The two winning monkeys are headed to the Caribbean! They will first board a plane in Nevada, which will take them to their dock in Mexico.
¡Los dos changos ganadores van al Caribe! Primero, irán en un avión en Nevada, que los llevará a Mexico, donde espera su barco.
I think they live pretty far away from Mexico considering how long this flight took.
Pienso que viven muy lejos de México considerando que largo tomo el vuelo.
Well, here it is:
Bueno, aquí está:
Flight Attendant: Hi… Um- Welcome to the plane!
Atendente del Vuelo(¿?): Hola… er- ¡Bienvenidos al avión!
Dr. SquiggleEyes: I call this seat! (giggles)
Dr. SquiggleEyes: ¡Esté asiento es mío! (ríe)
Tiny Hippo: I’m flying alone… it’s spooky.
Hipopótamo Pequeñito: Estoy volando solo…. me da miedo.
Flight Attendant: I’ll help you.
Atendente del Vuelo: Te ayudaré.
Dr. SquiggleEyes: Hmmmm….
Dr. SquiggleEyes: Is this a staring contest?
Dr. SuiggleEyes: ¿Es este un concurso de mirar?
Ristleton: Eh…… no.
Dr. SquiggleEyes: Aw…
Let’s watch TV!
¡Miramos la tele!
Ristleton: Can you push Free WiFi, please?
Ristleton: ¿Puedes empujar el WiFi gratis, por favor?
Dr. SquiggleEyes: I’m going to watch cartoons.
Dr. SquiggleEyes: Voy a mirar dibujos animados.
Ristleton: (sigh) Ugh…
Ristleton: (suspiro) Ugh….
Dr. SquiggleEyes: Heh heh heh!
Dr. SquiggleEyes: ¡Je, je, je!
Next Time: “CARTOONS ON THE PLANE”
And now…. The Vision Stones part three!!!!!!!!!!
When it reconstructed itself, Ristle only had faint recollections of what had happened while it was in pieces. People had told him how his parents had decided to go on an adventure date, slipped into a cave while climbing a cliff near the sea, and how there had been a cave in, while they where inside the cave. Their bodies were probably trapped under the cliff. How romantic.
But that was not what Ristle was worried about; or sad about. He was sad and worried and alone because, when the world reconstructed itself, he was completely alone, on a tiny island, in a sea of sadness.
His insides had been completely wrenched out by that iron hand, and a stringy, lurking, missing, empty space remained. He only felt the pain. His stomach hurt. He wanted to hear his parents again. He hoped that he would hear them approaching, and see their laughing faces as they shouted, “April Fools!”
But they wouldn’t. They were gone. Something had just… grabbed them away. And never, never, never ever again, would he smell hot breafminner bacon cooking, never would he walk to school with his father laughing beside him. And never, never ever would his parents return. They were gone. Gone, as though a gust of wind had swept them away.
These thoughts swirled inside Ristle. He was angry, mad at them for leaving him. But he was sad. And he was mad at himself for feeling like this.
The first thing he did when he got home was go into the bathroom and vomit. He vomited up all the cake he’d eaten at the meadow, and it didn’t taste as good as when it had gone down.
Strange people were in his house. They wandered about, talking amongst themselves, sobbing, weeping, or helping themselves to the jerky and crackers in the cupboards. They must have been his parents friends. But they stayed away from him and his bedroom. He liked that, if liking something was even possible for him at that moment.
He kept the room dark. He curled up, under his blankets, and lay there, crying his eyes out, hardly able to breathe.
And then he remembered that awful feeling he sometimes got, when he felt like there was a ghost in the house, or else some stupid person trying to break in. he always reminded himself, at these moments, that his parents were in the house, and that that meant that he was safe.
But now, now there were only these strange people in the house. Was he safe? Would he ever be safe again?
“Mama….,” he whispered into the darkness. “Daddy?”
Wow, he thought. How stupid am I? They’re dead. They’re gone.
And he hugged himself and cried until he fell asleep.
When Ristle woke up, he didn’t want to be awake. He didn’t know what he wanted. All this sorrow made him feel bored. He was numb, and he wanted to feel again. But it wasn’t boredom. Because when you are bored, you can sometimes distract yourself. This kind of sorrow, you can’t distract yourself at all. But you can try.
When Ristle got up, and left into the kitchen, through the living room, there were only two people sitting there: an ancient man, with loose skin scattered with liver spots, and a tiny woman, with dark skin and hair tied back behind her in a ponytail. Neither of them acknowledged Ristle.
In the kitchen, Ristle got down jerky, a plum, and some hard, black bread. He plucked a banana leaf from the tree next to the sink, and sat down at the counter. He tried to eat the bread. But his throat clenched up on it, and an awfully warm, disgusting, full, feeling crept up his stomach. he set the bread down. He picked up the small, nearly round, very red plum. He took a small bite of the bitter peel and tried to force it down into his stomach. His throat itched. So he left the food lying on the marble counter, and retreated into his bedroom.
After twenty minutes of sitting in the depressed darkness, he left into the bathroom and vomited water. Then he sat on his bed, shaking.
He turned on the radio, and tried to embed himself in the music that trailed softly out. he hugged himself and rocked back and forth, hoping to become trapped in the endless tune that came from the tiny box.
There was a knock on the door, and ristle quickly shut of the radio. The knock came again, now very soft.
“Go away!” Ristle shouted, now feeling angry. “Go away and leave me ALONE!!!”
But the door opened nonetheless. A small girl stepped in. She wore a simple, pink blouse and a blue skirt, along with blue slippers on her tiny feet. She had raggedy, brown hair, and a headband pulling it back.
The newcomer was tiny and petite, but seemed to radiate power, or else some unknown knowledge. Ristle’d always thought that people who spoke of vibes were absolutely insane, but here he was, feeling the vibes of a delicate looking, yet seemingly rough and tumble little girl.
“Ristle,” she said softly. “Ristle, come with me. We need your help.”
“NO!” screamed Ristle, severed from his strange trance. “No, I’m NOT going with you on some lunatic COUNSELING offer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“No, Ristle,” How dare she stay calm while I suffer this grief? “Your parents. They’re alive.”
Ristle turned around. He shook his head, but she nodded, extending her hand. And they left in silence, past the strange people and out into the street.
Wow, long post!
Bonus: How I am currently wasting my life:
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Also, don’t just stay on the “Inicio” page; look around at all my other pages! Find out more about the sock monkeys and critters, my cartoons, and some really awesome links!!!!!