Little Stubborn Stewie

Here is the story of Little Stubborn Stewie:

Stewie was a very stubborn and whiney child. He lived on a farm with his family, and they didn't like it when Stewie got stubborn.

One fine morning, Stewie's father told Stewie it was time to get up to go to school. Elementary School. Stewie hated school. Elementary School. He really didn't like going because there was this ugly kid with a potato up his nose (of which Stewie was stubbornly convinced it was because he angered the Idahoan at recess) that made fun of him because he was beefy and had carrot red hair. And then, he couldn't forget the one girl with the sock on her face (and this he stubbornly believed was due to a wardrobe accident, though there was much speculation on that fact) who glowered at him whenever he sharpened his pencil. He hated school. Elementary School.

So when Stewie's dad called him downstairs to get ready for school, he stubbornly began to think of excuses. He played in bed until his dad came up to get him.

"Come on Stew, it is time to go to school,"
Elementary School.

"But the sun isn't up!" whined Stewie stubbornly.

"That is just fine, Stew. Just get up. it is time to go to school."
Elementary School.

Stewie sighed. He immediately moved to his next plan (plan B).

"I can't go!" protested Stewie. "The chickens haven't yet had their eggs gathered."

"That is perfectly ok, Stew. It's time to go to school."
Elementary School.

"But," Stewie said stubbornly. "The cows haven't been milked!"

"Stew, you have to go to school!"
Elementary School.

Stewie thought for a moment. "I don't want to go. I'm sick."

Stewie's father looked at him with the I'm-now-going-to-tell-you-a-horror-story-to-get-you-to-drop-the-childish-stubborness-so-you'll-do-what-I-ask look. Stewie knew what it was coming.

"You know, Stewie..." his father began. Stewie joined in with his father word, for word.

"Zombie bugs come out when stubborn (and whiny) children don't do what their parents ask them. Especially when the parents aren't around. If you stay home, Stew, the zombie bugs will eat you alive." mocked Stewie, rolling his eyes. "You know dad, it intimidated me when I was, like 7, but now I'm 7 and 2 months. I can stay home all by myself. There are no such things as Zombie bugs." Stewie stubbornly stood his ground.

His father gave in like a brick wall versus a potato cannon. "Alright Stewie, if you want to be so stubborn. I'm going to work in the city today. They flowers in the roundabout are dying, and instead of bringing in the harvest from our own fields, I will beautify the city we don't even live in." Stewie's father left.

Stewie buried himself deeper into the folds of his bed and closed his eyes. About an hour later he felt something skittering about on the floor. Disregarding it for his weenie dog, Bugget, he turned over...to come FACE TO ANTENNA WITH A GIANT COCKROACH! It's little eyes were white and unseeing. Stewie flicked it off his bed nonchalantly and closed his eyes.

Suddenly, he heard a little voice speaking in a British accent.

"Naow, wot did yew dew that for?"

Stewie, beleiveing he was dreaming, replied in the same accent (but mockingly).

"Well, oi thought oi wood git yew out of moy sleepin' space." He opened his eyes to find the speaker. Casting his eyes about the room, he didn't see anyone. He dropped the accent. "Where are you?"

"Oi'm roight he-ah, caln't yew see me? Down He-ah!" Stewie looked down. Standing on the floor by his bed was a little man in a plaid shirt and white hair with slacks and tennis shoes. He was wearing glasses and looked slightly like a Band teacher he used to have. His hair ranged from Stone grey to snow white.

"Ooooh-kay. Well I'm gonna go back to sleep." Stewie rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. After a moment, he heard a strange scrabbling noise scritcha-scratching across his floor. It sounded like a mass army of zombie bugs. Stewie rolled his eyes beneath his eyelids.

Then as if he had heard his thoughts, Stewie heard the little man shout, "That's because they are ...

ZOMBIE BUGS!!!!!

Stewie sat up quicker than thunder! "AHHHH! DAD WAS RIGHT! THERE ARE SUCH THINGS AS

ZOMBIE BUGS!!!!! "

There were hordes and hordes of them! The floor was carpeted with black beetle hides and crawlie spider legs and silky fly wings! All of the zillions of eyes were milky white and sightless, and the worst part, his weenie dog, Bugget had been zombified too!! Bugget stood there drooling stupidly, and mounted on his flee collar was the little man with Stone grey hair. He had crazed look in his eyes.

"CHARGE!!!!! " he screamed with fire in his eyes!

All at once, the carpet surged upward and onto Stewies bed. From the outside, an eldritch scream tore the dewy morning. Daisy the cow flicked her tail and continued chewing cud. She was a cow, and why would she care about anything other than her cud? She quickly whipped a fly in the eye. Yes, Skore!!

The farm was quiet the rest of the day until Stewie's father came home. He opened the door, feeling exhuberant. He thought nothing of the silence of the house, the strange, and eternal, deathly silence of the house. He, for the time, forgot that Stewie had stayed home from school (Elementary School), so he sat infront of the television to wait for his arrival.

4:00 came and went, and finally, Stewie's father remembered he had decided to stay home from school. Elementary School. He mounted the stairs, opened the door to Stewies room and found Stewie passed out on his bed. His father smiled.

"Stewie! Wake up! School is over!"

Elemenatry School.

Stewie groaned and sat up, rubbing his closed eyelids. "Wow, Dad, I must have slept the day away. I had the most horrible nightmare that there were all these Zombie bugs, and Bugget was a Zombie and there was this little man...and they scratched my eyes out! It was horrible!!"

Stewie's dad patted his head. "don't worry, it's all over now."

Stewie opened his eyes. Everything was dark, pitch black. "Dad, what time is it? Dad? Dad?!"

His father didn't answer, his gaze rivited on Stewies milky white, sightless eyes. "I-its 4:30, the s-sun h-hasn't even g-gone down!!" He managed to stutter out.

Studdenly it hit Stewie. "It...it...wasn't a dream...was it.........?"

Stewie thought he heard a tiny voice laughing maniacally from deep beneath the recesses of his bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The moral of this story is that stubborness can lead to potential blindness, whether it be by simply refusing to walk with scissors rather than run, or refusing to wear goggles during a highly dangerous experiament. And don't mess with the little people. They have trained assassins.

Disclaimer: any person(s) of whose likeness was used in this fable was completely intentional and ment severe harm to self esteem. Let that be a warning to the rest of you....

Little Sally Sockface

Here is a story of little Sally Sock-Face:

Little Sally Sock-Face had a sad life. She had a sock on her face. There really was no way for her to get the sock off her face, no matter what type of bleach they used to try and corrode it off. It still stuck fast.

Sally used to have friends, but then the sock got stuck, and they all went away giving her the title Sally Sock-Face. Instead of saying hi to her in the halls like before, everyone merely looked at her and then held their noses declaring loudly that the sock stunk.

"how would you know?" sally retorted one day at Henery the Hugely Abusive Boy (as she called him), "you aren't the one with the sock on your face? Maybe i should give you a little experience called Sally "Sock-Face 'socks Henery really hard flattening his nose'?"

Hehery the H.A.B. just scoffed and walked away.

"Just wait," vowed Sally Sock-Face, "I'll get him. I'll build a potato cannon and shoot nylons with sprouted yams inside up his nose. See how he likes it."

So then that weekend, Sally googled 'potato cannons' and found out how to assemble one. So she went to his house on saturday night and aimed it at his bedroom window. She quickly set it off.


KABLAMSHATTER!!!!!

An eldritch scream rent the night and was abruptly silenced!!!

Sally shrugged, "the deed is done."

****
She went back to school the next day and didn't see Henery the H.A.B. at all until he sulked in to seventh period Chemistry. The entire class turned to look at the horror that stood before them. In unison, they all (excepting Sally, but including the teacher) hid their eyes! one kid said "I never thought Hollywood would come to UTAH!!!" just as Sally thought, 'Gee, I'm a freakin' good shot!!'

Henery's right nostril (the one with the extremely large "freckle" but sally was conviced it was a mole) was horribly enlarged and stuffed up it was a good thick yam stuffed in a nylon with roots sticking out of holes. Sally inwardly shuddered. Roots in the nasal cavity was probably worse than a root in the canal.

Henery shame-facedly made his way to his seat, vainly trying to hide his deformity.

"Dere id do way for de do'tors do rembove id," sulked Henery, "day sed id was perbabent."

Sally didn't respond, but resumed working on an atomic equation.

She found herself gazing at the yam more often than she could help. It was distracting seeing Henery try and do his homework over his yam. It was distracting seeing Henery peering down his yam to see the board. 'This kid, probably is the most distracting thing to walk the earth!!' All the students unknowingly thought in unison.

Sally just laughed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The moral of this story is that misery loves company. Especially if they can laugh at their companion, knowing that they were the ones causeing the downfall. Whatever you do, don't make enemies with Google addicts, because they know where to find all the potato cannon blue prints. And they generally know where you live. Just don't get involved.

Disclaimer: any person(s) of whose likeness was used in this fable was completely intentional and meant severe harm to self esteem. Let that be a warning to the rest of you....