This website has been up for weeks now, and no one really knows this Star character, so I take it upon myself to fill the general public in on who Star really is. To do this, I shall share with you some of the memories I have of Star.
Star is a hero, world renowned. I have had the pleasure of joining Star in his world travels. I recall one night, in Paris, Star and I were approached by a large contingent of circus folk. They were in great distress, as their lion tamer had been missing for some time, and they were due to perform in less than an hour. So Star and I set out to find the lost lion tamer and save the circus.
Star, the genius sleuth that he is, began questioning the carnies. It turned out one of the elephants had last seen the lion tamer in a bar on the west side. The west side of Paris is rough territory, ruled by a gang of cat-people, the toughest of the tough. Star had no fear, though, as he led us deep into the cat-people’s turf to the bar where the lion tamer had last been seen. The Scratching Post, it was called. The muscle at the door didn’t want to let me in, but a quick, “He’s with me,” from Star put the man at ease.
The bar was a dirty hole in the wall, and certainly Star was a diamond in the rough. I went to relieve my aching bladder while Star went to interrogate the bartender. When I returned, Star informed me that the lion tamer had been waylaid just outside the bar by a troupe of thespians from the outer reaches of the known universe. We were soon in hot pursuit.
The red car we’ve all heard so much about ate up the many light-years between us and the lion tamer in mere seconds. We soon caught up to the thespians’ ship, which resembled a microphone. Their ship turned as we approached, putting it’s lasers in line with the Star-mobile. I was scared. I began yelling about the injustice of my premature death and the bland taste of cafeteria food. Star was a rock. He never lost his composure.
As the microphone fired its lasers, Star pulled his rear-view mirror out of
the glove compartment and hurled it at the microphone. The mirror intercepted
the lasers and deflected them wide of the Star-mobile. Star then engaged his
tractor beam, and we soon boarded the inferior vessel.
The thespians handed over the lion tamer immediately. There were quite apologetic when they saw Star in all his glory. Distastefully apologetic, I must say, for they were making me feel bad, too. But that was all part of their plan. As soon as they saw my resolve weaken, the stagehands, who had blended in perfectly with the walls of the ship, attacked. I blacked out almost immediately out of sheer terror.
When I came to, Star and I were nearly back to Paris, with the lion tamer squeezed into the back seat of the Star-mobile. I asked Star what had happened, but he shrugged me off, so I asked the lion tamer. The lion tamer spoke reverently of the incident. He told me, quite frankly, that Star had charmed the thespians and their sneaky stagehands to death. I could see that Star felt bad about it, but it really wasn’t his fault. Not many can withstand his charm.
We delivered the lion tamer to the circus with half an hour to spare. That night, Star played one of his infamous songs to the crowd in the circus tent. The applause was so loud that I couldn’t hear for nearly a week. The world was at peace.
Floop The Wise
Ed. Note: Floop is currently founding a growing religion which I would
consider myself a member, if he would just tell me what to believe.
Any questions or comments,