Magnificent The Wonderfish

Among those soggy bits of paper (see previous post) I found a story. Back in that first tech. support job, we had email for the first time (it was a novelty back at the end of the 1980s for us Brits, I know Americans have had it since the 16th century). Our department soon used email for passing around wacky stories composed piecemeal by each person adding a few lines to the end and passing it on to someone else. One one occasion I got bored and knocked up a spontaneously written epic about Magnificent The Wonderfish which was printed out on some random printer in the building. It got found, passed around and so, due to popular demand of one, I wrote another one. Soon there was four such silly stories and people feared to approach me. 20 years later, here is that first story, now in glorious technicolour (the colours black and white). Note also the period details, such as references to British Railways.

Magnificent The Wonderfish Fights The Early Morning Blues

Twas Flopday and all was groovy. The trees were rising over the horizon and bricks were wafting in the early morning thermals. A steaming kipper was sunbathing in the shadow of a large but friendly rock. This piscian creature was no cats' dinner however, for this was Magnificent the Wonderfish, the fish who single fin-didly saved the universe three times before breakfast.

Magnificent opened one beady eye and announced to no-one in particular "I hate mornings!"

"I wholeheartedly agree" oozed a passing BR pork-pie (ex-stock 1978). "There's nothing worse then having to face lots of bleary-eyed commuters on the 6:23 from Wigan every morning".

Magnificent pondered this for a while and decided to do something about mornings. "They must be terminated!" he cried to a now sizable audience of agreeable egg-whisks.

"Yes! Yes!" they chanted, whisking like mad and enjoying the fact that they had a speaking part in paragraph five.

Magnificent waved his magic wooden spoon, shouted "Oregano!" and cooked a lentil surprise with juicy mushrooms to give him much needed energy for his new quest. "Burp" he concluded and had a quick nap.

Upon waking from a nice dream about amoebas Magnificent gave a fishy grin and flew east which seemed to be the direction from which mornings came. On and on he flew. On and on and on. On and on and on and on. In fact he flew quite a long way until finally he came to a very bulbous cloud with a silver lining. A wooden sign announced "Big Bouncy Beer Bar" so Magnificent headed towards the sound of merry-making and wassailing.

He entered the bar which was situated in a large green podule on top of the cloud. Carving a way through the thick smoke and language within he headed for the counter with a shout of "A pint of Whumph and a bag of Wiggets please!". Beverage supplied he eyed the inhabitants of the hovel. Several flowerpots were playing un-pool (only equipment you need is a heavy cue and a good aim) while a pack of sticky labels pontificated from a table about life, the universe and the 6:23 from Wigan. In a strangely rounded corner sat several shredded wheats who were burbling and arranging themselves in threes.

Magnificent suddenly had a brain-wave. After vigorously toweling himself down he realised that it must be the shredded wheats who were behind mornings. "In order to make people eat boring gray breakfasts, there must be a morning in which such horrors pale beside the effort of getting out of bed!" he said with a swish of his shiny tale.

He swiftly launched an attack. "Garam Masala!" he yelled and dived at the evil shreddies. A few seconds of fishy superpower was all that was needed. Magnificent stood surrounded by crumbs and a free plastic toy (collect the entire set!), "Hurrah!" cried the nearby soap-on-a-rope, "You've saved us from a lifetime of morning misery".

"Ah shucks!" muttered Magnificent and headed home just in time to see the dawning of a new afternoon.

The bricks made no comment.