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.

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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. 

Life of a Ghumada Factory Employee

1:00 AM in the morning 

Roy Gibson is a typical Ghumada Factory employee. He wakes up at 1:00 AM in the morning already dressed in his factory employee clothes ready to go to his factory job. He tries to carefully roll out of bed to not disturb his wife Rita, who is not a factory employee and does not have to wake up at 1:00 AM in the morning in order to go work in the factory. However, he is unsuccessful as he tries to climb over her instead of just casually rolling off his side of the bed. Roy excitedly runs out the door to begin his long journey to the factory, where he is employed as a factory employee.

Roy in bed with all his bed friends

2:00 AM in the morning

Roy is still walking to work. It is a very long walk (about 30 miles). Roy sometimes wishes he had some sort of machine to help him move faster such as a lawn mower or a cow. His factory employee friend George always ties his cow outside the factory because he rides his cow to work. It must be exciting, having that kind of luxury.

Roy walks to work through the suburbs of Ghumada

3:00 AM

Still walking.

3:25 AM
Roy arrives at his favorite scenic trail on the way to the factory.

5:00 AM

Roy has finally arrived. However, his factory employee job does not begin until around 10:00 AM in the morning so he will have to wait outside for a little bit. Roy has now begun to question why he follows this silly routine. However, questioning his silly routine is a part of his silly routine that he experiences every day so he moves on without any further questions.

The factory where Roy is employed as a factory employee. He is not quite sure what the purpose of the factory is, he just shows up every day because he is paid a very fair 4 cents an hour, which he uses to support his family. 

6:25 AM

Roy's factory employee friend Bobby arrives at this time. He has never actually heard Bobby speak, but he is always the first one to arrive after Roy at precisely 6:25 AM every day. He's not completely positive, but Roy is pretty sure 6:25 has some sort of significance to Bobby like it's his favorite color or something. Bobby just stares at Roy uncomfortably for 4 hours until the factory work begins.

Roy's friend Bobby

8:00 AM

Roy sees a strange figure approaching from the distance. He can tell it is the boss man approaching. The boss man doesn't have any name, he just tells everyone to call him boss man. Even his name tag on his freshly pressed suit just says 'boss man'. Boss man is a strange yet efficient man, which is probably why he is the boss. As the boss man approaches the factory entrance, he notices Roy and suddenly he is extremely angry.
"Roy! My office! Now!" He screams, streams of dirty saliva flying all around everywhere. Bobby just chuckles and scurries off into the forest, running by crawling using his arms and legs like a wild animal. Roy slowly rises to a standing position, his legs shaking uncontrollably. When the boss man is angry, nothing good ever happens. Last time the boss man got angry, Old Lady Greta walked into that office and was never seen again.

The boss man, a strange looking yet efficient man 

8:30 AM

Roy ducks under the low door that leads into the boss man's office. The office is actually just a repurposed cardboard box with smaller cardboard box inside that serves as a desk. Boss man is facing away from Roy, staring out the window, which is actually just a square drawn into the side of the the office with a picture of a bird drawn on a piece of paper.
"Roy, do you understand why I have called you into my cool office?" asks the boss man.
"Not really" replies Roy, for he is as honest as he is dedicated to his factory job.
"Me either, get out" the boss man tells Roy. Roy leaves the office without any further questions.

Boss man's office

9:00 AM

Roy is getting noticeably more excited as the time for the factory work to commence grows ever nearer. The doors to the factory open at precisely 9:01 AM, and he is about to piss his pants with anticipation. He stares eagerly at his watch, which is just a square drawn onto his arm with a marker. He updates it every minute by glancing at the watch on his other wrist that he wears to keep track of the minutes. As the tiny bar spins towards the top of the watch, he holds the marker steady in his other hand to record the changing minute. After several more agonizing seconds, it is finally time to begin the factory work. A rudely loud siren begins to blare for 2 seconds as the time turns to 9:01 AM. This is the signal that the factory is opening now. The tall doors to the factory begin to slide open on their own, with a loud screeching noise accompanying the action as if the doors are in need of a nice lubrication. Roy eagerly darts inside before the doors are even finished opening.

9:02 AM

Roy enters the decontamination room, the place where he must take 3-5 showers before beginning his work so as not to contaminate the delicate products with his bodily wastes. He steps under an unoccupied shower faucet still fully clothed in his factory uniform. He begins to scream nervously as the faucet sprays out scalding hot liquid that jets out more steam than actual water.  It usually takes him around 2-3 hours to complete this process, but today he is especially eager to begin his work so it only takes him 4 hours. By the time he is done, his skin is red and blistering, but he is enthusiastic about beginning his important factory job.

1:00 PM
It is finally time to begin the factory work. Roy proudly steps out of the decontamination room and into the large open warehouse where the work is done. There is nothing in the expansive space except for a small wooden table in the very center of the room, beneath a small flashing light bulb that swings back and forth on the long cord it is attached to on the cathedral like ceiling. Roy begins to realize with horror that this is not the factory he works at. This is some kind of trick. He quickly turns around and runs back the way that he came from, all the way out the large doors until he is outside again. He keeps running all the way back to his simple apartment, where he can finally spend some time with his family after another tough day at work.

The Mystery of the Expanisve Grass Field

The Ghumada wilderness is one of the most unrelenting and dangerous places in existence. Beyond the safety of the walls which enclose the 3  actualcities in Ghumada, one will face extremely dangerous environments including sections of desert, Arctic tundra just to the north of the desert, and beyond that one will have to face the truly unstoppable forces of the Ghumada Jungle. 

No one has ever explored the Ghumada Jungle and returned in one piece. One time, legendary explorer Human Hoffman managed to reach the city after a thorough exploration, however he was reportedly carrying at least 4 severed body parts (we do not have full details on which body parts). All the information that we know of the Ghumada Jungle was the verbal account of Human Hoffman on his death bed, because for some reason he didn't think to  keep a journal or something to record his findings. 

The extent of Hoffman's injuries were so severe that not even the top Ghumada surgeon knew what to do. He only had around 7 minutes to recount the tales of his experience in the Ghumada Jungle. In this time, he tells the tale of an amazingly beautiful land hidden within the relentless jungles. He claims that in this land there is no violence, war, or unhappy feelings. Apparently there are not even any buildings or sidewalks. Instead, there are thriving fields of grass for as far as it is possible to see. The people that inhabit this land are reportedly simple, kind, and carefree. 

As one could expect, this theory has been the root of much speculation and debate among top Ghumada theorists. Here's what top Ghumada theorist Kwola Frankton had to say about the rumored mythical land:

"I do not believe in many things. This thing would be included because as far as I have seen, I have not seen it."

Kwola Frankton

In order to settle this debate once and for all, the Ghumada government has decided to partner with Ghumada News to launch a full expedition into the Ghumada wilderness. The best living explorers in Ghumada are being drafted to be a part of an elite exploration team. There is also an explorer who does not live in Ghumada but we are including him anyway. Most of the government's funds are being invested into this exploration. This is somewhat strange considering all the cities in Ghumada are experiencing a shortage of all materials including food, water, and furniture polish. However, the board has agreed that this takes priority because they are "bored of doing all the same stuff all the time". 

Threatening Conspiracy Halts Government Function

An exciting development involving the newly formed Ghumada Government has citizens lined up in hordes in front a tiny soup kitchen this morning. They might not know about the development but that's ok. It appears as the government's activities have been suspended  due to unforeseen circumstances gathered from intel stationed on the Ghumada and Gordhongo border.

Agent Bread woke the entire Ghumada informer panel at approximately 3:05 this morning in a single urgent screech from across the river. He yelled into the 16th story window, desperately attempting to inform the panel of something important. After being asked to repeat his statement 14 times, he finally gave up and proceeded to jump into the river, where it has been rumored that some suspicious monsters enjoy to roam, usually on Wednesdays.

Agent Bread

For obvoius reasons, this chilled the very souls of the Ghumada informant panel. For this reason, they decided to abandon all of their positions. They inverbally and unanimously decided to simultaneously make a sly escape through the thin shatter proof glass windows (from the 16th floor). Luckily, the head member of the panel, Wingslow Jopman, had prepared for this very event the night before by installing some sketchy waterslides outside the window of the 16th floor. Unfortunately, he ordered the wrong size from the ancient water slide company and ended up with water slides that only reached down to the 5th floor. This created a slightly suspected surprise for the panel members.

In their haste of leaving, it was later discovered that the panel members left behind a single shriveled up corpse in the head seat of the panel discussion table. A crude note, appearing to have been written in a hurry due to the fact that it was written on a rotting black banana peel, left vague instructions for whoever discovered the shriveled up corpse, that this shriveled up corpse is now the new leader of Ghumada due to the fact that the entire panel had abandoned their positions. They also left a scribble carved into the discussion table that they were heading to the south sea and swimming for land. This may be a problem as the closest land in the south sea is a small volcanic rock floating 3000 miles east.

Ghumada Informant Panel group photo 1933

This would not be a problem, however Steward Corkle purchased the floating volcanic rock back in 55 when the earthquakes started, and now inhabits it, spending his days crouched under a tiny damaged umbrella. The dilemma of nowhere to rendezvous at has left the members of the panel with nowhere to go. The 9 and a half panel members (one guy lost his legs in a tragic fall on the way out of the building) can now be seen helplessly drifting in freezing monster ridden waters. We could go help them if we wanted to however it was voted against in a committee meeting in a score of 1-9. Also we don't really feel like leaving. At this time we still have no intel as to the exact reasoning of Agent Bread's urgent message. 

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.

Of the Curious Journals of Jungalo Johnson

In his time, the great Jungalo Johnson was the most well known explorer in Ghumada. Perhaps his most exciting discovery was the large sheet of ice formed along the Great Ghumada River in the winter of 1822. Of course, he didn't discover the actual river, just a rather short lived sheet of ice that grew along it for a couple of days.

By the time he was around 84 years of age, Jungalo Johson was ready to make a discovery so huge that nobody would be able to forget about him for the remainder of the universe. So, he assembled his trusty crew consisting of him, his brother, Lungalo Johnson, who had somehow handcuffed himself to a large wooden anchor (iron wasn't invented yet in Ghumada) several years before, and 3 partially brain dead monkeys that functioned only to sweep the small on-board kitchen whenever the water leaked in (which happened quite frequently; their boat was kind of shitty.)

After about 16 minutes of packing and preparation, Jungalo and Lungalo Johnson were ready to leave. Of course, they weren't aware that there wouldn't be anywhere to stock up on food in the middle of the ocean so they didn't pack any. This would prove to be a deadly mistake in the near future for the monkeys on board.

The brothers eagerly waved goodbye to the cheering crowds stationed at the Ghumada Port (destroyed in the horrible explosion that followed several hours later). Journalist Billy Biaston captured the whole experience on a single slice of thin paper, which appeared to be a napkin which he had wiped his mouth on repeatedly before (or possibly after) writing on it. Unfortunately, the document appears to have been incinerated and the only legible writing left behind is the word "the". It was not very helpful in the writing of this article.

only known photograph of the SS Antipurgatory leaving the Ghumada Harbor

On their way out, the brothers, not hugely experienced with the steering of their huge ship, accidently rammed into an innocent fisherman who decided to park his boat in the narrow passage from the port to the sea. The poor man didn't even have time to scream before he was completely overcome by the SS Antipurgatory. This fisherman is said to have tormented the brothers for the duration of their voyage. Of course this is only a rumour told by several conspirasts who were born 30 years after the voyage left with no evidence whatsoever.

this fisherman's tormented soul may have inhabited the ship for the duration of its journey and probably longer

The following is a short experpt from the journal that Jungalo Johnson kept fo the first 3 weeks of his journey. He would have kept writing but the only thing available to write on was a couple of dirty rags that the monkeys used to clean the ovens every Thursday,.

"Day 1
i have spotted a large sea dot. It does not appear to have moved since the last time I gazed upon it at 2. I will continue to watch the strange anomaly until it moves."

This clearly proves that Jungalo had to endure some very vertical conditions! By verbal account of his journey passed down by some natives on a strange isalnd off the coast of Ghumada, it appears as if Jungalo Johnson did not bring a map with him, which could be a contributing factor in why the vessel got lost at sea for over 30 years, considering he didn't even graduate from 2nd grade and has next to no knowledge on geography.

About 15 years after the last known contact with the crew of the SS Purgatory (the day they left the harbor, the short range radios stopped working after about 5 minutes) when everyone thought the entire crew was long dead, a local docile pirate called simply "Hortttt" (short for Hortttttttttt) spotted the ship off the coast of his lonely village( he's the only one that lives there since no one wants to be friends with a docile pirate for some reason). He immediately sounded the boat horn, utilizing the 35 long blasts that he was trained to use for this specific situation. Shortly after, the entire Ghumada government came rushing to the scene in their large vans and such (eyewitness reports also indicate that there could have been an off roading train). However, the authorities dismissed the case, as there was no way the ship could have been real (ghost ship sightings were on an exponential increase in the last 8 years). So, they left and Hortttt sadly watched the boat drift away until it crashed into some rocks and that was the last he saw of it.

Hortttt the docile pirate spots a boat

There were no other reports of the missing crew until 2 weeks ago, when the boat amazingly drifted into the dock of Old Man Yuti's ski resort! Somehow the boat and its crew had not only survived for 34 years, but they managed to maneuver it over 3,000 miles of uneven terrain in the mountains of mid-eastern Ghumada! Old Man Yuti is reportedly upset about the strange green streak marks the ship has left behind it on the ground through his ski mountains.

Yuti is not pleased. He is some kind of strange purple native

We are still trying to catch up with the strange travels of Jungalo Johnson. He has been sitting in a small enclosed space since he got back 3 weeks ago just talking non stop. Like he seriously hasn't paused for one second, not even to eat or drink or breathe. He's like 130 years old so he says he wants to share everything before he can die, since he didn't write anything down anywhere. Somewhere along the way some natives slipped him some strange chemicals that rendered him in a permanent drug induced euphoria so he hasn't been acting right fora while. There is still no sign of his brother or the sweeping monkeys.

Ghumada Forms First Alliance

A previously unknown country has been discovered by the great explorer Jungalo Johnson, who has apparently been on a voyage for the past 34 years and has decided to return now. The new country is called Humpyev.

Newly drafted map of Ghuamda's surrounding lands

As shown in the newly drafted map, Humpyev is located to the east of  Ghumada's rivaling nation of Gordhongo. In order to create a strategic advantage in case of all out war between Ghumada and Gordhongo, the emergency council of Ghumada currently acting as the government has decided to form an alliance with Humpyev. The council, consisting of 3 members: Patricia Marmon (President Jaquan's former first lady), Obagi Obalow, and some guy that works at a donut shop down the road and saw the meeting so decided to sit down, have, after much conversation, decided to send a representative to Humpyev to discuss an arrangement with the Humpyev president, President Muffalarp.

Proposed highway to Humpyev.

One of the matters up for debate is a proposed highway to Humpyev. This highway will completely sidetrack Gordhongo, enabling travel directly between Ghumada and Humpyev. This will allow for transportation of important materials like metal bars and bat cages. The highway, which is planned to be built completely on top of the water, will cost an estimated $444444444. (These statistics brought to you by lead Ghumada statistical expert Klarke Jingles, who may have been using an old bar of soap to calculate the data) It is unknown where the funds will come from as Ghumada is currently in trillions of dollars of debt. The council is hoping that Humpyev has access to more resources than Ghumada currently has, including all building materials and engineers, as Ghumada has none of those.

Visit humpyev.com to learn more about this strange land.

breaking news update: 

After a long 3 week journey by horseback across the water, Ghumada Prime Minister Obagi Obalow has arrived in Humpyev and met with Humpyev President Muffalarp. After a very unproductive meeting, (which took place in a small closed room so it was difficult to see what was happening, but when they opened the door a cloud of thick black smoke poured out) the two leaders have agreed to form an alliance. Under the new alliance, bound by an unprofessional looking contract written in a blue marker that ran out of ink halfway through the writing, Ghumada and Humpyev have agreed to combine collective forces to use whatever power necessary to stop Gordhongo from committing their evil crimes against the world. 

Prime Minister Obalow (left) and President Muffalarp (right) meet to discuss the terms of the alliance

more breaking news!!!!

It appears as if Gordhongo president Dr. Martinez has caught word of the newly formed alliance! Our spies in Gordhongo have informed us that while observing the capital building in downtown Gordhongo through some shitty binoculars, they spotted Dr. Martinez repeatedly kicking a picture of Pope Guadalupe IV in a mad outrage!

Dr. Martinez, president of Gordhongo, has gone completely insane!

 Citizens in Ghumada and Humpyev alike are obviously completely terrified after this act of violence, so they are taking appropiate measures. One Humpyevian citizen, Horace Yungaleek, stated in an interview that "I am taking the family of mine and I am taking them leave". We believe this means that there is a shortage of cotton grinds in humpyev, which is luckily one of Ghumada's only exportable goods. 

Horace Yungaleek, a typical Humpyevian citizen

It appears that citizens in Humpyev have a quality of life similar to those in Ghumada. The temperature is around -43 degrees Fahrenheit year round, but several witnesses led us to believe that they actually enjoy these extreme temperatures, apparent by the fact that most people walk around nearly naked in 4 feet of snow.

typical scene on a Humpyev street during the summer

It is believed that Ghumada and Humpyevian governments and travel agencies will soon open up the possibility of leisurely travel between the two countries, although Ghumada is not exactly a "family friendly" tourist location, with child labor on an exponential increase and nuclear radiation all around.

humpyev.com
ghumada.com