Friday, July 29, 2016

Hubba Hubba Versus the Stinky Beefy Boy, Part 2

Quilt Stone Mountain NC SP 4021
5469802698_278de1b2e3_zthe-brixton-ona-bags-2-560x379The stinky beefy boy slowed to a walk with a skip and happily patted his game bag full of Hubba Hubba. Whistling a giddy tune fit for the tone deaf, he left the path through a gap in the hedge to cut across a freshly ploughed field. Chirp and Squeak followed 'round the outside in the tops of trees grown up in the hedge. The boy scampered through new oats, a meadow and a fresh cow pile, pausing to rinse his feet in a gurgling creek before dashing triumphantly across an orchard to a fiery haired woman and two boys, hoeing in a broad vegetable garden.
504_slingrocks"Mom!" hollered the stinky boy as she bent to pull a weed. "Get wood on the fire! I bagged fresh meat for supper!"
She stood up, brushing the dirt from her skirts and hands.
"Look Mom! I got him with my sling! I knocked 'im clean out of the air! I'm gettin' good, aye?"
"I'll say Frankin," she said, peering into his bag. "I've been watching you get better day by day. This is game to remember, all right, particularly when you may go the rest of your life and not get another on the wing like that."
"So all you think is I just got lucky, isn't hit?"
nVrhp1e"Well Frankin, someone without your sharp eye would certainly have an empty bag right now..."
"Ha!" he crowed with a leap. "I'm really somethin' with my sling, and you know it."
"I've just hung the tea-kettle over the fire," she said, ruffling up his hair. "You could wash up for a nice cup o' tea before you dress your bird, if you don't dally."
Frankin raced to the back door, hung Hubba Hubba on the latch and wheeled 'round to go to the well in time to find his little brothers following. "Hey Poopkink!" he snarled. "If you and Poopdink have to sneak along behind me, don't you dare touch the game bag."
***
tver_angry-crow_7219"Help!" cawed Hubba Hubba, coming to in total blackness. "I'm dead again! I can't see!" He hysterically thrashed and flogged his wings against the insides of the cramped box they had him in, pausing to go light in the head, gasping for want of air.
Someone heard his cries and threw open the box. "Kawk!" he cried as four chubby hands crowded in after him. "Have some respect! Can't you idiots tell I'm wounded here?"
Bartolomé_Esteban_Perez_Murillo_004Both boys squealed and yanked back, dropping the lid on Hubba Hubba.
"Hey! I object! This is abuse! Here I am, smashed in the head..."
"Hit does talk!" they cried in wide-eyed chorus.
"You got it!" shouted Hubba Hubba. "And do you ones listen? Here I am smashed in the head, some drooling gnoff strangles me 'till I black out, maybe die, and here you ones whack me in the head again... Is this the stinkin' Pit, or what? Well?"
Suddenly they lunged at the box. Hubba Hubba exploded into frantic flight about the room, landing on a quilting frame drawn up by twine to the overhead beams. "All right," he rattled. "At least I can see this is some rotten old kitchen, somewhere, and not the Pit. And whatever you two are, I am not some kind of 'it!' I'm one right proud crow and I'm traveling with a young man who ought to here directly to cut off your stinkin' heads for doing this to me...!"
primitive-vintage-wood-box-original-old-paper-fruit-crate-label-Placerville-Maid-Laurel-Leaf-Farm-item-no-b912117-7"Hey you little gwrteithiau!" yelled Frankin as he threw open the door. "What'd I tell you about my game bag? And why weren't you out helping us drive in the six sheep which just now got out in the garden? Which one of you left the gate open anyway...?"
"It's loose!" cried Kink.
"Close the door!" cried Dink.
"I am not an 'it,'" rattled Hubba Hubba.
images (1)"Taran!" shouted Frankin as he slammed the door and began glancing about. "So you not only let the sheep out, you got into my bag and turned the crow loose! If he gets clean away, you'll not only be cachu, I'll find something really disgusting and make you each eat its cachu!"
"He's right over your head," said Dink.
Frankin wheeled 'round and looked up. "Mom!" he bellowed, "Come in here and see what they did now!" He lunged and missed Hubba Hubba, whacking the quilting frame madly about on the ends of its short twines.
3021358_1_l (1)"Kawk!" cried Hubba Hubba, as he crouched to hang on
Frankin leaped again, snapping a twine and knocking down the frame to smash a 17-cottage-cheesehuge crock of soupy cottage cheese onto the floor.
"You bloated idiot!" cawed Hubba Hubba, springing into flight about the room. He spied a board nailed across the timbers and landed on that with his back to the ceiling. "You stinking armpit maggot..."
"So you're some kind of magic crow, aye?" he said, taking out his sling. "Well it doesn't matter, bird-o. You'll never get out of this room, 'cause when I knock you down, I'm goin' 'o jerk your ugly head out o' your shoulders!"
"No!" cried Kink and Dink together.
"Frankin!" cried their mom as she stepped in the door to go apoplectically wide eyed. "My stars! That's fifteen gallons of cottage cheese, all over!"
"They did it!" wailed Frankin. "They got into my bag when I told them not to and turned loose the crow. I've got to kill it quick..."
"No!" cried Dink. "Hit's magic...!"
images"Hit talks!" cried Kink.
"And they've gotten windy as kites in the process, too, I see. Well you two, what have I told you about making up things...?"
"But it's true!" wailed Kink. "Frankin knows it, too!"
"I think you two need to take this stack of bowls and scoop up as much clean cheese as you can get off the floor for your next several meals. Then, you need to mop up every bit of what's left."
"But we aren't making it up!" wailed Dink, as his mom thrust a stack of bowls into his arms and steered him toward the slumping mound of cheese and crock chards.
"Now, freak bird, hit's your turn," said Frankin, fitting a stone into his sling.
"Kawk!" cried Hubba Hubba. "Lady, lady! Please listen to your little fellows!"
"That's not the least bit amusing, Frankin," she said, wheeling 'round to glare at him.
"But I didn't..."
"No, no, no, no!" cawed Hubba Hubba. "I did! I'm not some game animal to be beaned and chucked in the kettle. Hey! I've got brains here."
"Mercy!" she gasped. "You do talk!"
crow"Hit's a trick, Mom, said Frankin.
"Right. So where's the minstrel puppeteer?"
"Come on, Mom! Somebody taught him to talk..."
"Absolutely!" rattled Hubba Hubba. "Just like they did you, only I didn't need to be taught how to think, and you've yet to manage."
"Don't touch the bird," she said, snatching away his sling. "Do not harm him, understand?"
"But he'll get away!"
"We're going to be real good to him 'till we figure him out," she said. "Now go fetch me a good sized box to put him in, and make sure there are a right smart amount of air holes in it."
"Air holes?" cried Hubba Hubba. "What kind of 'real good' to me is that? No wonder you haven't taught maggot boy here how to think, yet! And I don't care what he brings back, you're going to have to come up here and get me!"






Carol Marrs Phipps & Tom Phipps




Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Hubba Hubba Versus the Stinky Beefy Boy

504_slingrocks

The_Burgeoning_Cover_for_KindleHubba Hubba, Chirp, Tweet and Squeak were returning from a reconnaissance mission for Herio in The Burgeoning when...
"There are a slew of farmsteads, though," squeaked Chirp as he bounced along in a madAerial Ballet flutter to keep up. "One of them might put us up..."
"That's ground work," chirped Tweet. "We can't ask around from the air."
"Let's just go back now," said Hubba Hubba. "If that's all that's left, we're wasting time. I hate to think of another night of Herio's scorched beans, or nothing at all like last night."
"Couldn't be that bad," tweeted Squeak. "Those folks down there look pretty hard up. A little money would surely get us what we want..."
"Yea?" said Hubba Hubba. "And it could be right risky if they thought Herio was well-to-do. A young fellow by himself?" He clacked shut his beak with a shake of his head. "Someone might try to rob him...or worse!"
"Worse, master?" squeaked Chirp.
"Hey, I remember arrows and meat cleavers and ugly manners of all sorts out of people on the ground who weren't even penniless and desperate. And don't you dare call me master! Aren't we chums these days?"
"Oh I forgot, you being a crow and all..."
"Crow! Well, I can't hide from that, but reminders of the Ugleeuh days give me a headache..." And with that, he collapsed into a headlong fall.
Crows fighting playing_14
"Hubba Hubba!" squeaked Chirp, diving madly after him. "What's wrong? Tweet! Squeak! Help!"
***
crows_japanHubba Hubba opened his eyes to find the ground shooting up to meet him. He began flapping furiously. "Help! Help! Help!" he cawed. "It's too late! Pebbles, I'm sorry!"
Without warning, something strange was under each of his wings. Suddenly he was seeing stars, bouncing and rolling to a rumpled stop in tall new grass.
6358500989_1144c0f094_o
"Oh, I hate being dead," he rattled. "Throb. Throb. Throb. That's my stinking head, but why are my wingpits doing it, too? Say! Why am I thinking?"
"It's not thinking, Hubba Hubba," squeaked Chirp, "It's just you. Now could you please lift your wing? Squeak and Tweet are under here!"
"So you ones are dead too, aye?" he said, letting out a yelp from moving his head to peer under his wing.
"Good grief no!" chirped Tweet, with a ruffle of his feathers. "We're not dead and neither are you!" He gave Hubba Hubba two or three one eyed inspections. "You sure have a knot on your knitty box. What the ding-dong blazes did you fly into up there?"
"I have no idea at all, but for some crazy reason it made me think of Ugleeuh..." And at that very instant he was yanked out of the grass by his neck.
feature-spring-2011-next_gen-header
"Hey!" crowed a stinky beefy boy with a hateful grip, as he sprang into a dancing pell-mell run through the grass. "I got him! I got him! I got him! I got him!"
***
Chirp, Tweet and Squeak shot into the air from where Hubba Hubba had fallen and watched in shock from the top of a big walnut tree as the stinky beefy boy made off with him through the grass. "They'll get away if we don't get moving!" squeaked Chirp as they all dove into the air.
"He'd never let someone make off with us!" tweeted Squeak.
"Let's keep up!" chirped Tweet.
"Hey!" squeaked Chirp. "Somebody tell me how we're going to save him from a grabby boy a thousand times bigger than we are. He'll pull our heads off!"
"Go for help!" chirped Tweet.
"And somebody still has to follow," tweeted Squeak.
"Someone needs to find Herio and bring him here, while the other two of us follow Hubba Hubba," squeaked Chirp. "When we see where the boy takes him, one of us comes back here and the other stays and watches...
"Yea," chirped Tweet. "And hope to the Pit he doesn't get et while we're at it!"
"Don't even think that!" tweeted Squeak.sparrow12
"Just for that, you go find Herio," squeaked Chirp.
Tweet gave a wide-eyed nod and shot away with a bouncing blur of wings.

Carol Marrs Phipps and Tom 

Monday, July 25, 2016

Spark Loses His Feathers


archpaint

A shadow passed over them. Ugleeuh looked up with a start to see a deep green dragon with a turquoise crest, the size of a cow, gliding majestically for a row of openings into lava tubes running up the nearby dome. "It's a bird with teeth!" she cried, springing to her feet to shade her eyes. "And I swear I saw claws in its wings..."
"You did, dear," said Demonica. "And I trust you realize that this is one of the very dragons that we came for..."
"I knew what it was."
Demonica was not listening. "Here comes another," she said, touching Razzorbauch's arm.
"Good," he said, "I knew that this was the place, but until the first one swooped in, I hadn't quite spotted their caves. I was a bit further down, the time before. I spent all day,
and I allowed that there was above two hundred dragon a-coming and going. That ought
to suit my needs..."
"Yes," said Demonica. "They should suit us quite nicely."
"What if it saw us?" said Ugleeuh.
"I doubt if it did," said Demonica. "Had it seen us, it would be trying to set us alight, this minute. The pines hid us. That's why I changed into this terrible green kirtle before we left Head."
Sinornithosaurus_mag
"I've not seen a one, yet," said Demonica to Razzorbauch as she gave an impatient head to toe glance at Ugleeuh.
"You will," he said.
At that very moment, an echoing bellow from the caves got their attention in time for them to see a dozen dragons charging out abreast into the open air, blinded by the stinging fiery nightshade fumes, snorting and gasping, flapping their wings and stumbling
about.
"Keep them blind!" shouted Razzorbauch as he ran toward the dragons with his staff leveled. "Don't let them spit flames! Freeze any that try to fly!"
Demonica set to work at once, hurling crackling lavender bolts from her staff into the faces of beast after beast as they thundered from the caves, while Razzorbauch sent out a pounding hail of flashes from his, causing the plumage to fall free from the dragons' wings and bodies in cascading bundles and wads, as the terrified animals flapped
themselves to nakedness, and the air filled with the stench of singeing feathers. More and
more came in a frantic rush for fresh air only to be undressed in their bewildered frenzy,
until at last the wash in front of the caves was filled with a milling herd of better than two
hundred naked dragons, fenced in by a corralling spell cast by Demonica.
Razzorbauch climbed a large red rock to stand above their heads. "Peoc'h!" he roared, addressing them in Headlandish. "Silence!"
At once, the only sounds to be heard were the rattling of cottonwood leaves and the nearby calls of laughing quail. As he stood there counting them, a young male who happened to be outside of Demonica's spell, was carefully inching away. Suddenly he
broke into a run for the caves. Razzorbauch jerked his staff aloft at the sight of him,
shooting him with a brilliant beam of ruby light from the Heart in its end, blowing him
apart with a thundering concussion which left a hole in the ground big enough to bury
several dragons, as a peppering of dirt and flecks of flesh rained down through the leaves
of the cottonwoods.
"N'eus ket tu da," said Razzorbauch, speaking out over the hushed herd. "There's no way to. There's no way anyone else could possibly break away and run. But you see what would happen if he could. From this moment on, for as long as you live, you are each my chattel. Now. I'm going to walk to the sea and you're going to follow me. It will be a few days to get there and a few more to wait for ships which will take you to my plantation." He paused to look over their numbers for a moment before clambering down from his rock. "Poent eo mont kuit!" he cried with a wave of his staff. "It's time to leave!" And with that, he began walking.
images (4)
The dragon multitude formed a lumbering queue as they followed, utterly beaten, as Demonica set out in their wake with her staff. Ugleeuh picked up one of the great green feathers littering the ground, every bit as long as she was tall and was astonished at how very light it was. "My!" she said. "These are light as a feather."
"One does expect that with feathers, dear," said Demonica.
Ugleeuh thought it would make quite a souvenir, but tossed it aside at the thought of the long walk ahead. "So," she said, catching up. "'Mammvro.' Wouldn't that be Headlandish for 'Motherland?'"
"It is. It's the dragon word for it, really. I call it that because of the dragons. The rest of the continent calls these the Red Lands or the Red Desert..."
"Dragon word? They can talk?"
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Carol Marrs Phipps & Tom Phipps

Friday, July 22, 2016

No Feeble Magic for Hubba Hubba


امازون دبل يلو
corvo

Hubba Hubba slowly ran his beak along the length of the back of a chair in the empty parlour and turned square about to run it all the way back. "All right, all right," he said, pausing to give his feathers a shake before strutting on. "I said I would, I said I would. I did, I did. But now that it comes to it, I don't know what I think about being a crow again. And what if something goes wrong? What if Razzmorten is so weak that he can't handle the spell and turns me into a roach or a maggot? What if his spell gives out just as I fly in to spy on Spitemorta and Demonica? They'll kill me, is what. Pull out my feathers and wring my neck."
queen-with-sword
Without warning a long blade sliced the air near his head. "Help!" he quacked as he tumbled into a gasping heap of feathers on the floor. "Hey Queen! What is this, a test of my mortality or what? As you can see, I can handle apoplexy but my head would come right off with that thing."
"Hubba Hubba!" she cried, stopping amidst her next swing. "I didn't see you!"
Buddy_3985_WarningHubba Hubba quacked again and backed under the chair.
"I'm so sorry! I just had Hebraun's claymore and...!"
"Minuet, what is all of this?" said Razzmorten, appearing as much without warning as she had.
"Why must these big missions always threaten to take off my head?" said Hubba Hubba, bristling and panting from the shadows.
"I'll learn this now, Father," said Minuet. "When Niarg goes to battle, they'll still have the crown to lead them forth."
"No!" said Razzmorten with a look of shock "Niarg needs you here. It can't afford to lose both Hebraun and you. If Spitemorta..."
"Ha!" barked Minuet bitterly, echoing in the arches of the ceiling. "Spitemorta! Yes! Let her come! When she does, I will cut out her black heart and feed it to the hogs. She took the light of my life and she'll meet her doom if she dares come at me."
"I will not cooperate with sweet and sour parrot. Traumatized, yes. Compliant? No. I refuse, I refuse. Queen, you and your awful sister..."
"What?" said Minuet as she stopped short to peer under the chair.
"I'll have you know that I'm not being dilatory," said Hubba Hubba with his tail fanned wide as he marched out from under the chair, running his beak along the floor as he came. "I'm right ready to set out on this mission without hesitation. I will not be threatened further..."
"Minuet please," said Razzmorten. "Hebraun would never have you do such a thing. For the love of the Fates, daughter, it's the very thing that got him killed."
"Yes, I know," she said, turning to face him, "and she did it. And that's exactly why I have to do this. You love me and don't want to lose me, so you want to stop me. Please know that I would never cause you grief. I own that I'm being vengeful, but you can rest assured that I'm not being rash. I'm set! You could ease my burden enormously by supporting my decision. If you can't, I'll not be resentful, but I'll not stray from my path."
"I'm going, I'm going!" said Hubba Hubba, pushing his beak around in circles on the floor. "You don't have to threaten me..."
"Hubba Hubba," said Minuet, "What makes you think I'm threatening you?"
"Right. Ugleeuh wasn't threatening me either. She was merely distraught. And you're just what, vengeful did you say?"
"Hubba Hubba! Here I've gone and had a grand packet of food made up for you..."
"What? With all my favorite treats?"
"Well yes..."
"See? Runs in the family. Put away your blade. I'm ready! I'm ready!"
300px-Amazona_-two_species_-captive_in_Mexico-8a"And what are you doing down there?" said Pebbles as she and the chicks alighted on the back of the chair.
"Here's Herio," said Minuet as she scooped up Hubba Hubba and gave him a scratch before letting him step off onto the chair. "Looks like he's ready."
2782516016_d92bbc36e2_o"Well, so am I," said Hubba Hubba with a confused look as Pebbles rattled her beak through his cheek feathers. 
"Ready enough for me to change you into a crow?" said Razzmorten.
The_Burgeoning_Cover_for_Kindle










Carol Marrs Phipps 
& Tom Phipps

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Our Theropod Dragons



Our dragon, Harpi tyrannus. R., is a relative of  Archaeopteryx and Deinonychus, which survived the Mwyaf Fawr Llosg or Greatest Burning and is traditionally classified as an Adar Drwg ("bad bird" in Old Niarg Standard) by such Niarg naturalists as Razzmorten Dewin. It is an eight to twenty foot long (six to thirteen foot tall) feathered flying Jurassic bird with teeth, fingered claws on the wrists of its wings and a long un-fused (non-pygostylic) bony tail. Long ago it developed the ability to produce, store and ignite large volumes of methane gas which enabled it to toast and make palatable the naturally occurring sukere cana in its original habitat on the Dark Continent.                      
Dragons' brains are about a third of the volume of human brains, however dragon brains are mostly cerebellum, where ours are mostly cerebrum. Since the tissue of the cerebrum is far more fatty and has fewer neurons in it per given volume, dragons have about as many synaptic junctions as we have, giving them an equivalent intelligence to ours. Indeed, they have true speech and they write and produce graphic art and sculpture. In spite of this, their behavior can seem strange and bird-like to us at times, since it consists of far more fixed-action patterns than does our behavior.  
Dragons arose in the southern mountains of the Dark Continent in the Age of Birds before the worldwide conflagration known as the Mwyaf Fawr Llosg. Beginning in early recorded times, they lived within a territory at the southern end of those mountains known as the Mammvro (Homeland in Headlandish). One of the emperors of the House of Dark sold the Mammvro to the sorceress Demonica as partial payment for arms. When the evil Wizard Razzorbauch turned the Forest Primeval into a vast sukre canna plantation, he needed a labor force capable of burning off the canna for harvesting the lucrative and seriously addictive sukere. Dragons were ideal for this, so Demonica invested in his enterprise by turning over the entire Mammvro dragon population to him, helping him render them featherless to keep them docile and by providing the ships to haul them to his plantation on the Northern Continent. In time, the dragons were freed and became fast allies of the kingdom of Niarg.                   

Did you ever imagine that dragons were a kind of primeval bird, an airborne dinosaur? What sort of dragons intrigue you? What sort of dragons do you fear?









                            

Monday, July 18, 2016

Neanderthal Under the Bridge

BDG_Neanderthal_02
In spite of what some people insisted twenty years ago, Neanderthals are not members of our species. They are Homo neanderthalensis and we are Homo sapiens. We are closely related but different species, not different races of the same species. Thousands of years in chilly overcast Europe selected for lots of Neanderthal characteristics similar to those of modern White humans, but now that we are able to compare actual Neanderthal DNA to neandERTHALchildTours, we find that these similarities are derived altogether differently. Neanderthals used entirely different DNA for their red hair than we use for ours.
Neanderthals' DNA differs from ours by 27.2 gene substitutions. Chimpanzees' DNA differs from ours by 55.0 gene substitutions. This means that Neanderthals were half as distantly related to us as chimpanzees. In spite of how much graphic representations such as Popeye look like humans to us, we would not have been inclined to breed with the Neanderthals we chanced upon, because they were simply too different.
If one is lucky enough to compare actual Neanderthal skulls to those of humans, he sees that Neanderthals had brow ridges and rounded chins, all right, but he also sees that imagesNeanderthals had huge eye sockets and a ballooned-out cranium in back, called an occipital bun. Casual observers seem to miss this, but to me this strongly suggests that Neanderthals were nocturnal. Nocturnal animals have larger eyes and enlarged visual areas of the brain which the bun would have housed.
Neanderthal fossils have an exceptional amount of healed fractures. When I was a crazy kid, we had a sport. We'd go out into the pasture where the cattle were bedded down in the moonlight to pick out a cow, jump astride her and see how long we could hang on when she got to her feet. Is this how Neanderthals hunted wooly mammoths?
Neanderthals showed up in Europe about 200,000 years ago and persisted until 28,000-24,000 years ago. We showed up about 35,000 years ago and warily shared the same habitat with them, for anywhere from 7,000 to 11,000 years. That's a long time to avoid neanderthal-615running into them in the shadows. We've only farmed and had towns for what, 8,000 years?
24,000 years is an awfully long time ago, but do you reckon that the troll under the bridge is some sort of ancient cultural memory? Is that why trolls are supposed to turn to stone in daylight? What do you think?