Welcome back, readers!

Dr. Typhon Garlic and his sister Alecia went on a shopping trip today. On second thought, let me rephrase that. Alecia dragged Dr. Garlic along on her shopping trip, and he ran into some troubles. Surprise, surprise. Who would have guessed that Mr. Trouble Magnet would have run into troubles? 😉

Apparently, even the trouble magnet himself would have! Typhon’s journal entry:

15.05.13

I can hardly believe it, but I think I have a new worst experience at the mall. The mall at Town was pretty bad, but this was worse. Then it was just mild embarrassment in front of my friends and one stranger, while today… today it was public humiliation!

Let me tell you: it was very, very bad. I’d better relate the whole story from the start. Once upon a time, there was a little baby named Typhon Garlic. His father read him the book It’s not the Years, It’s the Mileage, or, The Adventures of Young Johnny Thunder, and that’s when young Typhon first thought “Wow! wouldn’t it be great to be a world-famous adventurer?”

Only ten years later, he and his younger brother Winstrom Garlic embarked on a dangerous expedition into a nearby cave, hoping to find treasure. They didn’t, of course, and Winstrom ended up with a bloody nose, but it sure was fun. That day Typhon decided that he must devote his entire life to adventuring!

Fast forward to early this morning, over fourteen years later. Typhon Garlic now has a Ph. D. in theoretical physics, and in fact he is writing the very words you are now reading. That’s right, and in case Peter didn’t mention this before posting my journal entry on his blog, I am Dr. Typhon Garlic.

My sister Alecia forced me to take her to the mall, supposedly to replace the bags of clothing that got lost when she flew to Egypt. I think she probably just wanted to shop.

Anyway, once we entered, we decided to meet back at the mall’s entrance at 2:00PM. Not being one to sit on the bench for five hours, I decided to take a look around the place.

At one point, this guy in a chicken suit accosted me (or should I say “waved me down”?) and said, “Hey, dude! You look like you could benefit from some of our gnarly products. Why not step in and take a look?”

“Really? I am kind of hungry. What sort of food do you sell here?” I asked him.

“Oh, we don’t offer food, we just have coffee,” he replied.

“You mean you don’t serve fried chicken here?”

“Nope, just coffee.”

“What about chicken soup, or chicken-fried steak, maybe?”

“Uh, no, we don’t serve any poultry products here, sir.” He was getting annoyed.

“Then why on earth are you wearing a chicken suit when chicken has nothing to do with your establishment?”

He looked like he was about to just say “because the manager said so, of course,” but decided to actually think about it instead. His brow furrowed for a moment. “Gee, I can’t think of a very good reason.” Then he brightened up. “Hey, maybe you’d like to try it on?” Confused at how his logic had led him to ask that, I didn’t say anything in reply. “Well,” he announced, “I’ll take that as a yes!”

He unzipped his suit, and climbed out of it. Fortunately he was wearing other clothes under the thing. Almost before I’d realized what was happening, I was wearing the ridiculous thing. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“You’re welcome! You won’t regret it, dude!” He started to run off.

Suddenly a person (who I later learned was the manager of Coughy’s Cafe) walked out of the store. “Wally, what do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’m quitting this lousy job! I got a replacement for you, so I’m off the hook.”

“Whatever.” She turned to me. “Well, new guy, all you have to do is stand there and get us more customers.”

“What?! I didn’t sign up for this!” I was beginning to panic.

“Well, too bad. Unless you find someone else to do your job for you, you’ll be wearing that chicken suit for the rest of your days, kid!” She chained my leg to the cafe’s door.

“No! Why me?!” I screamed. At this rate, I would never make it back in time to meet up with Alecia. “Help, somebody!”

But anyone who passed by either ignored me, or told me to quiet down. I screamed for about half an hour, but nothing happened, and I resigned myself to being a crazy guy in a chicken suit. However, I suddenly spied two policemen walking up to the store. “Help me, please!” I yelled.

But they weren’t there to help me. They were there to shut down Coughy’s Cafe for selling, well, poisonous coffee. I guess there was something harmful in their brew. Anyway, the police were able to take the chain off in time for me to rendezvous with Alecia. She didn’t even suspect anything strange had happened.

And that’s it for today! Now I just have to wash the rest of these pesky feathers out of my hair.

Wow. All I can say is, “Boy, am I glad I ain’t him!” (That’s really all one can say in reference to times like these!) Yes, Typhon was in a mess of trouble today, but the important thing is that’s he’s still alive, or he was when he sent me all this. 😛

Any suggestions on how Typhon could best rid himself of those nasty feathers? Leave your comments below, and I’ll see ya next post!