Deactivated Robuts...

Tell No Tales...

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More Slurkey Mr. Lightfoot?

Source photo has been modified slightly

 

Folksinger Gordon Lightfoot is not one to turn down seconds of the succulent hot buttered beast.

Good Oozings To You and All of Your Kin!

The Carving of the Slurkey



The carving of the slurkey:  A dangerous and festive event taking place each year at a time roughly corresponding to the Earth's winter Solstice.  Though technically dead, the roast slurkey takes months to accept its death thus the carving of the slurkey requires a second slaying of the decapitated, scaled, and baked beast.  Preparation of the barely dead animal must be done carefully with the beast being kept anesthetized throughout the decapitation, scaling, baking, and basting process.  A great deal of care and diligence must be exercised by the cook for a scaled-decaptitated slurkey if allowed to waken is quite a formidably stupid and angry decedent. 

When the slurkey has been fully cooked, the Slurkeador, generally the male head of the house, greases his body ceremonially before prodding the beast with his doinker to rouse it.  When roused the beast will fight, often for days.  The battle continues until either the Slurkeador or the slurkey prevails.  The courageous Slurkeador must battle the dead animal using nothing more than the ceremonial doinker and carving knife.  Should the slurkey emerge victorious it is returned its scales and head, ushered to the front door and told to "return proud beast for this year there shall be no feast!"  The majestic and assuredly dead animal is then unceremoniously shot to second-death, slapped onto a waiting serving platter, buttered, peppered, and served with gravy. 

 

Dead, Roused, and Angry

It has been remarked by many an observer that there is no sweeter slurkey than that which was shot to second-death in the back.  Sleech scientists and gourmands hypothesize that it is the sweet taste of a residual hope for freedom that the dead animal secretes when "freed." Perhaps it has more to do with the fact that the male head of the house is frequently a major bother and that his recent death has simply put the rest of the family in high spirits.

Introducing Slor

Slor, a sleech, a male sleech..

Slor: a sleech, a race of extraterrestrial space tourist. 
It is ill advised to ever invite a sleech to dinner..  They'll stay for weeks, consume all of your carbon based matter, and slime your toilet seats.
 

Introducing Øvax

Øvax, every bit as smooth as that name sounds..

Øvax: all-purpose spring-powered mechano-bot and the all too cliched anti-villain of the first Alfland tale. 

100

100

A quick composition commemorating my 100th tweet and more or less the same number of followers. Absolutely superfluous.  Ad absurdum..

 

 

Introducing Ångstrom

Ångstrom S. Hexnut

Ångstrom: an o-bot, long range reconnaissance bot.  He's all business no pleasure.  Dreadfully unfun.