Subject:    For Sergey: CHAPTER 7 - A Mad Tofu Party
From:       "Plain, Simple, Blackhawk." <janosprohaska@earthlink.net>
Newsgroups: alt.fan.tom-servo
Message-ID: <janosprohaska-36232F.09571113112001@news.fu-berlin.de>


*************************************************************************
                    BLACKHAWK'S ADVENTURES IN SERVOLAND

Previous chapter: Pig and Peeper

CHAPTER VII

A Mad Tofu-Party

There was a table set out under a tree in front of the giant toilet, and 
the March Jaime and Captain Hatter were having Tofu at it: a Mortismouse 
was sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it 
as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head. 
`Very uncomfortable for the Mortismouse,' thought Blackhawk; `only, as 
it's asleep, I suppose it doesn't mind.'

The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at 
one corner of it: `No room! No room!' they cried out when they saw 
Blackhawk coming. `There's plenty of room!' said Blackhawk indignantly, 
and he sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table. 

`Have some whine,' the March Jaime said in an encouraging tone. 


[Image] Blackhawk sits down to Tofu with March Jaime, Captain Hatter and 
the Mortismouse.
                                                 _______________
                                                 \ ________    /
                /\               Your ego         \\in this\  /
    Que pedo!*  \\\     /\       wants cutting!    \\size___\/
              \  \\\   //\\                    \ ___|_______|__
  ______       \_ \\\#///\/                      -----66666----
  \____/_          \~ ~/                       (    /____6666
  33  (.           |0 0|                        )  (')    )66
  3"    >          |" "|               zzzz**  (   c       6
   \__ -           |-o-|          _ ___ _/      ====/_    _/ 
   / \\            \_-_/         / /   / \          __|  |___
 _/\  \|          -/" "\-        \_|- -\_/        /   /\/\   \
 || \  '--.____  /"|","|"\   .__   |   |      \__/  /|\/\/|\  \
 ||  \______|,,\("/|"_"|\")_(o)_)__|,. |_____3(____)_|/__\|_(())_______
 ||____||_____________________("(_____`'_______________________________
 ||___(|          ||"||( ) )|  )_)                |( ) )| ||  
 ||    \          ||"||( ) )| (_(                 |( ) )| ||    BH


 * "Who cut the cheese?
** "Why do I look like princess Leia?"


Blackhawk looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but 
Tofu. `I don't see any whine,' he remarked. 

`There isn't any,' said the March Jaime. 

`Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it,' said Blackhawk angrily. 

`It wasn't very civil of you to sit down without being invited,' said 
the March Jaime 'But the "Death of Civility" thread has been over for a 
long time now and WWS is out of town.'

`I didn't know it was your cool-table,' said Blackhawk; `it's laid for a 
great many more than three. I imagined this was either Sergey's birthday 
or Cronan's bachelor party'

`Your ego wants cutting,' said Captain Hatter. He had been looking at 
Blackhawk for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first 
speech.

`You should learn not to make personal remarks,' Blackhawk said with 
some severity; `it's very scuzzy.'

Captain Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he 
said was, `Why is a wraith like a writing-desk?' 

`Come, we shall have some fun now!' thought Blackhawk. `I'm glad they've 
begun trolling about Cronan. --I believe I can do some of that,' he 
added aloud.

`Do you mean that you think you started it?' said the March Jaime. 

`Exactly so,' said Blackhawk.

`Then you should say what you mean,' the March Jaime went on. 

`I do,' Blackhawk hastily replied; `at least -- at least I mean what I 
say -- that's the same thing, you know.'

`Not the same thing a bit!' said Captain Hatter. `You might just as well 
say that "I see what I troll" is the same thing as "I troll what I 
see"!' 

`You might just as well say,' added the March Jaime, `that "I like what 
I poop" is the same thing as "I poop what I like"!' 

`You might just as well say,' added the Mortismouse, who seemed to be 
talking in his sleep, `that "I die when I sleep" is the same thing as "I 
sleep when I die"!'

`It is the same thing with you,' said Captain Hatter, and here the 
conversation dropped, and the party sat silent for a minute, while 
Blackhawk thought over all he could remember about wraiths and 
writing-desks, which wasn't much.

Captain Hatter was the first to break the silence. `What day of the 
month is it?' he said, turning to Blackhawk: he had taken his watch out 
of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it every now and 
then, and holding it to his ear.

Blackhawk considered a little, and then said `The ninth.' 

`Two days wrong!' sighed Captain Hatter. `I told you butter wouldn't 
suit the works!' he added looking angrily at the March Jaime. 

`It was the best butter,' the March Jaime meekly replied. 

`Yes, but some crumbs must have got in as well,' Captain Hatter 
grumbled: `you shouldn't have put it in with The Witch's men of butter.' 

The March Jaime took the watch and looked at it gloomily: then he dipped 
it into his Kaopectate, and looked at it again: but he could think of 
nothing better to say than his first remark, `It was the best butter, 
you know.'

Blackhawk had been looking over his shoulder with some anxiousness. `Is 
this the part of the story where you explain the "Un-Birthdays?"' 

`Un-Birthdays?' muttered Captain Hatter. `What are you speaking of?' 

`Un-Birthdays,' Blackhawk replied very readily: `You know, everyone has 
only 1 birthday, but we have 365 Un-Birthdays! You see I'm making this 
satire because it was Sergey's Birthday and I spent days trying to think 
of a clever way to wish him a "Happy Birthday". But his 18th birthday 
means he has to go into the Israeli Army and how "happy" can that be? So 
I got this great idea to tie "Alice" into his tribute and instead wish 
*everyone else* in Servo a very merry Un-Birthday as a tribute to him.' 

'Sad case really' said Captain Hatter, shaking his head and pointing his 
tofu-spoon at Blackhawk.

'What?' replied Blackhawk

'You've made an ignorant mistake' the March Jaime answered, 'You see the 
"Un-Birthday Song" only happens in the Walt Disney(tm) version of this 
story and you've gone with the classic Carroll text' 

`Which is just the case with mine,' said Captain Hatter. 

Blackhawk felt dreadfully puzzled. Captain Hatter's remark seemed to 
have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. `I 
don't quite understand you,' he said, as politely as he could. 

`The Mortismouse is asleep again,' said Captain Hatter, and he smeared a 
little hot Tofu upon its nose.

The Mortismouse shook its head impatiently, and said, without opening 
its eyes, `Of course, of course; just what I was going to remark 
myself.' 

`Have you guessed the riddle yet?' Captain Hatter said, turning to 
Blackhawk again.

`No, I give it up,' Blackhawk replied: `what's the answer?' 

`I haven't the slightest idea,' said Captain Hatter. 

`Nor I,' said the March Jaime.

Blackhawk sighed wearily. `As jdn says, I think you might do something 
better with the time,' he said, `than waste it in asking riddles that 
have no answers.'

`If you knew Time as well as I do,' said Captain Hatter, `you wouldn't 
talk about wasting it. It's him.'

`I don't know what you mean,' said Blackhawk. 

`Of course you don't!' Captain Hatter said, tossing his head 
contemptuously. `I dare say you never even spoke to Time, or his friend 
Bandwidth for that matter!'

`Perhaps not,' Blackhawk cautiously replied: `but I know I have to beat 
time when I learn music.'

`Ah! that accounts for it,' said Captain Hatter. `He won't stand 
beating. 

`Is that the way you manage the March Jaime?' Blackhawk asked. 

Captain Hatter shook his head mournfully. `Not I!' he replied. `We 
quarreled last March -- just before he went mad, you know --' (pointing 
with his Tofu spoon at the March Jaime,) `--it was at the great concert 
given by The Witch of Hearts, and I had to sing 

"Twinkle, twinkle, little Servo!
People say I'm such a weirdo!"

You know the song, perhaps?'

`I've heard something like it,' said Blackhawk. 

`It goes on, you know,' Captain Hatter continued, `in this way:-- 

"Up above the world you peep,
Like a Tofu hit that's deep.
Twinkle, twinkle--"'

Here the Mortismouse shook itself, and began singing in its sleep 
`Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle--' and went on so long that they had 
to flame it to make it stop.

`Well, I'd hardly finished the first verse,' said Captain Hatter, `when 
The Witch...'

'The Wench' said the Mortismouse.

'It was I' exclaimed the March Jaime.

'Whoever' said Captain Hatter, 'jumped up and bawled out, "He's 
murdering the time! Off with his balls!"'

`How dreadfully savage!' exclaimed Blackhawk. 

[image] Captain Hatter waxes poetic

           ___________________
           \                 /
            \               /
             \ _______     /
              \\in this\  /
               \\size___\/  
           ____|________|____     "He's murdering the time!
           -----9___-___9----      Off with his balls!"
               9(( o|o ))9       /   
               99   O   99      
                9   0   9   
                 \_   _/   / _///
            _      |-|____/ |
           | '----'\_/\ _|__|
          _| /  \ \/ \/|
      _\\\__/    \/` `\|          BH


`And ever since that,' Captain Hatter went on in a mournful tone, `they 
won't do a thing I ask! It's always IRC chat time now.' 

A bright idea came into Blackhawk's head. `Is that the reason so many 
Tofu-things are put out here?' he asked. 

`Yes, that's it,' said Captain Hatter with a sigh: `it's always 
Tofu-time, and we've no time to clean the stash between whiles.' 

`Then you keep moving round, I suppose?' said Blackhawk. 

`Exactly so,' said Captain Hatter: `as the posters get used up.' 

`But what happens when you come to the beginning again?' Blackhawk 
ventured to ask.

`Suppose we change the subject,' the March Jaime interrupted, yawning. 
`I'm getting tired of this. I vote Blackhawk tells us a story.' 

`I'm afraid I don't know one,' said Blackhawk, rather alarmed at the 
proposal. 

`Then the Mortismouse shall!' they both cried. `Wake up, Mortismouse!' 
And they pinched it on both sides at once.

The Mortismouse slowly opened his eyes. `I wasn't asleep,' he said in a 
hoarse, feeble voice: `I heard every word you fellows were saying.' 

`Tell us a story!' said the March Jaime. 

`Yes, please do!' pleaded Blackhawk.

`And be quick about it,' added Captain Hatter, `or you'll be asleep 
again before it's done.'

The Mortismouse began `Once upon a time, One Peep walking all alone-
Trying it's best to find the way home
Meets a Peep beside the stream-
Now there are two who share the dream.'

`What did they live on?' said Blackhawk, who always took a great 
interest in questions of eating and drinking.

`They lived on vicariously, at the bottom of a well' said the 
Mortismouse, after thinking a minute or two.

`They couldn't have done that, you know,' Blackhawk gently remarked; 
`they'd have been ill.'

`So they were,' said the Mortismouse; `very ill.' 

Blackhawk tried to fancy to himself what such an extraordinary way of 
living would be like, but it puzzled him too much, so he went on: `But 
why did they live at the bottom of a well?'

`Toke some more Tofu,' the March Jaime said to Blackhawk, very 
earnestly. 

`I've had nothing yet,' Blackhawk replied in an offended tone, `so I 
can't toke more.'

`You mean you can't toke less,' said Captain Hatter: `it's very easy to 
toke more than nothing.'

`Nobody asked your opinion,' said Blackhawk, `besides, I don't inhale.'

`Who's making personal remarks now?' Captain Hatter asked triumphantly. 

`There's a Clinton joke in here somewhere' said jdn (who wasn't really 
in the chapter).

Blackhawk did not quite know what to say to this: so he helped himself 
to some Tofu and bread-and-butter, and then turned to the Mortismouse, 
and repeated his question. `Why did they live at the bottom of a well?' 

The Mortismouse again took a minute or two to think about it, and then 
said, `It was a vicarious well.'

`There's no such thing!' Blackhawk was beginning very angrily, but 
Captain Hatter and the March Jaime went `Sh! sh!' and the Mortismouse 
sulkily remarked, `If you can't be civil, you'd better finish the story 
for yourself.'

`No, please go on!' Blackhawk said very humbly; `I won't interrupt 
again. I dare say there may be one.'

`One, indeed!' said the Mortismouse indignantly. However, he consented 
to go on.
`Joined by a third Peep they look under a stone- But a friendly bug 
calls this place home. Peep number four helps the search for their 
house- 

`What kind of posters?' said Blackhawk, quite forgetting his promise. 

`Newbies,' said the Mortismouse, without considering at all this time. 

`I want a clean clip,' interrupted Captain Hatter: `let's all move one 
place on.' 

He moved on as he spoke, and the Mortismouse followed him: the March 
Jaime moved into the Mortismouse's place, and Blackhawk rather 
unwillingly took the place of the March Jaime. Captain Hatter was the 
only one who got any advantage from the change: and Blackhawk was a good 
deal worse off than before, as the March Jaime had just upset the 
Kaopectate bottle into his plate.

Blackhawk did not wish to offend the Mortismouse again, so he began very 
cautiously: `But I don't understand. Where did they draw the newbies 
from?' 

`You can draw water out of a water-well,' said Captain Hatter; `so I 
should think you could draw newbies out of a newbie-well -- eh, stupid?' 

`But they were in the well,' Blackhawk said to the Mortismouse, not 
choosing to notice this last remark.

`Of course they were', said the Mortismouse; `-- well in.' 

This answer so confused poor Blackhawk, that he let the Mortismouse go 
on for some time without interrupting it.

`But this big field is home to a mouse,' the Mortismouse went on, 
yawning and rubbing its eyes, for it was getting very sleepy; `and then 
they drew all manner of things--everything that begins with an M. --' 

`Why with an M.?' said Blackhawk.

`Why not?' said the March Jaime. 'We had to work her in somewhere.' 

Blackhawk was silent. He wondered why Podkayne, Rev. Sean, MQS and the 
others weren't in the story.

The Mortismouse had closed its eyes by this time, and was going off into 
a doze; but, on being pinched by Captain Hatter, it woke up again with a 
little shriek, and went on: `--that begins with an M, such as 
mouse-traps, and the moon, and meme, and muchness-- you know you say 
things are "much of a muchness"--did you ever see such a thing as a 
drawing of a muchness?' 

`Really, now you ask me,' said Blackhawk, very much confused, `I don't 
think--' 

`Then you shouldn't talk,' said Captain Hatter. 

This piece of rudeness was more than Blackhawk could bear: he got up in 
great disgust, and walked off; the Mortismouse fell asleep instantly, 
and neither of the others took the least notice of his going, though he 
looked back once or twice, half hoping that they would call after him: 
the last time he saw them, they were trying to put the Mortismouse into 
the Tofupot.

[image] putting the Mortismouse into the Tofupot.

                               )  
                              (   )
                               ) ((
______________________________(__ ))
    #       ~ /    "      .    ==(
    ~  /         -   '         == )
---/---------------------------==
                      || ___ ||
                      /\/   \/\  Boo!*
                      \/ @ @ \/  /
                      |       |
                      |       |
                      |       |
                      |       |
                      |       |
                      |/\     |
                         `'\/`'

_________       ___________       ___________        _
         \     /           \     /           \      / |
          \___/             \___/             \____/  |
                                                      |
                                                      |
 _   _       _ _     _               ___              |
| | | | ___ | (_) __| | __ _ _   _  |_ _|_ __  _ __   |
| |_| |/ _ \| | |/ _` |/ _` | | | |  | || '_ \| '_ \  |
|  _  | (_) | | | (_| | (_| | |_| |  | || | | | | | | |
|_| |_|\___/|_|_|\__,_|\__,_|\__, | |___|_| |_|_| |_| |
                             |___/                    |
____________________________________________________BH| 

* "Talk about making an ash of oneself..."

`At any rate I'll never do IRC again!' said Blackhawk as he picked his 
way through the net. `It's the stupidest Tofu-party I ever was at in all 
my life!'

Just as he said this, he noticed that one of the chat rooms had a door 
leading right into it. `That's very curious!' he thought. `But 
everything's curious today. I think I may as well go in at once.' And in 
he went.

Once more he found himself in the long hall, and close to the lots42 
table. `Now, I'll manage better this time,' he said to himself, and 
began by taking the little golden Kibo, and unlocking the door that led 
into the froup. Then he went to work nibbling at the pez (he had kept a 
few in his pocket) till he was about a foot high: then he walked down 
the little passage: and then--he found himself at last in the beautiful 
froup, among the bright chowder-heads and the cool tables.

Next chapter: The Witch's Croquet-Ground 

---
Credits: Freely adapted (with frighteningly little change) from the work 
of Lewis Carroll and the Marshmallow Peeps Pop-up book.

  

Author's Notes for this chapter

Original version of this chapter

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