Boojawa Part 1:
And what we do now is write a short story about Captain Boojawa! Captain Boojawa couldn’t understand why his ship kept sinking… perhaps the massive Twix bar he fished out of the crosshatch. Maybe it was the lead shell oilcan in his pocketwatch or the green oyster poop in his chicken sandwich. Regardless, he knew he was in for the ride of his life.
Captain Boojawa was a jovial chap with green stockings and a beard that wouldn’t quit. He was a fan of shrubberies, and liked laurels particularly. Captain Boojawa had his first mate, Ol Grumpybutt, raise the boom and get his sail-on. First Mate Grumpybutt grumbled into his sock puppet Chumpy while raising the boom. Chumpy, incidentally, was totally convinced that he deserved to be second mate. Captain Boojawa found the idea of a sock puppet as a second mate preposterous, and had thus made himself second mate. Chumpy didn’t mind. Chumpy was a necrophile.
Griswold was a bastard. Griswold disliked Captain Boojawa a great deal. Griswold was not Captain Griswold. He was not Captain anything. He was just Griswold, but he had a ship. A ship, I tell you! Griswold liked his ship. It was a large ship. A massive ship, I say! Griswold had no first mate, nor a second mate, nor a third. Griswold had only a lowly twelfth mate. Ouch. Griswold stubbed his toe and bitch-slapped his twelfth mate overboard.
‘Twas not long before Griswold caught up to Captain Boojawa and his Ship of All-Out Crap. Griswold used his mad ninja skills to scale the side of Captain Boojawa’s ship. The entire crew had gone for a swim, so Griswold raised anchor and booked it. Soon enough, Griswold was Captain Griswold, and had won enough prestige to sway a horde of ancient Mongol warriors toward his will. Griswold airlifted the horde to Armenia and let them loose on the countryside. For weeks the fierce Mongol army sacked, burned, raped, and pillaged the villages of rural Armenia.
Then one day a village named Smoof issued a call to action to villages everywhere. Preparations were made. Sticks were sharpened. Strategies were formed. Burritos were slathered in zesty sauces. Smoof was renamed Attack Us, Mongol Bastards.
Then it happened. The Mongol hordes had reached Attack Us, Mongol Bastards. Thousands of screaming brutes in crude leather armor poured into the village. But the villagers were ready. They raped the Mongols. They did not defeat the Mongols in armed combat; they raped the Mongols. Men and women took turns raping the Mongols. Children played Hide-And-Go-Rape-The-Mongol. The village elders revisited their youth by raping the Mongols.
Griswold realized that this whole situation was suddenly crappy, and went to bed.
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-ConorMcNassar 17 October 2001 4:15 AM
Boojawa Part 2 (Griswold Gets It):
Ha HA! Captain Boojawah and his spleen sat with Ol Grumpybutt and Chumpy in their fallout shelter / war bunker / gaming room, planning revenge against Griswold. It was then that Poco Crumb the Armenian engineer burst into the room and spilled a giant bag full of beans and cats all over the floor, screaming “BLOOG!” Captain Boojawa winked at himself and mentally noted the leaked information.
Not a day had passed. The taco was nearly stuffed with seasoned beef when Captain Boojawa and Ol’ Grumpybutt approached Griswold’s WeHo? estate [Chumpy was out gallivanting]. Inside, Griswold lay atop a heap of crack gel-tabs, watching Sixteen Candles on DVD.
Upon seeing his reflection in his own eye, Ol’ Grumpybutt combusted, sending chunks of flaming poo in every direction. Your hair caught aflame, as did Griswold’s home. Griswold hit his DVD remote’s eject button and was launched through a skylight, arcing miles into the sky, all the way to the 56th Annual Scottish Throat-Punching Games outside Denver, where he landed in a 300-gallon vat of cottage cheese.
The Scots and poser-Scots did not take kindly to scruffy fellows in their cheese, so they proceeded to drag Griswold from the vat and punch his throat. Scots punched his esophagus while the poser-Scots punched his larynx. The competition’s prize Scotch Hounds bit his trachea, while playful toddler Scots punched him in the testicles, much to the quiet amusement of the older Scots.
Griswold, still quite alive, was dipped in caramel and almonds and shot.
The Scots feasted on breadsticks, breaded cheese sticks, bread, cheese, cheese bread, and okra. A round of Liquid Ass was poured for the competitors. Four donkeys escaped, while seven more wandered onto the grounds. Gary Coleman emceed a brief variety show including such events as “stupid Apple IIe tricks” and Mongol improv.
Your mom got tired of listening to my droning post-coital storytelling and left.
-ConorMcNassar 31 October 2001 6:38 AM
Boojawa Part 3 (Chump and Circumstance):
Chumpy returned from his gallivanting, striding up to Griswold's smouldering and poo-encrusted estate with the eased gait of a hand-puppet on low-end narcotics. Captain Boojawa turned slowly and eased his grelm out of its socket. Yes, his grelm. He was tired.
Chumpy proclaimed in a deep, puppetty voice: "I demand that you make me your first mate and bestow unto me your Moustache of Hummus!" A small wiggle of Captain Boojawa's grelm was enough to let Chumpy know his demands would not be easily met.
Having had a bad O-glue trip the day before, and still bitter about never having been promoted beyond UberSwabbie?, Chumpy found this an excellent time to become saucy. But even before Chumpy could utter a proclamation of sauciness, Boojawa had spotted the rising saucitude and erected a mass of pulleys and levers, the likes of which Stevie Wonder and a select few had never seen.
But the sauce was too much for Chumpy to restrain. He began to erupt in a cataclysm of sauceulence. My lord it was saucy! Sauce flowed forth from every point in his tiny frame. Sauce gushed forth from every gaping crevasse in his being. Chumpy had never meant to become so saucy.
The whole of West Hollywood was soon inundated in saucy goodness. A riptide of saucy tore through the nation: first to Iowa, then to Osaka [yes, Osaka, Alabama, not Osaka, Kentucky], and finally, into the fishbowl of one Miss Carol Poopcelot. Miss Poopcelot was a bit concerned, but wasn't concerned at all. Good thing, too.
At this point Boojawa was able to catch ahold of Miss Poopcelot and steady himself. He abruptly removed his hands from her person and fell through a plate-glass window. He killed a dog, but it was old anyway. Miss Poopcelot buried it and invited Boojawa back inside for some Nacho-Cheezie GuanoBites?, but the Captain refused and threw himself into traffic. He was struck by a child on a tricycle and killed.
He awoke the next day alive, and therefore quite surprised. Sitting in a hospital bed, Boojawa realized that he desperately missed the sea, so he managed to lure his attendant into the closet with some Reese's Pieces and lock him in, then jump through a series of plate-glass windows. Once he had looped back in his hospital room, Captain Boojawa began to formulate an escape plan. It wouldn't be easy, but ohhhh, the sex was going to be great....
-ConorMcNassar March 15, 2002 4:16 AM
What is the future for the Captain Boojawa? Who can say? All that is known for certain is that Conor still has 10 hums left...