The Adventures of Little Tummy and Occasionally Uberstlachen in Oufaloufaland

Part One

One day in Oufaloufaland Little Tummy and his weight councillor Uberstlachen were feeling peckish, so, naturally, they went to the hardware store.

"Thirty pounds threepence worth of self-tapping screws please, but not the silver ones, they're too sticky, I'd like the opinionated ones. I find they make my fish more tender and open to a bit of questioning," Little Tummy said.

The thinking monobrow behind the desk looked at him thoughtfully for a while than said, with half a cup of barley sugar, "you know, you must have some bloody sick parents if they named you Uberstlachen."

"Oi, how'd you know his name was Oswald?" asked Little Tummy.

"I didn't, I knew it was Uberstlachen," replied the thinking monobrow calmly. This upset both Little Tummy and Uberstlachen greatly. It also upset someone's discarded brain sitting in a tin on one of the nearby shelves, but for a very different reason. Different in a disturbing and sexual way, so we can't describe it in the presence of fluffy cats. (Here the narrator tips his hat at the fluffy cats, and they respond by scratching his legs dreadfully, and so he vows never to bring cats of any sort, fluffy or non-fluffy, to one of his Oufaloufaland readings.)

Little Tummy and Uberstlachen were so cheesed off that they stormed out of the shop without so much as a how do you do.

"Great. Now we're going to have to go to a cafe or someatype to cure our hunger, seeing as there are no more hardware stores in town," said Uberstlachen the skydiving amateur.

Just then Bon Jovi came on in a nearby shop, so they had so immediately try to be the first to find a plastic figurine of the statue of liberty broken off somewhere in the middle as a pact that they had made at times square on the ides of march, with a headless no-body and something that looked like it could be a mixture of birthday tea pork chops, green, and a sizeable amount of loathing. (points were added if Marylyn Monroe's signature could be seen clearly in the twisted plastic; points were detracted if a vague aroma hung around the artefact that reminded Uberstlachen of afternoon dinner with granny*)

When Bon Jovi was over, Little Tummy remembered an episode of star trek, and he told Uberstlachen about it.

"I. HATE. STER. TRECK. So much so that I even took the time to spell it incorrectly," grunted Ubertslachen, and with each word he bashed Little Tummy once over the head with a spare drain pipe (with the exception of incorrectly, which got two because it's such a long word).

"Oh my god, I am a blight upon this earth," moaned Uberstlachen after the deed was done. But just then a red and gold dollop of green paint arrived in its automobile and reminded him that Little Tummy had killed Uberstlachen more than a dozen times over the last three centimetres, so everything was alright then.

*astoundingly, both of these conditions happened in the Paralympics of 1784 BC, but disappointingly, it occurred in a swimming event.

Epilogue:

Little Tummy got married and his wife gave birth to SEVEN lovey teapots, but one had a rather distasteful willow pattern, so it was culled and never spoken of again.

Uberstlachen proposed to a pretty tombstone, and they were wed in the lovely village of Inside-Brick. Everything went downhill from that, from Mrs Uberstlachen having an affair with the bloke from the hotdog stand, to Uberstlachen having to get a job at the No Nonsense Factory just to feed his five-and-a-half stomachs.

Thinking Monobrow stayed in his hardware shop untill he slowly morphed into a fashionably late hat stand. He remained single to the end of his days, although he did have something very casual going on with a fez at one stage.

The discarded brain was bought by a red-head, who later became prime minister of Australia. The two got along like chalk and cheese.

The red and gold dollop of green paint became a formula one race car driver, but his career came to a tragic end when he broke his south-south-east wing, rendering him mute.

Bon Jovi is a fictional band created solely for this story, and as such they do not have a future.