future Members of Congress, attempted to kidnap him. They initially succeeded, but were stopped by the Canadian mounted police.

The kidnappers were imprisoned and were not given bail, which led to an international incident. The Governor of Minnesota activated the state militia, and thousands of Minnesotans volunteered for a full-scale military invasion of Canada. The Canadians were pressured into releasing the prisoners, and were forced to deport Gordon Gordon. Gordon Gordon barely managed to escape and find refuge in the Ghumada Candhi Commiteration, where he is now lead scientist. The government managed to convince the press that Gordon Gordon committed suicide, but this is false information as he is actually immortal.


Thursday, May 8, 2014

Pope Guadalupe Meets With Dr. Martinez

On ZzzzzZDay (the day after Sunday and befire Monday) of last week Pope Guadalupe interviewed Dr. Sebastian Fredrico Juarez Lupe Pancho Pedro Tomas Ricardo LawnMower Burrito Francisco Pablo Martinez. Here is what he had to say:

"I enjoy to rub furry duck on the beef."

Based on their leader's startling claim here, it's clear that our neighboring country of Ghordongo has gone way too far this time.


We must take immediate action. As the noble Pope of the Committeration, I hereby reccommend that we declare war on Ghordongo. We have a sufficient army of meat-bots (designed by lead scientist Gordon Gordon) to send into Ghordongo. The Ghordongians will never suspect our assault, so we will have a great advantage.

In order to declare war, we need approval by the president.Also, the coal miners will need to work very hard in order to get enough coal to power the army.

Friday, May 2, 2014

Official Symbol of Ghuddism

Within Ghuddism there lies many traditional values. Included are several Sacred Symbols. The first Sacred Symbol is the Sacred Triangle.


The Great Mohammed Bin Laden first discovered this amazing geometric wonder when he was at a hysteric coordinate convention. It was there that he witnessed the most important event that year (23456 BC). He did not, however, go into great detail about what this event was specifically.

The main symbol that represents Ghuddism is the so-sacred-that-it's-almost-not-sacred Hyster-Lick.



Nobody truly knows for sure where the Hyster-Lick originated. Some say that the symbol was carved into the rock as the Earth was being formed, where it was witnessed by an old fellow who shared the symbol with his companions. Others say that it is the logo of an ancient lawn mowing company. But we're pretty sure they didn't have lawn mowers trillions of years ago, so we just go with the first story.