Saturday, November 20, 2010

Fang-Toothed Toothless Bandits

It turns out that the museum was in fact raided by fang-toothed toothless bandits! I figured this crucial clue out only moments after someone told me. Once I had established the important facts, I quickly made for a wall panel that was slightly discolored. As it turns out, I had built this panel myself a few years back in case I ever had to escape quickly from the museum. I really did have to escape the museum, as I was about to find out. But I just went to the panel to avoid the awkward moments where everyone looks at you, as if willing you to find a clue in midair.

Anyway, I quickly pressed the panel in the secret 4,098 spots (I did, however need the help of the handy manual. You see, since I knew that in the pressure of such a situation, I might need a manual to help me. So I put a handy little booklet with all the location on a string next to it. I know, very helpful). Launching myself through the hatch that opened, I found myself in a cylindrical chimney. Then I realized I was falling.

Moments later I remembered that this particular panel led to the museum's chimney system. If my memory was correct (usually not the case, but in this situation I decided to have faith in it), there should be a set of jetpacks at the bottom, complete with a lever. I pulled the lever on my way down, and the jetpack immediatly flew upward to meet me. I was glad too, since four feet further would have spelled my doom in the form of a large broiler. Anyway, I jetted up through the chimney.

As I went, I noticed something peculiar. I couldn't quite place it, but somehow something seemed a little... wrong. Then it clicked. Right in front of me was a flashing neon sign suspended by dancing winged monkeys with the words "Look down" upon it. I immediately looked up, in case the enemy was attempting to catch me off guard. When I had sufficiently scanned the air above me for any hiding intruders, I did indeed look down. And fainted.

What I saw was the stuff of movies. In slow motion, with cinematic 3D (I noticed 3D glasses had somehow appeared over my eyes), the entire museum exploded. Then again. And again. It was so marvelous I was totally distracted by the great FX (not to mention the fact I was in the process of fainting) that I didn't even register that the museum was doing this process over and over again.

Then I realized that I had been watching a puddle for shrimp the entire day. And I only found one pebble named Frederick Van Brodensckeim Herald Percival "Pooky" HaidoSunwaKalotai.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Mischief in the Museum

Today, a very terrible crime was committed in the Encyclophobaticsburg National Museum. As you know, the Museum holds some very important things, not only from the past of Encyclophobaticsburg, but also a few random objects that were found on the streets. One such item is the 'Umbrella of Peace, Justice, and Dryness". Anyway, this umbrella was picked up in a dirty subway somewhere, but it undoubtedly represents Encyclophobaticsburg because it has the words "Kill the Spare" Printed across it in large letters.

So about the crime. Somebody stole this fabulous piece of culture, and it is no longer there. I am still getting the details, but as soon as I find out more I will tell you guys. Right now I m being called to take a closer look, so until next time:

Agent Pizza, Under and In.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Eating Granola Makes Time Slow Down.

Did you know? It's true! Scientifically proven! By whom, you may ask? Well by me, of course!
I, Agent Pizza, have recently discovered the astonishing fact that Granola does in fact slow time. While eating some this morning, I was delighted to find that for a moment (well for me, but probably longer for everyone else because time had slowed down) every movement out the window seemed to simply... slow. A pack of heavily laden merchants walking by in the salty ocean air started to take exaggerated slow steps, and a rare green-jeweled pelican swooping low over the water suddenly caught a fish with fluid, yet very slow, flashing of its brilliant beak.

Then time caught up with me, and as I had been leaning out of my chair, suddenly it registered my weight and I crashed to the floor as a multitude of sounds came back and I realized what had happened. Thinking quickly, I analyzed the situation from the ground, and after several seconds of furious thinking I discovered that the most likely cause of this phenomenon was the granola. So I took another bite, of course.

I found the same result. Noise seemed to become somewhat muted as the soundwaves slowed, and everything seemed to be slowing down from my perspective. However, my motions were slow too, and only my thinking seemed to be going at a speed different from everything else's. I could only attribute this to the fact that the illusion of time slowing down must stem from my perspective, not the real physical actions around me.

So naturally, I grabbed several handfuls of the stuff and shoved them into my mouth, causing time to slow down even further. Realizing I should have been very cold because the atoms wouldn't vibrate with their normal speed, I quickly deduced that my nerves weren't responding fast enough to notice. Another effect I experienced was a slight feeling that I wasn't in my head. I seemed to be leaving my body and senses in a way, since my perspective and thoughts could catch up far faster than all of my sensory organs. The combined symptoms of this slowed time were extreme, and I was almost glad when I returned soundly back to Earth, as time caught up around me. Let me tell you, it is not a great experience to be caught in between when the time stream is trying to make up for lost time. Events whirled by me and I felt like the middle of one of those commercials where all the people are zipping around by you. But instead of people, it was the little things, like dust motes in the room or clouds moving in front of the sun, that really overloaded my brain. Luckily it was all over, and after a few waves of nausea and a quick splash of cold water, I was back to myself.

Then I bought all the granola I could get in Encyclophobaticsburg and went into my laboratory to study it. After finding that it was, in fact, regular granola, I gave up on the finding-out-how-it-works approach and began using a combination of thermo-nuclear black hole propulsion electron beams and silly putty to condense the granola into one tiny pill. The size of only four pieces of granola, I figured this thing would contain as much effect as four packages.

Then I ate it.

And nothing happened.

Moral: Don't play with Silly Putty, you could end up eating it and choking.
Moral 2: Try to catch a Green-Jeweled Pelican, they sell for lots of money. About $5.98 on the current market.

Monday, November 8, 2010