Tag Archives: BQB and the Meaning of Life

Help Me Cure Lightning Infused Toaster Pastry Toilet Death – FAQ

Hello.

Earlier this year, this came out of my butt. I survived, but many won't be so lucky until we find a cure for LITPTD.

Earlier this year, this came out of my butt. I survived, but many won’t be so lucky until we find a cure for LITPTD.

I’m mildly famous Internet celebrity, Bookshelf Q. Battler, host of a website that reaches a broad swath of 3.5 readers.

On this blog, I’ve discussed in extensive detail my dream of becoming a published writer.

But I also have a second dream, one that I’m ashamed to say I haven’t talked about enough.

I yearn for a day when the medical community discovers a cure to Lightning Infused Toaster Pastry Toilet Death.

I know.  You have questions.  I’ve taken the liberty of a FAQ.

WHAT IS LIGHTNING INFUSED TOASTER PASTERY TOILET DEATH?

It happens when:

  • You plug way too many electrical devices and/or appliances into an overburdened wall socket.
  • A terrible storm occurs.
  • In the middle of the storm, you get hungry and pop a toaster pastry into a toaster.
  • At the precise moment when your pastry pops out of the toaster, a bolt of lighting strikes your home, enters the socket, flows out through the toaster and jumps into your pastry.
  • The lightning becomes “infused” with the pastry, bonding with the snack’s molecules, causing it to grow ten feet long.
  • You, being a fatty fat fatty, don’t give a shit and eat it anyway.
  • An hour later, you experience terrible stomach pains and an overwhelming urge to run to the bathroom.
  • What comes in must go out and on the way out, the blast is so powerful that it steals your life force.

SO THIS IS A FATAL ILLNESS?

Indeed.  If you ever see a lightning infused toaster pastry, run away!

THEN HOW ARE YOU STILL HERE?

Good question, noble reader.  In the epic tale, BQB and the Meaning of Lifewhich sadly, I have yet to finish as I’m a lazy sack of crap, I detail how I died on the toilet whilst passing a lightning bolt I consumed in the form of a toaster pastry.

Luckily, in death, I met William Shakespeare, the greatest writer of all time.  He gave me a second chance at life, urging me to search for the meaning of our existence.

I should really get around to finishing that story.  I mean, shit, it involves the meaning of life.  That’s probably good for a site click or two.

I don’t know.  You tell me.  If you were to log onto Facebook and see:

  • NEWS STORY #1 – Bookshelf Q. Battler discovers the meaning of life!

OR

  • NEWS STORY #2 – Kim Kardashian’s Butt Elected as Prime Minister of Lichtenstein, which one would you choose?

I know.  I know.  Kim’s butt.  It’s ok.

Toilets should be a welcome place for release, not a crime scene.

Toilets should be a welcome place for release, not a crime scene.

IS THIS DANGEROUS TO OTHERS?

Indeed.  The Institute for Fake Research has identified the following cases:

  • Myra Schlangley of Boise, Idaho, gave into temptation and devoured a lightning infused toaster pastry.  She then went to bed and in the middle of the night, not only met her demise whilst passing the trapped lightning bolt, but also zapped her husband Norman with her butt just as the Emperor zapped Luke Skywalker with his lightning hands.  The Schlangleys were well respected in their community of potato growers and will be missed.
  • Calculus Teacher Barney Snodgrass of French Lick, Indiana, was in his break period, correcting test papers when he succumbed to the wiles of a lightning infused toaster pastry.  An hour later, his afternoon class began and was in the middle of lecturing his students on their poor performance.  Specifically, he said, “If one of you dummies ever bothers to study, I’ll be so surprised that lightning will shoot out of my butt!”  Needless to say, it did, but luckily, all the students were able to steer clear.  Sadly, Mr. Snodgrass did not survive the ordeal, but reports are that his students were so impressed that they redoubled their efforts and are now all considered world class mathematicians.
  • Dr. Hugo Von Science, esteemed Professor of Science at the Advanced Science Institute of Science University, is currently researching a project to harness the power of butt lightning for commercial electricity purposes.  Specifically, a test group of seven chimpanzees with cast iron butt implants have been able to consume lightning infused toaster pastries with reckless abandon.  The lightning harnesses from their butts has been enough to power a small city.  Not a good one mind you, but one of those tiny burgs with a minor league team that pretends like they’re hot shit and what not.  At any rate, unless you have a cast iron butt, this malady will prove fatal.

WHAT SHOULD I DO IF MY LOVED ONE HAS CONSUMED A LIGHTNING INFUSED TOASTER PASTRY?

DO NOT be a hero.  Run.  Your friend or relative is doomed.  Don’t go out in a butt lightning zap.

If you insist on staying, be sure to steer clear of the blast radius.  If you can see the butt in question, you’re standing in the wrong spot.

WHAT PROGRESS HAS BEEN MADE TOWARD A CURE?

Scientists are currently working on the following methods:

  • Hypnosis to train the mind to stay away from lightning infused toaster pastries.
  • A “Post Consumption Pill” to be taken that would absorb the lightning, breaking it down into a series of small sparks that will fly out of the afflicted’s butt, causing minor distress.
  • Dr. Hugo believes that his cast iron monkey butts will be applied toward human butts by the year 2050.

CAN THIS HAPPEN WITH ANY OTHER BREAKFAST FOOD AND/OR WEATHER RELATED DISASTER?

Indeed.  Lightning can enter a delicious toaster pastry.

However, it can also enter a blueberry muffin, a cheese danish, a glazed, sprinkled, or otherwise decorated donut, a pancake, or anything else you might normally stick in your maw between the hours of 6-11 a.m.  (though it can happen at any time of the day.  My incident happened at night.)

Further, lightning is not the only type of weather event that can enter a breakfast food.

For example, my girlfriend, Video Game Rack Fighter, aka Victoria Gloria Somersby Stratenhaus, died on the toilet after consuming a hurricane infused jelly donut.

This occurred after a hurricane entered a microwave she was using to warm her donut, because she likes hot jelly, and no I’m trying to make a bad pun.

Other noted cases discovered by the Fake Institute:

  • Three years ago, John Hotchkiss of Lexington, KY consumed a tornado infused bowl of Grape Nuts Cereal.  Reports indicate he is still spinning around by his butt today.
  • Bob Fendersnuff of Austin, TX devoured a wind infused bear claw one fateful morning.  His corpse was found in Sri Lanka.
  • In one of the worst cases ever seen, Violet Cremmelhorn of Albuquerque, NM, ate a monsoon laden bagel covered with a hail storm infused cream cheese spread.  In the wake of this horrifying incident, authorities declared the building this happened in to be so messy that it had to be condemned, as cleaning was an impossibility.

WHY ARE YOU ONLY FOCUSING ON LIGHTNING INFUSED TOASTER PASTRY TOILET DEATH THEN?

We have to start somewhere.  Let’s cure this affliction one type of breakfast food infused with one type of weather event at a time.

WHAT CAN I DO TO HELP?

Spread the word.  It’s always possible to find another treat, but you can’t find another life.

Be strong.  Put down the weather infused breakfast food and run.

Not everyone is lucky enough to be given the second chance that VGRF and I were given.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Thanks for taking a minute to talk about this very special issue near and dear to my heart and butt.

Together, we can cure Lightning Infused Toilet Pastry Toilet Death

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Bookshelf Q. Battler and the Meaning of Life – Parts 6-13

By now, BQB’s fearless 3.5 readers have devoured BQB and the Meaning of Life Intro and Parts 1-5, and are now chomping at the bit to find out what happens next.

Settle down, 3.5.  Settle down.

Your wait is over:

Part 6 – The Return of Bookshelf Q. Battler – Our humble blog host wakes up in the hospital to discover Aunt Gertie (one of his 3.5 readers) was one of the only 3.5 people who missed him while he was dead due to a tragic bout with a chronic case of Lightning Infused Toaster Pastry Toilet Death.  Dr. Goetleib informs BQB this condition is more common than you’d think.

In fact, a group of well-intentioned celebrities recently recorded a PSA about LITPTD.

Part 7 – The Butt Pillow – The tiny inhabitants of BQB’s magic bookshelf, the shelf that fuels the fire of a blog beloved by 3.5 readers, apologize for the chicanery that got their caretaker injured.

Part 8 – Troublesome Characters – BQB considers transferring ownership of the magic bookshelf to fantasy author Joel L.L. Torrow, known throughout the literary world as the writer who bumps off a dozen characters a day before breakfast.

Fun fact – Joel recently sat down with BQB for a Q and A session about Joel’s epic fantasy series, A Dirge of Murder and Betrayal.

Don’t forget BQB’s review of Torrow’s series.

"I think I found them!"

“I think I found them!”

Part 9 – The Game is Afoot! – Diminutive versions of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson come to BQB’s aid, even though theirhelp is not wanted (a fact BQB expresses vigorously.)

Concerned that BQB has lost his vigor, Holmes vows to solve, “The Case of the Missing Bookshelf Caretaker’s Testicles!”

Part 10 – Sell-Out – Utilizing his legendary powers of deduction, Holmes determines that BQB lost his mojo and quit on his dream of becoming a scribe when his ex-girlfriend Blandie yanked out his heart and used it as a hacky-sack.

BQB's ex-girlfriend, Blandie.  Literally, this was the expression she had on her face throughout the entire course of her whirlwind romance with BQB.

BQB’s ex-girlfriend, Blandie. Literally, this was the expression she had on her face throughout the entire course of her whirlwind romance with BQB.

BQB left writing for the business world, taking a low-level, go nowhere assistant job at ridiculously boring conglomerate known as Beige Corp, the world’s premiere producer of beige products and accessories.

We try not to bust on Beige Corp too hard as they’re one of the Bookshelf Battle Blog’s top sponsors.

“What if I’d spent the time working toward a business career that went nowhere on a writing career I’d of actually loved?”

It’s a question that muddles our resident nerd’s mind all the time.

Part 11 – A Most Annoying Manner – Bookshelf Q. Battledog leads our heroes to a clue as to how to find the meaning of life.

Part 12 – War in Pango Tango – The answer to the BQB’s question lies in the mind of The Great Guru, the wisest nerd in the entire world, who gained his wisdom by reading every book ever written.  Alas, his lair is located at the top of an enormous mountain situated in the middle of an island plagued by civil war.  Ironically, the Pangonians and the Tangonians have been shooting, bombing, and hacking each other to pieces for twenty years due to a feud over which side is more peaceful.

Part 13 – Young Duffer – BQB and the Incorrigible Monroe have a heart to heart.

Copyright (c) 2015 Bookshelf Q. Battler.  All Rights Reserved.

Attorney Donnelly advises: Any resemblance to real individuals or characters in other literary works is intended for parody purposes only and not to take anything away from those fine works.  Also, said alleged resemblances are probably just imaginary and you made them up in your head.

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BQB and the Meaning of Life – Intro and Parts 1-5

Bookshelf Q. Battler.

Bookshelf Q. Battler, a Poindexter of World Renown

Bookshelf Q. Battler, a Poindexter of World Renown

His 3.5 readers know him as a World Renowned Poindexter, Reviewer of Books, Movies and Assorted Cultural Happenings, Champion Yeti Fighter, and Blogger-in-Chief of the Bookshelf Battle Blog.

But few are aware that this gregarious geek has also discovered the answer to life’s most vexing question:

Why do they always forget to put the sauce in your bag when you buy fast food chicken nuggets?

Ooops.  Wrong question.  Here it is:

What is the meaning of life?

True understanding of mankind’s purpose doesn’t come easy.  Behold, here’s how our illustrious hero’s dorktastic adventures began:

Intro – BQB explains why he wrote this story.

Tessa Fireswarm, one of the more unruly characters inhabiting BQB's magic shelf.

Tessa Fireswarm, one of the more unruly characters inhabiting BQB’s magic shelf.

Part 1 – A Toaster Pastry Too Far – As caretaker of a magic bookshelf where small versions literary characters come to life and fight over limited shelf space, BQB’s life isn’t easy.  Most of his free time is spent keeping these pint sized protagonists from burning the Bookshelf Battle Compound down.  Our tale begins when Young Adult Fiction Star Tessa Fireswarm wakes BQB up in the middle night by firing arrows at a copy of Tales of the Lost French Children. Unable to get back to sleep, BQB devours a lightning infused toaster pastry and croaks on the toilet whilst trying to expel it from his nether regions.

(And you thought that story you crumpled up and threw in your trash can was far fetched.)

Part 2 – Twenty-Three Skadoo – Our noble nerd finds himself in an afterlife speakeasy straight out of the 1930’s.  In fact, a waitress who bears a striking resemblance to a beloved female celebrity from his generation who died too soon insists on keeping him soused to the gills so as to keep him from freaking out, as most newcomers to the afterlife tend to do.  A refined British gentleman with balding hair and a codpiece takes a seat.

Part – 3 – A Place Between Heaven and Hell – William Shakespeare explains that he’s BQB’s spirit guide. We learn more aboutthe waitress.

Part 4 – God’s Waiting Room – The man upstairs puts famous dead celebrities on rotating shifts to hang out in an afterlife speakeasy, thus making people sound crazy when they tell their story after they’re allowed to return to the land of the living.

Part 5 – The Return Kiss – Bookshelf Q. Battler has a hard time thinking up anyone who’d miss him if he remained croaked. When he finally thinks of someone, the waitress sends him back with a smooch.

The Waitress Who Bears a Striking Resemblance to a Much Beloved Female Celebrity from Your Generation Who Died Too Soon (Who does she look like to you?)

The Waitress Who Bears a Striking Resemblance to a Much Beloved Female Celebrity from Your Generation Who Died Too Soon (Who does she look like to you?)

Copyright (c) 2015 Bookshelf Q. Battler.  All Rights Reserved.  

Images courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

Attorney Donnelly notes that BQB’s magic bookshelf characters are meant for parody purposes (poking fun at literary characters both classic and modern.)

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BQB and the Meaning of Life – Part 25 – Lloyd Bunson

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Sally’s web search resulted in a video of an old man in a tweed coat standing in his garage next to an ejector seat just like the one Vicky and I were plummeting to our imminent demises in.

Breakout Social Media Celebrity Lloyd Bunson, Host of "Lloyd Bunson's Happy Fun Time Ejector Seat Channel."

Breakout Social Media Celebrity Lloyd Bunson, Host of “Lloyd Bunson’s Happy Fun Time Ejector Seat Channel.”

“Hello,” the old man said. “My name is Lloyd Bunson and welcome to Lloyd Bunson’s Happy Fun Time Ejector Seat Channel.”

“Wow,” Vicky said. “They have a You tube Channel for everything!”

“Over the next ninety minutes, I’m going to show you how to properly care for, maintain, weatherize, clean, and store your ejector seat,” Lloyd said. “Proper maintenance is the only way to ensure that your ejector seat will provide you with many years worth of flinging yourself out of perfectly good airplanes.”

“JUST GET TO THE PART ABOUT THE PARACHUTE OLD MAN!” I screamed.

“I’m sure you all have so many questions…”

“I can’t believe this has ten million hits,” Vicky said.

A flock of birds buzzed over our heads.

“And the big one I get all the time is, ‘Lloyd, how the heck do I deploy the parachute on my ejector seat?’”

“YES!” I shouted. “TELL US HOW LLOYD!”

“Simple,” Lloyd said. “First, reach your hand approximately one foot underneath the center of the seat like so…”

I copied what Lloyd was doing.

Vicky closed her eyes and began mumbling a prayer.

“…once you’re under there, you’ll want to feel around for a string.”

“Got it, Lloyd!” I said. “Now what? For Christ’s Sake, hurry up, man!”

“Go ahead and give that string a good old yank…”

I yanked the string. Nothing happened.

“Are you screwing with me, Lloyd?!!!”

“After you’ve yanked the string,” Lloyd explained. “Look to your left and you’ll find that by pulling the string, you’ve opened up a compartment containing a green button and a red button….”

“Push the green button,” I said, moving my finger over it.

“Whatever you do, DO NOT push the green button,” Lloyd said. “Push the red button.”

“Seriously?” I asked.

“Seriously,” Lloyd said. “Fun story, the engineer who designed these contraptions was totally color blind.  So go ahead and hit that red button.”

I hit the red button. Nothing.

“You suck Lloyd!”

“Now you’ll find that on the right side of the seat, a blue lever has popped out,” Lloyd said.

Vicky looked at the side of her end of the seat.

“A blue lever!”

“Be sure to yank the lever up,” Lloyd said. “Because if you push it down, your seat will break apart and you will all surely die.”

“Why would they even build a feature like that into an ejector seat?” I asked.

“That’s what you get for buying a World War II surplus ejector seat that was built by Nazis,” Lloyd said.

Vicky yanked the lever up. A bright red parachute exploded out of the back of the seat. We immediately slowed down and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Damn Nazis!” I said.

“Now then,” Lloyd said. “Let’s talk about how to properly wax your ejector seat…”

Half of you looked up to see if there actually is a “Lloyd Bunson Happy Fun Time Ejector Seat Channel” didn’t you?  Admit it.

BQB and the Meaning of Life is ejecting for now, but the story will continue after an all new episode of Pop Culture Mysteries!

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BQB and the Meaning of Life – Part 24 – Sally

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“ARRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHH!”

Vicky and I screamed and screamed as we sat in Happly’s ejector seat, watching the island below grow closer and closer.

“SEE WHAT I MEAN ABOUT TRUSTING PEOPLE?!!” I yelled.

I hate it when I ask my phone about parachutes and it returns a search on panda food.

I hate it when I ask my phone about parachutes and it returns a search on panda food.

Vicky fumbled her hands all over the seat in a desperate search for something, anything that could be used to save the day.

“HOW DO WE GET THE PARACHUTE TO OPEN?!” Vicky asked.

“I DON’T KNOW!”

“WELL,” Vicky yelled back at me. “STOP COMPLAINING AND DO SOMETHING ALREADY!”

I whipped out my generic off brand cell phone. This was a job for Sally, my automated personal assistant.

“Sally!”  I shouted.

My phone beeped.

“Hello Eduardo,” Sally replied in her pleasant monotone robot voice.

“How do you open up the parachute on an ejector seat?” I asked.

“I’m afraid I do not understand Eduardo…”

“EJECTOR SEAT!” I shouted. “HOW DO YOU OPEN THE PARACHUTE?!”

“I have found three restaurants that serve bamboo chutes,” Sally said. “Do you want their addresses?”

“NO!” I yelled. “TELL ME HOW TO OPEN THE PARACHUTE ON AN EJECTOR SEAT!”

Vicky kept searching.

“Eduardo,” Sally said. “I do not understand, ‘Tell me how to open the parachute on an ejector seat!’ Would you like me to perform a web search on it?”

“YES!!!!!”

“I do not understand when the next installment of BQB and the Meaning of Life will be?  Would you like me to perform a web search of tomorrow?

Copyright (c) Bookshelf Q. Battler.  All Rights Reserved.

Cell phone image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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BQB and the Meaning of Life – Part 22 – Welcoming Party

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I felt like I was going to vomit. Vicky already had.

Happly’s rickety propeller plane jostled us all over the place. It was such a rusty bucket of bolts that it looked like it was going to fall apart at any minute.

“How y’all doin’ back there?” Happly shouted back to us over the loud, struggling engine.  It sounded like it hadn’t been tuned up in years, if at all.

Thank you for flying with Kip Happly Enterprises.  The lap of luxury package costs a hundred bucks extra.  Actual package may or may not be included.

Thank you for flying with Kip Happly Enterprises. The lap of luxury package costs a hundred bucks extra. Actual package may or may not be included.

I looked around. We were surrounded by crates filled with live chickens, guns, grenades, and a white powdery substance that was either sugar or nose candy.

“I thought you said we’d be flying in the lap of luxury!” I yelled.

An asian woman popped her head out of the copilot’s seat and looked at us.

“Meet my wife, Luxury!” Happly yelled. “Met her in a Bangkok Boom Boom Room! A real sweet gal! Not entirely sure if she was born a man or a woman but when you’re in love, you’re in love.”

“Um,” I said. “OK then.”

“Aww,” Vicky said, clutching her right hand over her heart. “That’s so sweet!”

“Did y’all want to sit on her lap?” Happly asked. “I forgot to mention, that’s an extra hundred bucks!”

“We’re good!” I yelled.

An explosion bursted about ten feet over the cockpit windshield. I felt my butt pucker to the point where it almost sucked me inside of it.

“Holy smokes!” Happly yelled. “That’s our welcoming party! Them Pango-Tango boys do not like uninvited guests!”

“Can you radio them or something?!” I shouted. “Tell them we’re friendly!”

Happly slapped his knee and laughed. Luxury joined in.

“Son, they don’t give a flyin’ elephant patoot if you’re friendly or not!” Happly said.

“They’re not going to try to blow us up when we land are we?” I asked.

Happly turned around and lifted his goggles to reveal one tiny beady eye and one milky glass eye.

“Son!” the pilot yelled. “Who in tarnation ever said anything about landing?!”

No landing?  Say what?  Oh no he did-ent.  BQB and the Meaning of Life returns tomorrow.  Same BQB time.  Same BQB channel.  Tell your friends.  If you have no friends, make some and tell them.

Copyright (C) 2015 Bookshelf Q. Battler.  All Rights Reserved.

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BQB and the Meaning of Life – Part 21 – Too Trusting

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“She’s not my…uhh….”

“Yes!” Vicky said. “Can you take us there?”

Kip Happly, US Air Force. Retired?  Dishonorably discharged?  You say tomato, I say to-mah-to...

Kip Happly, US Air Force. Retired? Dishonorably discharged? You say tomato, I say to-mah-to…

“I sure can, Ma’am,” the man said as he grabbed Vicky’s hand and smooched it. “Kip Happly’s the name.  Flying dangerous missions is my game. Why, in my day, I dropped more bombs on the world than network television!”

“You were in the air force?” Vicky asked.

“Yes indeed,” Happly said. “United States Air Force.  Ten years before, well, there was an incident involving a Stealth Bomber being flown in an unstealthy manner but hell, we don’t need to get into that.”

“You’ve got a plane?”  Vicky asked.

“Of course,”  Happly replied.  “A fine craft.  You’ll be sitting pretty in the lap of luxury! For three hundred US dollars I’ll get you where you’re going.”

“That’s a great deal!” Vicky said.

It occurred to me that Vicky was serious and I started to worry.

“Whaddya say, pal?” Happly said as he lightly punched my shoulder.

“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t have that much cash on me.”

“Fear not, traveler!” Happly said. “Kip Happly Enterprises, a Limited Liability Company, fully registered in Sri Lanka for tax purposes, takes all major credit cards.”

“Thank God!” Vicky said.

I shook my head. I took a moment to think about it. Doubting a better way would present itself, I forked over my plastic.

“I’ll run this and be back in a jiff!” Happly said as he walked away.

“Vicky,” I said. “I don’t want to be rude but…”

“What?”

“You’re a little too trusting…”

“I am?”

“You are,” I said. “You don’t know me and you told me your whole life story. You don’t know this weird pilot guy and you’re signing us up to get on his plane…”

“We’re trying to get to a country with a travel ban on it due to a raging civil war!” Vicky said. “A wacko is our only hope for getting there!”

It was the first disagreement we had in our brand new friendship.

Was Vicky right for trusting Kip Happly of Kip Happly Enterprises, a Limited Liability Company Registered in Sri Lanka?

Find out next time on Bookshelf Q. Battler and the Meaning of Life!

Copyright (C) Bookshelf Q. Battler 2015.  All Rights Reserved.

Pilot image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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BQB and the Meaning of Life – Part 20 – Welcome to the Third World

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“Welcome to the Third World International Airport,”  the announcer said.  “We’d tell you what country you are in, but we don’t want to offend the 3.5 people reading this story.”

Inside the airport, Vicky and I walked through the hustle and bustle.

A boy ran up to me with a bundle of roses and yanked on my shirt tail.

“Mr. American sir!” the boy said. “Buy some flowers for your pretty wife!”

I looked at Vicky. She giggled. I grinned.

“She’s not my uh…OK kid. How much?”

“Five hundred US Dollars,” the boy said.

“Get outta’ here!”

“OK,” the boy said. “You drive a hard bargain. Five US dollars!”

“One US dollar!” I said.

“What?” the boy asked. “Your wife isn’t worth five dollars?”

A notorious skinfelt, Bookshelf Q. Battler (BQB) was so smitten with Video Game Rack Fighter (VGRF) that he shelled out five, count em, five big ones for some posies.   He really did.  Moths flew out of his wallet and everything.

A notorious skinflint, Bookshelf Q. Battler (BQB) was so smitten with Video Game Rack Fighter (VGRF) that he shelled out five, count em, five big ones for some posies. He really did. Moths flew out of his wallet and everything.

Damn it. Trapped by a little street vendor’s logic. I pulled a fiver out of my wallet and handed it to him. He gave the rose to Vicky.

“Why thank you, Ed,” Vicky said. “I’m flattered.”

We found a table and sat down.

“So,” Vicky said. “I told you I’m going to visit the Great Guru so I can ask him about the meaning of life. You never told me why you’re going to Pango-Tango.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, funny you mention it, I’m also trying to visit the Great Guru.”

Vicky’s beautiful eyes blossomed.

“You are?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you want to know the meaning of life too?” she asked.

I didn’t want to lie. But I didn’t want another Blandie on my hands either.

“My company,” I said. “Beige Corp. They sent me to uh…make a sales call. Yeah. That’s it. The Great Guru wants to by some beige products and accessories for his sanctuary.”

“Wow,” Vicky said. “Beige?”

“Yeah.”

“The Guru must have really boring taste.”

“Yeah.”

Vicky scratched her head.

“You know,” she said. “This might sound dumb, but I have no idea what to do now.”

“Me neither,” I said. “I just bought a ticket to “Somewhere in the Third World” because that’s the closest the airlines will take you to Pango-Tango.”

“Me too!” Vicky said. “Oh good! At least we’re both flying by the seat of our pants!”

“I was hoping there’d be a boat or a connecting flight or something once I

Seems trustworthy,

Seems trustworthy,

got here,” I said.

I felt a tapping on my shoulder. I turned around to find a goofy looking man wearing a brown leather bomber jacket. His eyes were covered by a pair of goggles.

“Did I hear you and your wife say you want to get to Pango-Tango?”

Will BQB and VGRF ever make it to Pango Tango?  And do they really want to trust this wacko?  More BQB and the meaning of life to come!

Copyright (C) Bookshelf Q. Battler 2015.  All Rights Reserved.

Nerds with flowers and wacky pilot images courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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Bookshelf Q. Battler and the Meaning of Life – Part 19 – Is VGRF for Real?

PREVIOUSLY ON BOOKSHELF Q. BATTLER AND THE MEANING OF LIFE…

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AND NOW BOOKSHELF Q. BATTLER AND THE MEANING OF LIFE CONTINUES…

“She’s insane,” I said to the world’s greatest detective as he stepped out of my carry on bag and onto my tray table.

“Poppycock!” Holmes said. “She is a Video Game Rack Fighter! You are a Bookshelf Battler! You two were meant to be!”

Holmes suspects Vicky's on the level, that she is, in fact, a Video Game Rack Fighter...

Holmes suspects Vicky’s on the level, that she is, in fact, a Video Game Rack Fighter…

“I KNOW I am a Bookshelf Battler, but I only have her word that she’s a Video Game Rack Fighter,” I replied. “Carrying around beloved video game characters Carmine and Giuseppe in her purse? Please.”

“Might I remind you that you are carrying two of the fiction world’s foremost investigators in your carry on bag?” Holmes asked.

Watson popped out of my bag and started in on me.

“Mr. Bookshelf,” Watson said. “Your magical bookshelf is truly an awe inspiring mystery. But it never once occurred to you that there may be other enchanted media storage spaces out there?”

“Never crossed my mind,” I said.

“There’s only one way to solve this,” Holmes said as he leaped across the divide between my table and Vicky’s, then climbed into her open purse.

I looked over at Vicky. She was fast asleep. Her mouth was wide open, a little drop of drool pouring out the side. She was a light snorer. It was adorable. I had it bad.

“What are you doing?!” I asked.

“I shall simply locate the Sterotypical Italian Contractors and if they are real then Ms. Stratenhaus is telling the truth!”

“You can’t just go through her purse!” I said.

“Don’t worry!” Holmes said. “I am a detective!”

Holmes rumbled around inside the bag, then huffed and puffed as he struggled to pull out a very small, stiff and silent Carmine, only to drop him on the table in a haphazard manner.

“Careful Holmes!” Watson said. “You’ll give him a concussion!”

“You there!” Holmes said as he poked the tiny Carmine in the shoulder. “Borderline racist stereotype of an Italian contractor! Wake up, sir! You are among friends and no harm shall come of you!”

Carmine just laid there silently with a blank look on his face and a big smile.  He wore his trademark overalls and ball cap.  His face was mostly obscured by a big bushy beard.

“Are you deaf, man?” Holmes asked. “Wake up, I say!”

Watson jumped over to Vicky’s table, produced a tiny rubber mallet from his pocket, and lightly tapped Carmine’s knee with it. The most beloved video game character of all time refused to budge.

“Curious,” Watson said. “Either he’s quite adept at playing dead or he has terrible reflexes.”

“Put him back before she wakes up!” I said.

Holmes and Watson heaved Carmine back into Vicky’s bag, then returned to my tray table.

...BQB, on the other hand, opines that Vicky is one cart short of a full deck.  If he's the only one with a magic media storage space, then Vicky must just be some kook who thinks her action figures are real...

…BQB, on the other hand, opines that Vicky is one card short of a full deck. If he’s the only one with a magic media storage space, then Vicky must just be some kook who thinks her action figures are real…

“See?” I asked. “She talks to toys. She’s nuts.”

“Inconclusive!” Holmes said.

“How is that inconclusive?” I asked. “You whipped out Carmine and he didn’t move at all.  He’s clearly just a toy.”

“We’ve all been examined by your Aunt hundreds of times,” Holmes said. “We remain perfectly still. You are the only human we’ve ever revealed our true natures to, and I’d imagine that Ms. Stratenhaus’ video game friends feel the same way towards her.”

“This is going to be a long flight,” I said.

“Precisely the reason why we should be watching Pootie Tang!

 Will BQB ever learn the meaning of life?  Is Vicky really a video game rack fighter or is she nutsy cuckoo?  

And will Holmes ever get to watch Pootie Tang?

Find out as BQB and the Meaning of Life continues…

Copyright (C) Bookshelf Q. Battler and the Meaning of Life 2015.  All Rights Reserved.

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The Week Ahead

Happy Monday, 3.5 Readers.1371251154-2

I hope everyone is enjoying Pop Culture Mysteries.  I have to say I’m glad this idea popped into my head.

I’ve heard Jake says these stories are a joy to write and at the risk of offending Alien Jones, it’s the best writing to appear on this blog since it began over a year ago.

Part 4 of “Who Shot First?” will appear tomorrow.  Hatcher will once again enlist the help of Agnes the Librarian, an elderly woman who ironically knows her way around a computer (aka a beep boop machine) better than Hatcher.

But what can you expect?  He’s a 1950’s kind of guy, after all.

I’ll need some time to write the ending of the story, so the rest of “Who Shot First?” will come back later.  I’ll try my best to not leave you hanging for more than a week, but alas, my schedule is kind of hectic so who knows.

In the meantime, Bookshelf Q. Battler and the Meaning of Life returns soon.  I, Bookshelf Q. Battler and my new love interest, Video Game Rack Fighter, will continue on our quest for the answer to life’s most vexing question.

3.5 Readers, I wish there were more of you, but I take what I can get and knowing that at least someone is enjoying this motivates me to keep going.

We’ve talked about the week ahead, so what about the future ahead?

The best part of this one post a day for a year challenge is that it’s forced me to produce.  Without some kind of deadline, I’m likely to just fall into the trap of putting my writing off forever.

The worst part is there are times when I realize if I blogged less and worked on a novel more, that novel could eventually find its way on amazon.

But without an effort to expand my fan base beyond 3.5 readers, who’d read it?

It’s all about investment.  I’m putting in the time to become a better writer.

At the same time, I realize when you take time out of your busy lives, you’re doing so with the belief that I’m going to entertain you.

Rest assured, I’m doing my best not to let you down.

The “3.5” thing is a fun joke.  In reality, around 30-50 or so of you have been checking the blog daily, assumedly to find out what’s going on with me, or Jake, or AJ.  Hell, some of you even care about the Yeti or Dr. Hugo Von Science.

I appreciate it.  This blog is written during the few moments I get to steal away from everything else that’s demanding my attention, and as long as you keep reading, I’ll keep reminding myself its worth it to keep writing and to not just waste my time with the netflix bingeathons my mind so desperately craves.

I hate the marketing side and I hate to be “that guy” who asks his 3.5 readers for favors, but with that being said, if you have a favorite Bookshelf Battle Blog post, please consider sharing it somewhere on the Internet (or has Hatcher calls it, “the Interwhatever.”)

Twitter, Facebook, a Reblog, whatever you can do to bring more eyes this way would be appreciated.

Alien Jones, who believes his assignment to help me launch my writing career is beneath him, would certainly be thrilled if you can help me get this off the ground so he can focus on more important matters, like saving the universe from the dreaded Moloklaxons.

Remember when this used to be a book blog?  Ahh, memories…

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