Thursday, January 01, 2009

Le Red Fin: Not a Skunk

When the delicate fragrance of melancholy silken in the night air, I come to you- oh, mon dieu, it's you.

Where is that Shark Puppet? Gone? Oh good.

Oui, you are alone in the dark, I know. Hush now, all will be well. I'll take care of you. First, you need a new haircut. This straggly dog look, no wonder the seas part for you! And no more pizza, oui, you carry enough baggage already. And oh, little bird, stop listening to Shark Puppet. Shark Puppet has no taste. What can you expect of a crass selachimorphan brute? Shark Puppet has no style. Shark Puppet can only lead you astray.

You see? Your blargh is neglected. Your email is neglected. Your kitchen sink is neglected. Oh, mon dieu. Sacré bleu. The shark, the shark.

You must listen to me, mon amie.

I am Le Red Fin. I will save you from Shark Puppet.

Now give us a kiss.



...stop looking at me like that.

4 comments:

  1. He's full of Gaulish confidence, isn't he? The Pepé Le Pew of the sea. Go on then, give him a kiss!

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  2. He worries me. He would worry me less if he were sushi.

    You need a penguin to whisper you dreams of armies.

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  3. You just gave me an idea for a picture. :-)

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  4. Me and Red Fin (It's -LE- Red Fin!), we're not that sort of item. He's an opinionated jerk, and I ignore him. Heh.

    He isn't that worrying though.

    Yay! Picture!

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