Mistigris Entry for Blender 35
And the words are....
vegans / sacrifice / legoland
MY HOME!
NOOOO!
Just one of countless civilian
tragedies in the Vegan/Veggie
war.
We had just heard the first signs of the conflict when we were
told to move out. I looked to my right and saw my friend, Bob, crouched
in the trench. Sweat was dribbling down his face, his orange skin
reflecting the sun through the smokey haze of the battlefield.
Up and over! our Captain cried, and we all launched over the
top of the trench in unison clutching our weapons with both hands. We
were running at full tilt as soon as we got over the heaped stacks of
charred plastic bricks. This was no-mans land, and you could tell that
it was true because no man could seem to survive in this virtual hell.
Shells exploded above us, and one of the Privates hoisted our
division flag as we ran, the large letters declaring Carrot Brigade 3
with the motto underneath Death Before Salad!
It gave me a second wind, looking at that flag. Seeing my
comrades charging across the battlefield with me, I felt a strange sort
of ferocity. And then I saw our enemies.
Standing high on a stack of Duplos, a man with long red hair
with a tie-dyed purple shirt signifying him a General! with freshly
cut vegetable scalps hanging from his hemp belt screamed the vegan
battle cry: End Animal Cruelty!
It was at that point that I felt a tremor of fear bounch around
inside me, and I knew that I might not be a carrot when this day ended.
hippie infantry units ambush potato camps on versaille.
more weak lego.
It was seriously hot in that trench, dude, and the smell of all of
our bodies sickened some of us - reminding us of the smell you might find
in a slaughterhouse, of all the animals lined up for the kill. Which is
what we pretty much were.
Kinda funny how we were charging into battle to face almost
certain death defending our humane ideals to end animal suffering. Why
couldnt these pinko plants see things our way?
But no, they couldnt go easily. These hastily-erected lego
trenches protected both sides, but they were settled in in ways we could
never hope - roots anchoring them to their maternal soil. Here we were,
fighting for our right to eat, and they were getting sustaining
nourishment just by standing still. War is crazy.
I could hear the folky guitar chords coming from the next trench
over and visualized the entire regiment climbing out of the trenches,
holding hands and chanting. The squad leaders would be armed with a fork,
spoon, and soya-based salad dressing, but most of us, like myself, had
nothing more than a pouch full of incendiary hacky-sacks.
I closed my eyes and joined the group hug in the trench as we
tried to imagine that peace would be declared and we would all be at a
salad bar by Christmas.
A carrot on the front lines,
fleeing in terror at the
sound of the terrifying Vegan
Battle Call.. LUNCHTIME!
Jimmy was the first to go down. He took mortar shrapnel in the
back the last time I saw him he had half a dozen potato-peelers lodged
in the back of his head. Those bastards! Peeler mortars were
specifically on the banned list of vegawarfare devices! I gritted my
teeth as we charged on.
And then it happened we were outflanked! Ranks of crazed
hippies in tie-dye shirts and peace necklaces rose up around us!
Captain said for us to hit the legos, and we did. The little nubs dug
into my chest and started to take chunks out. It hurt, but not nearly
so bad as when one of the enemies charged up to me and sunk his salad
fork into my leg. I turned and hit him on the side of the head with my
rifle butt he grabbed his ear in pain as blood gushed out of it. The
salad fork was still lodged right below my kneecap, and I called for a
medic. Then they opened up on us with the potato gun.
Two of the enemy stood there on a hillock of green legos and
started launching dead baby potatoes at us. Although their means were
primitive, the large plastic cylindir the used for a gun was effective
in delivering their payload at maximum speed. How dare they desecrate
the bodies of our own!
The medic crawled over to where I was and began to spray topical
Miracle Grow on my leg. Although it didnt work very well for regrowth,
it killed the pain. He looked at me through his glasses and told me
everything was going to be alright I wish I could have believed him.
death of a carrot at the hands of the vegan wolf pack.
live goddamn you!!
It was a steady effort just to keep chewing but this was one of
the primary directives given us in basic training: if you dont eat the
enemy, hell grow back, and besides, the extra energy would do us good.
Bummer. At the time, I dont think Command Cental knew that theyd be
sending us the elite Giant Zucchini unit against us. I still dont know
how I managed to defeat this one, a straggler from his unit. He must
have had stem rot or something, to act so irrationally, and besides, the
flavour seemed to correlate my observation.
I was almost through his thick flesh now, nothing but seeds and
shell left. Remembering proper technique, I gathered the seeds and,
careful not to drop any on the ground, placed them on a small pile of
tinder which I lit with a stick on incense.
The smell was nauseating so I plugged my nose and held my breath
as I methodically smashed the shell to bits. The mouldy zucchini
fermenting in my belly made me mondo queasy anyway and I had to lie down.
Big mistake.
I woke up beneath the moon with a circle of deadly Nightshade
commandos Potatoes and Tomatos discussing what do to with me. Theyd
tied me down with vines and creepers and I hoped that wasnt a trace of
dried zucchini I felt on my face.
After the doc talked to me, a potato bomb exploded beside us,
and the next thing I knew I woke up in a field hospital.
An eggplant nurse leaned over me eggplant werent allowed on
the front lines - it was felt they couldnt handle the rigors of combat
without going all mushy and tended to my wounds. I looked down in
horror and saw a spindly stalk where my left arm once was. She put
fress peat moss on it, and said that I would be alright. The doc had
told me that, too.
After a week in the hospital I was almost stabilized my arm was
almost half regrown, and all of the lacerations had healed up nicely. I
was feeling pretty well when I heard news from the front line: we had
taken Veggieburger hill! Everyone was excited until they brought in a
new causulty: a tomato from the front was strapped down to a stretcher,
with red juice all over the place. He was screaming random threats at
everyone he passed, and finally he broke down, crying and drawing deep
breaths while the life almost bubbled out of him.
Why cant we just.. he sobbed, why cant we just give peas a
chance?
At that point my resolve to see the end of this war was
concrete.
I dont know where I am or who I am, dude. Ive been here for, man,
I dont know. I really, really dont know. A day? A week? A month? All I
konw is that I was wrong. Ive been wrong all along. We were meant to eat
meat, man. Weve got incisor teeth. Those are made for cutting muscle.
They talked to me. I was tied to the chair but the broccoli were
very kind. They gave me shots to improve my strength and showed me films.
Now I realize the error of my ways. They nourished me back to health with a
steady diet of roast beef. At first I was like, no way, but they told me it
was made of tofu. After the first few meals I was hungry enough not to care.
The fighting has got to stop. Everyone realizes that, especially
us grunts down in the front lines tangling with the onions and the
cucumbers. What we never realized is that theyre just defending themselves
and their way of life - theyve got a right to live too, man. I mean,
plants have feelings to! They even have a national anthem.
We cant win, thats clear. Even if we fry them all up and eat
them, therell be more. Theyll grow in the dirt were buried in. Theyve
owned the Earth longer than weve been here, before the monkies, before the
insects even. We cant even live without plants, giving us the air we
breathe. Fighting them makes no sense, if we wipe them out well all die as
well. So I have to get our side to stop. Theyre sending me in, to show
them the error of their ways.
So, tell me, soldier, what was it like behind the lines? I mean
down, deep in their garden of hell?
This was General Veganheim himself - five stars painted on his hands
in henna dye and a golden hackey sack on each shoulder. I was sitting in his
office with guards outside the door but he was in here alone! Just me and
him... or so he thought.
It was bad, sir. I mean, it was terrible. They abused me in ways
I cant describe, but somehow I managed to escape. Thank heavens for basic
training. They had me guarded by gourds, and that was their first mistake.
I think I found out why they call em squash.
The General rocked back in his ergonomically-correct knee-chair and
laughed until he started wheezing. You know, youll be decorated for this.
Did you manage to... subvert any supplies?
This is what wed been hoping for. The rumours of the Generals
embezelling habit, unheard of on the front lines, were true. Theyd prepared
me for this. Sir, I didnt manage to get anything... but this. His eyes
went from downcast to ravenous as I took the small innocent-looking turnip
from my pocket and handed it to him. With a wink he tossed it up in the air
and swallowed it whole, without even chewing. That was lucky.
general veganheim likes da turnip.
goodbye legoland.
weakest attempt at
lego ever.
He leaned back and took a deep breath. Suddenly, he got a disgusted
expression on his face. Soldier... I can smell beef fat oozing out of your
pores! Have you been eating roast beef? Explain your -- urk!
The assassin was at work - the little turnip who could was also a
highly trained killer - no garden variety thug, who was strangling the
General in his chair, sacrificing himself to destroy the leader of the Vegan
forces. As the general clutched at his throat I took his juggling sticks
from beside his chair and clobbered him on the head with them. He sank to the
floor and after a few minutes his face turned purple.
The turnip rolled out of his mouth and took out a small walkie talkie.
The rutabaga has landed, Cabbage Patch.
With the general defeated, the chain of command would unravel and our
Vegan troops, demoralized and without direction, would stoop to drinking milk
and eating cheese. Once that happened, the army would nevre be able to re-form
again. Victory was ours! Now we were free to face the army on the other front
of the Victorious Vegetarians.
But first I swallowed a small pill. If I was found they could not
question me, because the pill delivered a lethal payload to my brain. I was
still alive, but theyd never get any information out of me because in a
final act of trechery, I would become a vegetable myself!
I helped the turnip roll on to the window sill and from there into a
dumpster below as my final act and sat still in the corner, drooling, as my
sight faded. This is a glorious war.
This has been the official Mistigris entry to Blender 35 - vegans, legoland
and sacrifice. Pictures by Happyfish and Tincat. Story by Cthulu and Skrubly.
Soundtrack from Darkest of the Hillside Thickets.
Mistigris 1997 - we eat our sprouts!
And the words are....
vegans / sacrifice / legoland
MY HOME!
NOOOO!
Just one of countless civilian
tragedies in the Vegan/Veggie
war.
We had just heard the first signs of the conflict when we were
told to move out. I looked to my right and saw my friend, Bob, crouched
in the trench. Sweat was dribbling down his face, his orange skin
reflecting the sun through the smokey haze of the battlefield.
Up and over! our Captain cried, and we all launched over the
top of the trench in unison clutching our weapons with both hands. We
were running at full tilt as soon as we got over the heaped stacks of
charred plastic bricks. This was no-mans land, and you could tell that
it was true because no man could seem to survive in this virtual hell.
Shells exploded above us, and one of the Privates hoisted our
division flag as we ran, the large letters declaring Carrot Brigade 3
with the motto underneath Death Before Salad!
It gave me a second wind, looking at that flag. Seeing my
comrades charging across the battlefield with me, I felt a strange sort
of ferocity. And then I saw our enemies.
Standing high on a stack of Duplos, a man with long red hair
with a tie-dyed purple shirt signifying him a General! with freshly
cut vegetable scalps hanging from his hemp belt screamed the vegan
battle cry: End Animal Cruelty!
It was at that point that I felt a tremor of fear bounch around
inside me, and I knew that I might not be a carrot when this day ended.
hippie infantry units ambush potato camps on versaille.
more weak lego.
It was seriously hot in that trench, dude, and the smell of all of
our bodies sickened some of us - reminding us of the smell you might find
in a slaughterhouse, of all the animals lined up for the kill. Which is
what we pretty much were.
Kinda funny how we were charging into battle to face almost
certain death defending our humane ideals to end animal suffering. Why
couldnt these pinko plants see things our way?
But no, they couldnt go easily. These hastily-erected lego
trenches protected both sides, but they were settled in in ways we could
never hope - roots anchoring them to their maternal soil. Here we were,
fighting for our right to eat, and they were getting sustaining
nourishment just by standing still. War is crazy.
I could hear the folky guitar chords coming from the next trench
over and visualized the entire regiment climbing out of the trenches,
holding hands and chanting. The squad leaders would be armed with a fork,
spoon, and soya-based salad dressing, but most of us, like myself, had
nothing more than a pouch full of incendiary hacky-sacks.
I closed my eyes and joined the group hug in the trench as we
tried to imagine that peace would be declared and we would all be at a
salad bar by Christmas.
A carrot on the front lines,
fleeing in terror at the
sound of the terrifying Vegan
Battle Call.. LUNCHTIME!
Jimmy was the first to go down. He took mortar shrapnel in the
back the last time I saw him he had half a dozen potato-peelers lodged
in the back of his head. Those bastards! Peeler mortars were
specifically on the banned list of vegawarfare devices! I gritted my
teeth as we charged on.
And then it happened we were outflanked! Ranks of crazed
hippies in tie-dye shirts and peace necklaces rose up around us!
Captain said for us to hit the legos, and we did. The little nubs dug
into my chest and started to take chunks out. It hurt, but not nearly
so bad as when one of the enemies charged up to me and sunk his salad
fork into my leg. I turned and hit him on the side of the head with my
rifle butt he grabbed his ear in pain as blood gushed out of it. The
salad fork was still lodged right below my kneecap, and I called for a
medic. Then they opened up on us with the potato gun.
Two of the enemy stood there on a hillock of green legos and
started launching dead baby potatoes at us. Although their means were
primitive, the large plastic cylindir the used for a gun was effective
in delivering their payload at maximum speed. How dare they desecrate
the bodies of our own!
The medic crawled over to where I was and began to spray topical
Miracle Grow on my leg. Although it didnt work very well for regrowth,
it killed the pain. He looked at me through his glasses and told me
everything was going to be alright I wish I could have believed him.
death of a carrot at the hands of the vegan wolf pack.
live goddamn you!!
It was a steady effort just to keep chewing but this was one of
the primary directives given us in basic training: if you dont eat the
enemy, hell grow back, and besides, the extra energy would do us good.
Bummer. At the time, I dont think Command Cental knew that theyd be
sending us the elite Giant Zucchini unit against us. I still dont know
how I managed to defeat this one, a straggler from his unit. He must
have had stem rot or something, to act so irrationally, and besides, the
flavour seemed to correlate my observation.
I was almost through his thick flesh now, nothing but seeds and
shell left. Remembering proper technique, I gathered the seeds and,
careful not to drop any on the ground, placed them on a small pile of
tinder which I lit with a stick on incense.
The smell was nauseating so I plugged my nose and held my breath
as I methodically smashed the shell to bits. The mouldy zucchini
fermenting in my belly made me mondo queasy anyway and I had to lie down.
Big mistake.
I woke up beneath the moon with a circle of deadly Nightshade
commandos Potatoes and Tomatos discussing what do to with me. Theyd
tied me down with vines and creepers and I hoped that wasnt a trace of
dried zucchini I felt on my face.
After the doc talked to me, a potato bomb exploded beside us,
and the next thing I knew I woke up in a field hospital.
An eggplant nurse leaned over me eggplant werent allowed on
the front lines - it was felt they couldnt handle the rigors of combat
without going all mushy and tended to my wounds. I looked down in
horror and saw a spindly stalk where my left arm once was. She put
fress peat moss on it, and said that I would be alright. The doc had
told me that, too.
After a week in the hospital I was almost stabilized my arm was
almost half regrown, and all of the lacerations had healed up nicely. I
was feeling pretty well when I heard news from the front line: we had
taken Veggieburger hill! Everyone was excited until they brought in a
new causulty: a tomato from the front was strapped down to a stretcher,
with red juice all over the place. He was screaming random threats at
everyone he passed, and finally he broke down, crying and drawing deep
breaths while the life almost bubbled out of him.
Why cant we just.. he sobbed, why cant we just give peas a
chance?
At that point my resolve to see the end of this war was
concrete.
I dont know where I am or who I am, dude. Ive been here for, man,
I dont know. I really, really dont know. A day? A week? A month? All I
konw is that I was wrong. Ive been wrong all along. We were meant to eat
meat, man. Weve got incisor teeth. Those are made for cutting muscle.
They talked to me. I was tied to the chair but the broccoli were
very kind. They gave me shots to improve my strength and showed me films.
Now I realize the error of my ways. They nourished me back to health with a
steady diet of roast beef. At first I was like, no way, but they told me it
was made of tofu. After the first few meals I was hungry enough not to care.
The fighting has got to stop. Everyone realizes that, especially
us grunts down in the front lines tangling with the onions and the
cucumbers. What we never realized is that theyre just defending themselves
and their way of life - theyve got a right to live too, man. I mean,
plants have feelings to! They even have a national anthem.
We cant win, thats clear. Even if we fry them all up and eat
them, therell be more. Theyll grow in the dirt were buried in. Theyve
owned the Earth longer than weve been here, before the monkies, before the
insects even. We cant even live without plants, giving us the air we
breathe. Fighting them makes no sense, if we wipe them out well all die as
well. So I have to get our side to stop. Theyre sending me in, to show
them the error of their ways.
So, tell me, soldier, what was it like behind the lines? I mean
down, deep in their garden of hell?
This was General Veganheim himself - five stars painted on his hands
in henna dye and a golden hackey sack on each shoulder. I was sitting in his
office with guards outside the door but he was in here alone! Just me and
him... or so he thought.
It was bad, sir. I mean, it was terrible. They abused me in ways
I cant describe, but somehow I managed to escape. Thank heavens for basic
training. They had me guarded by gourds, and that was their first mistake.
I think I found out why they call em squash.
The General rocked back in his ergonomically-correct knee-chair and
laughed until he started wheezing. You know, youll be decorated for this.
Did you manage to... subvert any supplies?
This is what wed been hoping for. The rumours of the Generals
embezelling habit, unheard of on the front lines, were true. Theyd prepared
me for this. Sir, I didnt manage to get anything... but this. His eyes
went from downcast to ravenous as I took the small innocent-looking turnip
from my pocket and handed it to him. With a wink he tossed it up in the air
and swallowed it whole, without even chewing. That was lucky.
general veganheim likes da turnip.
goodbye legoland.
weakest attempt at
lego ever.
He leaned back and took a deep breath. Suddenly, he got a disgusted
expression on his face. Soldier... I can smell beef fat oozing out of your
pores! Have you been eating roast beef? Explain your -- urk!
The assassin was at work - the little turnip who could was also a
highly trained killer - no garden variety thug, who was strangling the
General in his chair, sacrificing himself to destroy the leader of the Vegan
forces. As the general clutched at his throat I took his juggling sticks
from beside his chair and clobbered him on the head with them. He sank to the
floor and after a few minutes his face turned purple.
The turnip rolled out of his mouth and took out a small walkie talkie.
The rutabaga has landed, Cabbage Patch.
With the general defeated, the chain of command would unravel and our
Vegan troops, demoralized and without direction, would stoop to drinking milk
and eating cheese. Once that happened, the army would nevre be able to re-form
again. Victory was ours! Now we were free to face the army on the other front
of the Victorious Vegetarians.
But first I swallowed a small pill. If I was found they could not
question me, because the pill delivered a lethal payload to my brain. I was
still alive, but theyd never get any information out of me because in a
final act of trechery, I would become a vegetable myself!
I helped the turnip roll on to the window sill and from there into a
dumpster below as my final act and sat still in the corner, drooling, as my
sight faded. This is a glorious war.
This has been the official Mistigris entry to Blender 35 - vegans, legoland
and sacrifice. Pictures by Happyfish and Tincat. Story by Cthulu and Skrubly.
Soundtrack from Darkest of the Hillside Thickets.
Mistigris 1997 - we eat our sprouts!
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