In this Discussion
- Aleatory October 2010
- autumnraina November 2010
- basenotify33 August 2007
- beckysioux October 2008
- bubble77llama December 2007
- canoe7grape August 2007
- ChristelAdina November 2010
- daisychains November 2010
- DJRose October 2010
- doctor5cap October 2007
- dollarflame6 October 2008
- dust33rain August 2007
- ear69truck May 2008
- ezorvera October 2008
- fog05tile September 2007
- hail9fat September 2007
- hensocks November 2010
- KristaMichelle January 2011
- llama0engine July 2008
- LolaBert May 2008
- manx9shrine August 2007
- mayonaise March 2008
- mexico39taiwan August 2007
- plane8order January 2008
- Rebekker October 2008
- Red_Cadena February 2015
- rockchick October 2010
- sackrose55 December 2007
- sherib September 2007
- Snack_Cakes October 2010
- squashedbanana November 2010
- Sunnyside January 2010
- sureeyesawake August 2007
- Surfer Rosa October 2008
- target35ghost May 2008
- Tempe Arizona February 2015
- thephantommilk October 2008
- violetchaos364 November 2010
- walk2sock August 2007
Comments
And I agree with Rose:
best part!
"I came home from work to the steady melodic thump of a bass guitar. The sound was coming from the kitchen. Tiny Tim was lounging in a gravy bowl on the counter, playing his guitar and bobbing his head to the beat. Suddenly, he got up and began pacing the kitchen counter as he played his bass. "Men," he said firmly to no one at all, "Now is the time to learn a C-sharp. I don't want to hear any flats!"
"He's in training," a voice startled me. It was Runty Rusty. He sat on top of the refrigerator, amused, legs swinging up and down.
"Gah! You scared me!" I shouted.
Dimuntive Dan and Little Damian crawled up onto a counter near the refrigerator, across from Tiny Tim.
"Don't worry," Diminutive Dan told me.
"He's training his invisible army of ferrets about the mysteries of rock and or roll," Little Damian continued.
As Tiny Tim paced too and fro, he randomly whipped out a gum drop and placed it on the counter. "He rewards his army with gum drops," Little Damian noted as if we were study a rare animal in it's natural habitat.
Then Tiny Tim turned to me, realizing he was being talked about. "I must train them before the Sumo wrestlers get to them. They will be my army!" he shouted.
"Sometimes," I muttered out loud, "I have no idea what the heck goes through the minds of you Teenys...Now would be one of those times."
"Thank you," Little Damian said proudly.
"Eh, I don't think she was complimenting you," Runty Rusty commented.
"Well, I guess that means he likes the guitar we got him for his birthday," Dimuntive Dan said regarding the bass and Tiny Tim's whacky behavior.
"That's right!" Little Damian remembered something with a snap. He climbed down from the counter, went into the pantry, and emerged with a large piece of paper. He handed it to me and said quietly, "This is for you. It's a list...We're throwing a birthday party for Tim. And you're invited."
"Thanks. A list of what?" I asked.
"Just read the paper and don't say it out loud! He's watching." Little Damian stared suspiciously at Tiny Tim.
Tiny Tim happened to look up and eerily stared suspiciously back.
The Teenys wanted to throw Tiny Tim a birthday bash. They had a list of supplies that I was supposed to buy.
"You look confused, like you need help with that list. Why don't we come with you to the store?" Little Damian stated quickly. Diminutive Dan and Runty Rusty were already climbing into my purse.
"No, thanks!" I insisted pulling my purse away. "I can get these things myself."
I fumbled for my keys and was out the door.
When I got to the store, I meticulously went through the very long list of items. Some of the things were on sale. I stopped in the magazine isle. I needed my grocery membership card, and started fumbling through my purse for it. Maybe I had forgotten it. I stuck my hand in my sweater pocket. "Ow!" something inside the pocket exclaimed in a muffled voice. Runty Rusty stuck his head out. "Watch were you stick your fingernails," he reprimanded, rubbing the back of his head.
"What are you doing here?" I muttered firmly.
Little Damian and Diminutive Dan poked their heads out from the pocket on the opposite side of the sweater.
Little Damian raised a finger and like a good teacher informed me, "Well when you wouldn't bring us along, Dan so cleverly remembered that you always bring a sweater with you to the grocery store."
I frowned. Diminutive Dan waved sweetly.
I sighed and grabbed a magazine off the shelf.
"I told you three not to come," I muttered into the magazine.
"Well, why not!" Little Damian insisted. "Can't we help? Why do you always act so embarrassed to have our help."
I couldn't tell if he was insulting me or trying to make me feel guilty. "Where's Tiny Tim?" I asked.
"Oh, don't worry about him," Diminutive Dan said. "He's busy training his army. He won't notice we're gone."
"I wanna read 'Wired Magazine'!" Runty Rusty exclaimed reaching for the shelf. He climbed out of my pocket and onto the shelf. He peeled opened the magazine that to him should have been oversized.
"We really shouldn't waste time reading magazines right now. We have a party to set up," Little Damian reminded us. "Andy can stay here and read while we do the shopping."
"No he can't," I muttered, swinging my hand across the shelf to grab Runty Rusty and stuff him back into my pocket.
"But it's a new issue," Runty Rusty said, reaching as I pushed the cart away. He huffed and settled down.
"Go down the snack isle," Little Damian told me from inside the pocket as I pushed past a fat greasy man in an a-shirt.
"What?" he asked me.
"I wasn't talking to you," I said pushing past him and quickly looking down at the lunch meats.
"I'm gonna go down the snack isle," the fat greasy man called out to his wife.
Little Damian snickered. I gave my sweater pocket a gentle nudge.
"Ow, watch it!"
Diminutive Dan stuck his head out, quietly and considerately he asked me, "How bout some beer, then?"
I went to the liquor isle. "What beer should I get?" I asked quietly.
A store clerk approached me. "Can I help you miss? You sound like you're looking for a good beer."
"Uh, no!" I smiled quickly. "I'm fine."
"Let me show you our selection," he continued.
"No, really, I'm fine."
"Guiness!" Little Damian said quietly but firmly.
"No, Heineken," Diminutive Dan insisted.
"What about Rolling Rock?" Runty Rusty suggested.
The store clerk turned to me. I smiled innocently at him. "Something wrong?" I asked.
"No, I think my walkie talkie is picking up signals from other store clerks. I thought I heard someone."
"Sounds like you're busy. I'll just take these." I put a pack of all three types of beer in the cart. "Thank you for your help," I added, pushing briskly away.
"If you three don't behave yourselves, I'm turning this car around right now and---what am I saying?"
"We are behaving, mom!" Little Damian said jokingly. Then he added, "You're rather paranoid. Go down the cookie isle."
"Diminutive Dan and Runty Rusty are being quiet. Why can't you?" I demanded.
"I'm helping you," he said with a tone of encouragement. "You might not be able to read my handwriting. I scribbled most of it in the dark while Tim was asleep. I didn't want him to catch on I was planning a party---Besides, I sent Dan and Andy out on a mission."
"What does that mean?!" I said a little too loud. Luckily, there was no one around. I heard a rattling sound, something that sounded like glass rolling on the floor and a ruffling sound. I turned around to see a jar of mustard rolling toward me and a bag of hot dog rolls moving toward me. My mouth dropped. I picked up the items. Underneath was a sweaty disheveled Runty Rusty. "Phew! Rolling that jar and pushing that bag at the same time made me tired...and hungry." I bent down so he could climb back into my pocket, "Can we get a sandwich?"
"No," I said firmly. "Now, where's Diminutive Dan?"
From out of nowhere, bags of cookies and snacks in all directions began falling off the shelves and into my cart. After the storm of snacks ended, Diminutive Dan hopped from a shelf into the child seat of the cart. "I think that's everything." Diminutive Dan announced. "Except for the hamburgers and blue cheese."
"I'll get those," Little Damian said.
"Stay put!" I warned him. "I'll get those."
Finally, I pulled into the check out lane and unloaded the groceries. As everything was being rung up, the Teenys quietly made it from my pockets into my purse.
"Will that be cash or credit?" the casheer asked.
"Credit!" Little Damian exclaimed from inside my purse.
The casheer looked at me a bit confused.
I pretended to cough really hard and loud in the hopes the casheer would get distracted. On it's own, a credit card emerged from my purse. I snatched at it, swiped it, signed whatever I had to and left.
When we got home, we found Tiny Tim had made a gum drop igloo and was sleeping outside of it. We quietly set up the birthday streamers, gifts, party favors, and food.
"What took you guys so long?" Tiny Tim asked without warning as we were finishing setting up.
"You knew what we were up to, yoda?" Little Damian demanded.
"No, but I was hoping for a party to go with my new guitar," Tiny Tim smiled, slapping on a birthday hat.
Diminutive Dan began eating a coctail frank. Meanwhile, Runty Rusty raised a normal sized fork, which along side him looked gigantic, and greedily stuck it into piece of cake.
"Oh, I fired my army of ferrets." Tiny Tim announed. "Turns out they were really muskrats in disguise."
"Ah, that's too bad," Little Damian answered.
The Teenys stayed up into all hours of the night partying and drinking in Tiny Tim's honor. I must remember never to go grocery shopping again."
I wish I had a gum drop igloo.
Other than that it was a GREAT story. Especially the bit about training the ferrets before the Sumo Wrestlers could get them. BRILLIANT.
Other than that it was a GREAT story. Especially the bit about training the ferrets before the Sumo Wrestlers could get them. BRILLIANT.
Lol, didn't even think of the political connection, I was just typing shit. I really could go more for a good saki bomb than beer. (BTW, Cindy McCain is the wife of the senator of Arizona, you'd think I'd remember that sorta thing.)
Tim and his ferrets- priceless!
seriously, you're hysterical.
"I woke up with a splitting headache and burning throat, so I decided rather than go to school I'd spend the day in bed. During the course of the morning, I was having trouble resting, so I came into the kitchen to check on everything. I found Tiny Tim sitting on the counter, eating some trail mix, and bobbing his head to a tune coming from his bass. He gave me a nod of acknowledgement then a wave. "You don't look so good," he pointed out.
"I feel awful. I'm gonna go lie down for awhile. I can barely move." Then I saw a letter sitting on the counter and groaned. "Uck, I forgot. This is my tuition bill. It's due this week. I have to get it in the mail...Uhh, I'll do it later. It took all my strength just to get to the kitchen...Tiny Tim, remind me to put this in the mail later."
He saluted me, as I sloshed away back to my room.
A shortwhile later, Little Damian emerged from the pantry. "How's the song coming Tim?"
"Eh..what rhymes with orange?"
"My song isn't coming any further either. Where's Dan and Andy? We should do something. Get our minds off songwriting for a little bit."
"There was something I was supposed to remember to do..." Tiny Tim's voice trailed off, thinking.
Diminutive Dan and Runty Rusty came out of the pantry with a giant bag of nacho chips. Runty Rusty announced proudly, "I found some salsa. Let's make naucho dip!"
Diminutive Dan noticed Little Damian staring intently at Tiny Tim. "What's going on?" Diminutive Dan asked.
"Tim's trying to remember something he was supposed to do," Little Damian said.
"Oh!" Tiny Tim exclaimed, "That letter over there. There's school tuition inside of it. It's gotta get mailed out by the end of the week."
"Ah, her tuition is due?" Little Damian noted, "Well, If she doesn't get it in the mail today it won't make the deadline of the week end."
"I don't think she realized that. She looked pretty ill when she came out here. She's not feeling well at all," Tiny Tim pointed out.
Little Damian sighed, "Well I guess that means we'll have to do it for her."
"How?" Runty Rusty asked.
"Someone's gotta go in her room and get the keys to the front door. Dan you do it," Little Damian said.
Diminutive Dan's eyes widen in alarm, "Me? Why me do it?"
"Because," Little Damian pointed out, "if she catches you, she's least likely to yell at you."
"Says who?" Diminutive Dan demanded.
"Dan," Little Damian continued, "It's a known fact: no one can yell at you."
Diminutive Dan looked to Tiny Tim for support, hoping he'd wanted to take on the mission. Tiny Tim stared at his shoes, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet, whistling as if he didn't know the conversation was going on.
Diminutive Dan turned to Runty Rusty, "Well, don't look at me," Runty Rusty said defensively.
Little Damian saw that they were getting nowhere. "Fine. How 'bout rock, paper, scissors to see who goes?"
They all agreed to this idea. They faced each other, pumped their fists, and all together chanted, "Rock, Paper, Scissor, SHOOT!"
Runty Rusty and Little Damian made scissors, Tiny Tim produced rock, and from Diminutive Dan out came paper.
"Wait a minute, who won--or who lost?" Diminutive Dan asked.
"Isn't it obvious?" Little Damian stated with a tinge of confusion in his own voice.
They all looked at each other confused. Little Damian finally spoke up, "Look Andy and I tied, so we're safe. Dan got paper. Tim got rock. Paper covers rock, so Tim looks like it's you who lost."
"No way," Tiny Tim insisted. "Rock always wins. Rock crushes everything."
"Yeah," Diminutive Dan said, "But Damian's got a point about paper covering rock."
"Scissor cuts paper," Runty Rusty added.
"You're already safe," Diminutive Dan pointed out.
"Oh yeah," Runty Rusty muttered.
"Look, um..." Little Damian thought for a second. "This isn't working. Why don't we draw straws?"
"Alright," they all agreed.
"Shortest straw is the loser, ready?" Little Damian announced.
They each grabbed a straw from Little Damian's clenched fist. They all looked down at their straws and then at each other to see who lost.
Little Damian's jaw dropped. He had drawn the shortest straw.
"Get to it, Damian," Runty Rusty said reassuringly, "Go in there and get the keys to the front door."
"But um, I should really, um...Tim?" Little Damian spluttered.
They dragged him to the hallway and gave him a starting push to walk. Little Damian slowly and cautiously moved to the bedroom door.
"Deadman walking," Tiny Tim pointed out quietly.
"Suicide mission," Diminutive Dan remarked.
Little Damian approached the base of the door and gulped. Maybe it would be closed all the way and he wouldn't be able to get in. No such luck. It wasn't closed all the way, and came open when he pushed on it. He crept into her room, heading for the nightstand. He grabbed onto the telephone cord and used it to climb up onto the table surface. There the keys were, diagonally across from him on the other end of the nightstand. A bottle of NightQuil, a mirror, a jewlery box, and some girlie nicknacks laid around him. He inched forward. Suddenly, she groaned and turned. Little Damian jumped and hid behind the jewlery box. He peered over the jewerly box. She appeared to be asleep, so he continued forward toward the keys. Finally, he reached them. He was about to pick them up and make a run for it...
**********************
I felt really icky. But the NightQuil was finally starting to work, and I actually felt sleepy. I groaned and turned on my side, facing the nightstand.
I could've sworn in that bleary NightQuil haze that Little Damian was in the room on my nightstand.
"It's you," I muttered too weak to raise my voice.
"Yipes." Slowly he turned toward me, "Who me? No, I'm just a figure you're dreaming."
"But you look just like him."
"I'm not."
"Yes you are. You look just like him."
"You're the first one who's said that ever. Ever."
"No, you do. See?" I motioned with my eyes toward the mirror on the nightstand. He looks down at himself in the mirror.
"No, my eyes are lighter and my nose. My nose is totally different. My nostrils are more flared."
"Huh...You don't look like him at all really." My head plopped into the pillow, and I fell asleep. That's all I really remember, and I most likely was imagining him there.
***********************
Little Damian shrugged, grabbed the keys, and slid down the telephone cord. He stared up at the bed. "She looks more like him than I do," he muttered. Then he skeetered out the door to his eagerly awaiting bandmates.
"Hurray!" They cheered. "He survived."
"Very funny."
"Well," Tiny Tim said, "We've got the keys. How do we open the door?"
Little Damian thought for a second. "Shoeboxes!" he blurted out.
"What?" Diminutive Dan was confused.
"We'll empty out some shoes and use them to climb up and undo the lock."
They looked skeptical. "It's okay. I think the Nightquil finally set in. She won't bother us."
They dashed into her room and pushed open her closet.
"She sure does have a lot of shoes," Runty Rusty noted.
Diminutive Dan and Runty Rusty climbed to the highest shoe box, opened the lid, tossed the shoes out, then put the lid back on and pushed the box to the floor. Tiny Tim and Little Damian picked up the shoe box, marched it over to the front door, and placed it neatly at the base of the door. So it went on: Runty Rusty and Diminutive Dan chucking shoes, and pushing over shoe boxes, while Tiny Tim and Little Damian piled them at the front door until they had a pile of six boxes on top of each other.
They stood proudly at their work. "Okay, now. I'll be in charge of the lock. Dan and Tim, you're in charge of the knob. Andy, you open the door."
They got into their positions. Tiny Tim and Diminutive Dan helped lift Little Damian so that he could reach the lock. Once Little Damian got the key in the lock Tiny Tim and Diminutive Dan let go and went for the door knob. Little Damian pushed down on the key. Tiny Tim stood on one side of the knob pushing upwards, while Diminutive Dan stood on the other side of the lock pulling downwards. The knob turned. Runty Rusty pulled the door open. Little Damian jumped down to join Diminutive Dan and Tiny Tim. The three of them climbed down the boxes. Runty Rusty had the letter ready.
"Anyone know what time it is?" Diminutive Dan asked.
Runty Rusty checked his watch. "The mailman is due pretty soon."
The four of them picked up the letter, hidden underneath it they marched to the mailbox.
Runty Rusty climbed up the wooden post and got on top of the metal mailbox. He peeled open the mail box. Little Damian climbed half way up the wooden post. Tiny Tim and Diminutive Dan stood the letter upright and passed it to Little Damian. He wriggled up the post, one arm holding onto the letter until he was able to pass it to Runty Rusty. Runty Rusty placed the letter inside the mailbox, while Little Damian continued to climb up. He got on top of the mailbox, reached for the red flag at the side and pulled it forward.
"Guys!" Tiny Tim shouted with alarm. "The mailman is coming!"
"We gotta get down fast!" Little Damian told Runty Rusty.
"I'm not that fast a climber," Runty Rusty admitted.
"I can't carry you!" Little Damian said hurriedly.
"What do we do?" Runty Rusty asked.
"Jump."
"Huh?"
The mailman approached. Little Damian pushed Runty Rusty off the side of the mailbox. Then he jumped. They both landed in the shrubs below, unscathed, except for Runty Rusty appearing a bit frazzled. After the mailman left, Runty Rusty popped himself out of the shrubs, coat disheveled, face a little muddy, twigs sticky in his bushy hair, looking slightly ready to kill Little Damian. Little Damian crawled out of the shrubs and dusted himself off. "Last thing to do is just put the shoes back in the closet," he announced.
They scurried back inside. Little Damian and Tiny Tim climbed to the top of the shoe box pile, and pushed a box down. Diminutive Dan and Runty Rusty caught it and dashed back to the bedroom. They spent most of the next few minutes sorting shoes with boxes, getting each shoe back in the box, and piling up boxes neatly in the closet. Finally, they slid the closet door closed, and left the bedroom.
Tiny Tim, the last to leave the room, dragged the bedroom door closed.
"Well, Tim, let's say we get back to some song writing?" Little Damian suggested.
"Uuuugggh," Tiny Tim groaned.
"Ah, that nacho dip is just waiting to be made!" Runty Rusty told Diminutive Dan.
"You know, I don't think she'll even appreciate what we did for her when she comes out of that NightQuil coma," Little Damian lamented.
"Sure she will." Runty Rusty said reassuringly.
"We'll just have Dan explain it to her. She won't yell at Dan," Tiny Tim said with a slightly evil little grin.
Diminutive Dan gulped.
The Teenys continued their afternoon and pressed forward to get some songs written and some nachos made."
"Scissor cuts paper," Runty Rusty added.
"You're already safe," Diminutive Dan pointed out.
"Oh yeah," Runty Rusty muttered.
You are the best Tempe!
This is my favorite part:
"Huh...You don't look like him at all really." My head plopped into the pillow, and I fell asleep. That's all I really remember, and I most likely was imagining him there.
I literally laughed out loud.
"Huh...You don't look like him at all really." My head plopped into the pillow, and I fell asleep. That's all I really remember, and I most likely was imagining him there.
Definitely my favorite part too. Hilarious Tempe!
Tee hee, thank you so much! It's a homage to one of my favorite scenes in "A Hard Days Night," written in a delusional spell while I was taking a break from making nifty wrist bands for the Ringo show and watching "A Hard Day's Night" at the same time. How many thoughts did I just put into one sentence? (And I'm typing this while still on my high from going to the Ringo show, so please excuse me.
"Dan," Little Damian continued, "It's a known fact: no one can yell at you."
"Scissor cuts paper," Runty Rusty added.
"You're already safe," Diminutive Dan pointed out.
"Oh yeah," Runty Rusty muttered.
You are the best Tempe!
Tee hee, hensocks, that's my favorite part too
I fucking love you.
eeee! I can't wait! And will it be a Halloween special?
*blushes* Haha, how many members are in the band and what are their names? I've got the story but I just want to make sure I got it right. Don't want to leave a member out or include a non-existant member.
According to my copy of Cantarell, it's just Andy and Travis Harrison, co-founder of Serious Business, awesome drummer and all-around great guy. However, for live shows, or at least the one on September 24th, there were 4 + Andy and Travis. Eytan Oren on keys, Brian Kantor on tambo and miscellaneous percussion, Kevin Fish on the bass, and Josh Kaufman on the gee-tar.
Hoo-ray. Their names practically write their own story.
I have a lot of Teeny stories I'd like to share. But in honor of the contest, for a week, would you like Teensy Travis to just make a guest spot and then leave or would you like all the stories to involve Teensy Secret Dakota Ring? If you'd like to share ideas, please do! I love turning your ideas into tales.
Edit: Maybe I should've kept it quiet and just have you click on the links. But I thought that would've been obnoxious and might put you off from wanting to read an otherwise entertaining story if I did that.
And I don't think anything would stop us from reading your stories Tempe.
Brief review for those of you unfamiliar with Teeny Ok Go…
Owner of Dinky Damian:
“Teeny Ok Go live in the pantry of my kitchen. I came to know them after Dinky Damian followed me home from the grocery store. Dinky Damian lives in a bell jam glass jar on a shelf of the pantry. He constantly bosses me around the kitchen and throws spoons at me when I don't properly follow his cooking guidance. Tiny Tim lives in an oatmeal box next to a candy dish which he calls “his magical candy tree. Diminutive Dan lives in a big hearty soup can, tinking away songs at night on the metal. While Runty Rusty lives in a can of spam at the back of the pantry, where he has wired up all his fancy computer components. The four of them have found ingenious ways to cause trouble and fun for all those willing to read their adventures.”
^^Ooo, BTW, you will highly like the pics I posted. Yey, I figured out how to use the computer! (I promised the above links are not just random links that take you to my SDR contest page.)