Post by bobcochran on Jun 11, 2007 16:13:06 GMT
One evening young Uriah Nussbladder was flipping through the channels on his TV when he came across the first Celtic Woman special just as Meav began singing "Danny Boy." Nussbladder was immediately smitten by her beautiful voice, and bought a ticket for their show in North Sebastapol, the city nearest his humble abode, during the first pledge break.
Nussbladder did not possess an automobile, just a trusted elderly steed named Phineas. Ol' Phineas was especially sluggish after a recent bout with the flu, so Nussbladder took him to the County Animal Hospital. He told the veterinarian in charge, Dr. Lucretius Hemoglobin, to get Phineas into top shape in time for the Celtic Woman concert.
Dr. Hemoglobin took Nussbladder's payment and led ol' Phineas to the nearest stall. Unfortunately, he forgot to lock it, and was mortified the next day when he found that Phineas had wandered off during the night. Dr. Hemoglobin fretted away the hours looking for a way out of his predicament, when inspiration came his way in the form of a documentary on Leonard Da Vinci.
He laboured away the night in his garage building a DaVinciesque looking wooden thing with four movable legs, but still needed something to power his contraption. Fortunately, he had an over abundance of hamsters at the moment. He installed some exercise wheels and pulleys to help propel the device. He then bought several yards of brown felt and some horsehair wigs in an attempt to make the thing resemble ol' Phineas as much as possible.
Nussbladder came by the animal hospital on the day of the show to pick up Phineas. Dr. Hemoglobin invited him inside for a few drinks, which he had spiked with grain alcohol to insure Nussbladder would be too drunk to distinguish the felt-covered, hamster-powered device from his beloved ol' Phineas. The plan worked, and several hours later an inebriated Nussbladder mounted the "horse" and lurched away in the direction of North Sebastapol.
Nussbladder was making slow, but steady progress on his journey when fate intervened in the form of a road-side carnival, complete with a ferris wheel. Nussbladder didn't take notice, but the hamsters powering the contrivance did, and made a beeline for what them was the mother of all exercise wheels. Amazed onlookers watched as an odd-looking beast with a drunken man on its back leaped into the ferris wheel frame and merrily trotted away inside the giant wheel.
Carnival owner Adolph Crestapuelle was bewildered at first when he beheld this strange sight, but soon took advantage of the unexpected good fortune and used the revenue from his vastly increased ticket sales to install a large water bottle on the ferris wheel. Eventually Nussbladder sobered up enough to realize the plight he faced and managed to use the tools on his Swiss Army knife to loosen the ferris wheel from its frame. Once the ferris wheel was loose, and Nussbladder discovered he could steer the wheel by adjusting the water bottle. he and the hamster-driven "horse" rolled on their way to North Sebastapol.
Nussbladder's eventful sojourn came to an end when he arrived at Ezra Klemelhop's Concert Hall & Indoor Plumbing Emporium, the site of that evening's Celtic Woman concert. Alas for poor Nussbladder he was turned away at the box office when the baffled attendant told the odd-looking figure wearing a tartan plaid kilt and matching ferris wheel that he was improperly dressed.
Nussbladder did not possess an automobile, just a trusted elderly steed named Phineas. Ol' Phineas was especially sluggish after a recent bout with the flu, so Nussbladder took him to the County Animal Hospital. He told the veterinarian in charge, Dr. Lucretius Hemoglobin, to get Phineas into top shape in time for the Celtic Woman concert.
Dr. Hemoglobin took Nussbladder's payment and led ol' Phineas to the nearest stall. Unfortunately, he forgot to lock it, and was mortified the next day when he found that Phineas had wandered off during the night. Dr. Hemoglobin fretted away the hours looking for a way out of his predicament, when inspiration came his way in the form of a documentary on Leonard Da Vinci.
He laboured away the night in his garage building a DaVinciesque looking wooden thing with four movable legs, but still needed something to power his contraption. Fortunately, he had an over abundance of hamsters at the moment. He installed some exercise wheels and pulleys to help propel the device. He then bought several yards of brown felt and some horsehair wigs in an attempt to make the thing resemble ol' Phineas as much as possible.
Nussbladder came by the animal hospital on the day of the show to pick up Phineas. Dr. Hemoglobin invited him inside for a few drinks, which he had spiked with grain alcohol to insure Nussbladder would be too drunk to distinguish the felt-covered, hamster-powered device from his beloved ol' Phineas. The plan worked, and several hours later an inebriated Nussbladder mounted the "horse" and lurched away in the direction of North Sebastapol.
Nussbladder was making slow, but steady progress on his journey when fate intervened in the form of a road-side carnival, complete with a ferris wheel. Nussbladder didn't take notice, but the hamsters powering the contrivance did, and made a beeline for what them was the mother of all exercise wheels. Amazed onlookers watched as an odd-looking beast with a drunken man on its back leaped into the ferris wheel frame and merrily trotted away inside the giant wheel.
Carnival owner Adolph Crestapuelle was bewildered at first when he beheld this strange sight, but soon took advantage of the unexpected good fortune and used the revenue from his vastly increased ticket sales to install a large water bottle on the ferris wheel. Eventually Nussbladder sobered up enough to realize the plight he faced and managed to use the tools on his Swiss Army knife to loosen the ferris wheel from its frame. Once the ferris wheel was loose, and Nussbladder discovered he could steer the wheel by adjusting the water bottle. he and the hamster-driven "horse" rolled on their way to North Sebastapol.
Nussbladder's eventful sojourn came to an end when he arrived at Ezra Klemelhop's Concert Hall & Indoor Plumbing Emporium, the site of that evening's Celtic Woman concert. Alas for poor Nussbladder he was turned away at the box office when the baffled attendant told the odd-looking figure wearing a tartan plaid kilt and matching ferris wheel that he was improperly dressed.