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Roaming Through Epi-Land: An Adventure From The Valley Of The ShmoonNov 01 '07 (Updated Dec 14 '07) Write an essay on this topic.
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Once upon a time there was a simple Shmoo. Now, while Shmoos are fairly simple creatures by nature, this one was particularly less complicated than most. You could argue that this Shmoo wore his heart on his sleeve but you would be wrong. Not because this Shmoo wasn't open and honest, but because Shmoos have no arms and therefore... no sleeves. Everyday, the Shmoo would follallop around his valley thinking to himself... “gee I'm sorta bored, I wonder what I could do today for fun”. Oh sure he could work more, and the great Shmoo above knew that he should, but that wasn't exactly fun. In fact it was sort of the opposite of fun which was why he figured they called it “work”. He wanted exciting stories that he could bring home to his loving wife Mrs. Lee Shmoo and his newly arrived Shmoo daughter Hailee Shmoo. The problem was that the only other occupants in his neck of the woods were also Shmoos and while Shmoos enjoy hanging out with other Shmoos, they get to know each other fairly well and become predictable. Everyday, the Shmoo would travel his way to his job and have the same conversations. "Mornin Shmoo." "Mornin Shmoo." "How's Mrs. Shmoo?" "She's good, she's good... and you? How's Mrs. Shmoo?" "She's good, she's good. Looks like rain wouldn't you say?" "Yep... that it does Shmoo, but I hope not. I'm supposed to go to The New Shmoo Zoo tomorrow. Say... did you watch Lost last night?" "Nope, I was busy watching the game. Did you see the game Shmoo?" "Nope, but I can't stand the game... you know that." "Oh yup... That I do. You must be the only Shmoo I know who doesn't like the game." "Yup... guess that makes me unique." "That it does. Anyhoo... bye Shmoo, I'll talk to you again tomorrow. I'm going home now to watch the game." "Have fun, bye Shmoo." Everyday... the same.. He tried to shake things up, but to no avail. He talked to the trees, but they didn't listen to him, he talked to the stars but they didn't hear him. The breeze hadn't time to stop and hear what he said. Nature was arrogant in its silence and ignored the ever friendly but bored Shmoo. Then one day, one day exactly a year ago today actually, he decided, for no particular reason, to climb to the top of Mount Bentley. No one ever climbed to the top of Mount Bentley, at least no-one he'd ever known. The inhabitants of his land had a mountain towering right up out of the middle of the valley of the Shmoon and everyone walked all around it yet ignored it as if it wasn't there. Well it was there, and the Shmoo would climb it... for no other reason then the fact that it was there. Why... this was the same logic that his aunt's sister, the great Shmoo Edmund Hillary (his grand-parents had wanted a boy) had used when she decided to climb Mount Shmooverest. "Edmund!!! (or Hillary!!! if you prefer) Why are you going to climb Shmooverest?" "Because it's there!" "Yes...???...??? and ???" "No... that's it. I will climb it because it's there." "But... we all know it's there. You don't have to climb it. We can see that it's there. It's a big huge freakin' mountain... you'd have to be blind to not notice it's there." "No... I will climb it BECAUSE it's there." "but... we just said we know it's there. If you're trying to prove a point, you don't have to. We will agree with you that it's there. Look at how nice we are... we just saved you a trip... "No... I... wait... no. Look you guys don't get it. I'm not trying to prove of its existence... I... uhhhh... wait..." "C'mon guys, let's go. This Hillary chick is a loony." Good to her word, Hillary climbed Shmooverest which was in fact there, which everyone had always known and had been telling her for months, much to her frustration. Along the way she almost starved and had to eat her Sherpa guide Tenzing Shmoogay to survive. Her perilous climb, the cannibalism, the subsequent scorn and derision, the failed cook book tour (turned out that no one wanted Savory Sherpa Surprise) and Hillary's inevitable insanity were the main reasons that the Shmoos never climbed the mountains that surrounded them. Most of the time they just eyed them with distrust and tried to avoid them. But one year ago today was different. One year ago today our Shmoo chose to follow in the footsteps of his relative. Well...No, he didn't follow in her actual footsteps because they had moved out from the shadow of Shmooverest long ago and in any effect she hadn't left any footsteps, and no... he wouldn't eat a Sherpa or almost die (and he would avoid insanity for as long as he could) but yes he would follow in the general feel of her footsteps and climb that damn mountain just cuz it was there. So he did. Much to his surprise, the view from the top of Mount Bentley revealed a whole other world. Turns out that the Valley of the Shmoon was surrounded by water and a few miles from shore there was an island that had been blocked from plain site by Mount Bentley itself. Unless you were on Mount Bentley, you would never see it. The Shmoo reached the top of the mountain, amidst much huffing and puffing, just in time to see a boat arrive from the island and dock itself off the main harbor. The ship's captain, dressed in a Mexican wrestling mask and florescent red cape, spent the day walking up and down the shore line in anticipation of someone wanting a ride across to the island. The Shmoo watched the whole day through as no one went on board. Finally, the end of the day was approaching and it was obvious that the masked captain was preparing to leave despite being light on the passenger load. “Wait!!!” yelled the Shmoo. He raced down the side of the mountain. “Wait!!!" yelled the Shmoo. He ran through the center of town. “Wait!!!" yelled the Shmoo. He tore down to the water's edge as fast as he could. “Wait!!!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Whoa.... little blobby guy...No need to shout,” said the ship's captain. “I've been able to hear you for miles. Want a lift?” “You Bet!!! How Much?” yelled the Shmoo unable to control his excitement or his volume. The captain unmoored the little tug and slowly guided it back to his land. “It's free blobby dude.... seriously, stop yelling.” It wasn't until the Shmoo was sitting comfortably in the back of the boat that a fear set in to his portly little bones. He had no idea where the boat was taking him. From the port side of the boat came a small watery “blurp” followed quickly by a much larger one off the starboard. A geyser of water splurted up and sprayed The Shmoo from head to foot, drenching him in foul smelling water. “Howdy blob.” came a deep voice from starboard “Uhhh Howdy back... Who are you?” asked the Shmoo “I'm Willie the Pin-Headed Whale.” came the answer. “Please ta meetcha. I'm a Shmoo.” answered the Shmoo. “Do all Shmoos smell as bad as you?” “Ummm... you just sprayed me with nasty blow-hole water” said the Shmoo in a confused voice. “Don't mind him.” came a voice from the port side of the boat. “he's mostly harmless.” The Shmoo looked over the port side. Swimming happily by his side was a medium sized flounder wearing a crown. “I'm the King Of All Fish.” “An honor your highness.” said the Shmoo, bowing low. “No need to be so formal... in fact you can just call me Fish. If you keep calling me you're highness you'll upset the Dolphin. He thinks he's the king and I don't have the heart to tell him otherwise.” OK...An honor your... fish...ness.” “That's sort of better.” “Out of curiosity Fish, where is this boat taking me?” “Seriously? Shmoo... you're going to Epi-Land.” “Epi-Land?” “Epi-Land. It's a wondrous magical place filled with enchanted creatures. Everyday they talk about the things they love and the things they don't. They will ask you your opinion on almost anything. For instance... what do you like to do for fun?” “I like to read and watch movies with Mrs. Shmoo. I like to play with my little girl Hailee Shmoo” “Well then... you could start giving your opinion on movies and books.You could tell people about toys.” “....and..... what?” “And they'll listen... and they'll tell you how good your opinion is.” The Shmoo sat back and pondered this. A captive audience. A group of creatures that would listen to what ever he wanted to talk about. A group of creatures that would offer him advice on things that he wanted to read about. “Wild....” thought the Shmoo. That first night, The Shmoo wandered cautiously through Epi-Land since he was a stranger. He decided that he would talk about the scariest horror movies he had ever seen. Soon he had over a dozen people listening to him. There was a Centaur and a man who rode a donkey whom the Shmoo would soon come to know as the Donkey Rider. There was Smorg, the giant opera loving dragon, and a pastry chef with the head of a Collie. They listened attentively and laughed in the right places. At times they applauded and when it was all done... even though they didn't all agree with the choices he made, he heard several “That was Very Good”'s before his audience wandered off to listen to others. “This is a piece of cake”, thought the Shmoo. He quickly went home and ate cake, since it was on his mind. It was chocolate so he also had a big glass of milk. "Yummmm... Cake." he thought. The next night he was back again on the boat to Epi-Land with bolstered confidence. He had three movies that he would talk about. He hadn't prepared or anything but decided that he would “wing it.” He would let his inherited Shmoo charm carry him. He knew as well as anyone that Shmoo's can be naturally charming beasts and darned if he wasn't more charming than most. “This will be a piece of cake”. he thought. Then he unwrapped some left over cake that he had brought along with him (just in case he should think of cake) and ate it. "Yummm.... Cake." he thought. He washed it down with a thermos filled with milk. He was happy that he hadn't thought about Ice Cream because he knew that his ice cream cravings could be murder. Then he immediately regretted his decision about thinking of Ice Cream because he hadn't brought any. “Hear Me”, he called out when he arrived at the shore, “Today I will talk of Saw II and Silent Hill and Lucky # Sleven” The Dragon and the Centaur were back, but didn't seem as enthused. In fact there were almost double the amount of people that had listened to him the previous evening but the reception was decidedly cooler than it had been. He switched topics at random and tried to amuse. He didn't fall flat on his own flop sweat but definitely slipped in it a few times. “What happened?” he said quietly to himself when the evening had ended and the folks had all left. A female lion walked up to him and whispered. “It just wasn't that good Shmoo.” “Not THAT GOOD??? But It's my opinion? How can my opinion not be good???” “Just because you have an opinion doesn't mean it's a good one.” came her answer. The Shmoo was pretty silent on the trip home that night. The Whale and The King Of All Fish had joined him again. “ahhh...Screw 'em” was the Whale's advice.... but the Shmoo knew there was more to it than that. He had been lazy. He hadn't done the work. He'd been unprepared. This was a mistake he wouldn't make again. People might not always like what he talked about, or how he chose to talk about it but never again would he be unprepared. The Shmoo continued his trips to the Island of Epi-land conversing daily with the Whale and The Kingfish, listening to their advice and their interpretation of events. The Whale tended to act more from the gut and would frequently involuntarily spout filthy water from his blow hole. The Kingfish, on the other hand, often sat in repose for quite some time before offering advice or taking action. The Shmoo started enjoying his conversations with the King Of All Fish so much that often he would go down to the dock and talk to him whether he was making the trip to the Island or not. It became quite common to see The Shmoo with his toes dipped in to the water, jabbering away to nothing in particular . You had to look very closely to see the bobbing golden twinkle of the crown where the Shoo aimed most of his discourse. With each passing day The Shmoo disclosed a bit more about himself and his life back in The Valley Of The Shmoon and he quickly discovered that while he was interested in this new world, the people there were also interested in his adventures back home. He intertwined his opinions with stories involving Mrs. Shmoo (with her loving permission of course) and his daughter. He laughed about incidents with Mrs. Shmoo's parents and expanded on things that he had always found mundane and boring, amazed now at how interesting they actually were when he reflected on them. Better yet, he made many friends and had some pretty good adventures. Despite being careful and avoiding the dreaded ...smiliemoment... traps that littered the landscape, one day the Shmoo carelessly stepped in a nest of tiny Shleps. He was petrified as they and their fearless Queen SkirtSteak swarmed all over him, inspecting him and looking for malice or deceit. God knows what would have happened to him if they had found any (they had been known to reduce comment threads to mushy pulp in mere minutes if they were left unchecked), but they didn't and they soon came to trust him as he wobbled shmooley through the forest. On more than one occasion the Shleps, and their friends JamStroller and the Little Squidd, welcomed Shmoo warmly when he arrived on the shore. On other occasions they spent the day partying with him when he had little to talk about but just wanted some mindless fun. They made him feel truly wanted. He met an UgglyBugg which, it turned out, was't uggly at all. He caught site of the elusive Cyprian Lammet and Nagels the fun loving yet dour faced Potato Man. Daily he was tempted to yell out “C'mon..,. Crack a smile Potato man!!!” until The Kingfish informed him (in strictest confidence of course) that The Potato Man only looked dour because he was born with no facial muscles. The Fish assured him however that Potato Man was laughing on the inside. Was all his time pleasant? No... only a fool can go through life saying that every thing is hunky dory. The Shmoo made mistakes as any creature would. On several occasions the Shmoo “spiced up” his reviews with decidedly salty language to ensure more laughter. After one such occasion the Captain told the Shmoo that he wasn't welcome on the boat. The Shmoo was disappointed and snuck aboard anyway, wearing the mask of his brother. Unfortunately he and his brother looked extremely similar so the disguise didn't last long at all. He ended up in the office of Epi-Land's Mayor (who turned out to be the ship captain as well) apologizing for his deception and asking politely what he had done to deserve banishment. Turns out it had all been a big clerical error. It wouldn't be the only time that he would have to speak with The Mayor and after a while the Shmoo could almost hear amused resignation in the Mayor's voice when The Shmoo appeared. "Y'know Shmoo," the Mayor might say, "My Green Hats (the upholders of Epi-Land Law) tell me they caught you wearing a disguise (or pimping one of your links, or trying to start a pointless flame-war, or kidnapping an innocent Monkey and threatening to kill it if you didn't get a larger audience). That's sort of frowned on here." "Sorry Mayor," the Shmoo would respond while he galoophed uncomfortably, "I didn't realize that disguises (or links, or flame-wars or kidnapped Monkeys) were all that big a deal." Thankfully the Mayor recognized that the Shmoo's mistakes were honest ones and he seemed to learn from them promising never to make the same one twice. At times the Shmoo trusted the wrong people. This would probably happen from time to time but luckily he had been able to correct this mistake before it caused him any serious damage. Not all inhabitants of Epi-land were friendly and some would be apt to take pot shots at folks who trespassed to close to their lands. The Shmoo learned to avoid Ogre Forest while he was travelling around the Island for more whimsical entertainment. The Ogre inhabitants seemed to think that the forest was theirs and theirs alone and if you did not show the proper respect, if you were maybe a bit too fun loving, then you were deserving of a load of buckshot. Luckily, these few creatures have bad aim and are slow to re-load. One day the shmoo noticed that the Whale was missing from the trip across to the Island. He had been missing for quite some time. The Kingfish and the Shmoo hypothesized as to what had happened but it wasn't until a few days later that they received confirmation. The Whale had been attacked and infected by a Lampreto Parasite... the deadliest one known to these lands. The parasite had caused moments of uncontrolled insanity and spontaneous Tourettes syndrome. The parasite had infected their friend with schizophrenic tendencies. After a while it became apparent the the Whale's very flesh was toxic and would soon kill all the life in the water surrounding Epi-Land. He had to be removed to ensure the lands survival. So he was. ... and as much as it pained the Shmoo that this door on his adventures had closed he also recognized that other doors were opening. True, he would miss the laughter that the Whale had supplied, but he wouldn't miss ducking the putrid fountains of blow-hole water that also came with hanging out near him. A year later, the Shmoo can still be found roaming Epi-land and he knows that new great adventures await him. He still talks daily with the King Of All Fish and often with Skirtsteak and her Shleps as well as JamStroller and Little Squidd,. He still visits with Smorg and Lammet. For the longest time he had chosen to avoid the candy house of The Red Headed Nocket. He had heard that this odd bird was a sour being and not to be trusted however at the urging of the Kingfish he had sought it out and asked it if he could come over to Tea. Turns out, The Nocket and The Shmoo got along fabulously and have many similar interests. At the end of their first meeting, had the Shmoo had a hat, it would have been in his hands. If he had had hands it would have held his hat. He apologized to the Nocket for his idiotic presumption and asked politely if they could chat again some time. They could and do. When the Shmoo is feeling particularly puckish, he seeks out the one called Weeby who wanders the woods with his goldfish Vaneri and his one-eyed caretaker who has a hook and wooden vampire teeth. Weeby is silly, with his tales of Hemroids and the list of waiters who haven't abused him, but there is no malice in him. He's harmless and funny. He's nice. The Shmoo spends a lot of time talking about his daughter, or his wife, or his Goldie Shmoo or The Dude. He hasn't changed much with one main exception. A year ago today, he ran to Epi-Land, seeking a bit of adventure that he could share with his family. Today he realizes that he lives a fair amount of adventure with his family which he shares with his friends at Epi-Land. While folks might still not agree with how he chooses to tell his tales, he is quite a bit more comfortable with himself. His tales are truly his to tell. to all who have befriended the Shmoo over the past year, to all who have stood by him while he has made mistakes, to all who have trusted him despite his poor judgment, to all who have accepted an apology when it has come and who have ignored one that is probably still due, to all who have been amused by his ponderings, to all who have cheered him on or left a comment or made him smile, to all who have ever agreed with him or disagreed with him (depending on what he needed and when he needed it), I say thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you for entering my world and letting me amuse you. Thank you for inviting me in to yours. It's been a fun year, let's have another. Please be prepared for stories about a Shmoo named Jaxon.  |
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