The Wuddlepuffs
        by Colin Back on the Ghost Roads  (colinneilson@Writing.Com)
The Wuddlepuffs


         "Shut up shut up shut up!" Frank muttered these commands as he walked along, hoping no one would think he was talking to himself.

         A chirping, high pitched chorus erupted in his ears. "Are you happy?"

         "Yes, I'm happy. Now go away!"

         "You don't sound happy! You sound angry!"

         "I wouldn't be angry so much if you would just leave me alone."

         "We can't leave until you're happy!"

         These kinds of conversations had been going on for the past three months, ever since the Wuddlepuffs had come to visit Frank. He had never seen the Wuddlepuffs, only heard them. They were invisible, or so they said. He could feel them. Every so often, it felt like a thousand centipedes were crawling over his shoulders and back, or like a small kitten had just jumped on his head. He had tried to find out what they looked like once. Never again.

         "What do you look like?" he had asked.

         "We look like Wuddlepuffs silly!" answered Bubblywuggs. She was apparently the only female among this group of Wuddlepuffs. She could be identified because her voice was a bit higher pitched than the rest.

         "Well, what do Wuddlepuffs look like?"

         "Why just like us!" replied Wigglypoof. Frank identified Wigglypoof as the 'Butch' wuddlepuff. His voice was a bit lower pitched than the rest.

         Getting nowhere with this tactic, Frank tried something different. "If I were a Wuddlepuff, what would I look like?"

         "Just like us!" Called out Poddlywoddle. He was sort of midway between Wigglypoof and Bubblywuggs.

         "But what would I see if I looked at myself in a mirror if I were a Wuddlepuff?"

         "Not much, I would think. We're invisible you know." That was Zeke. He was a bit of an oddball. He only really said anything if he was asked a question, or if all the other Wuddlepuffs were saying something. Frank actually kind of liked Zeke.

         "But, if I was a Wuddlepuff and I weren't invisible, what would I see if I looked in a mirror?"

         "Well, lad..." That was Sarge, the other four's advisor and mentor. His voice was a bit gruff. Well, if you could call a BBC comedian's version of a British officer done at the same pitch as one of the Smurfs gruff anyway. "If you weren't invisible, and you were a Wuddlepuff, which is a pretty daft idea understand. But, if that were the case, and you looked in a mirror, then what you would see, and I am speaking from long years of experience would then be..."

         "WHAT!!!!"

         "What what?"

         "What would I see if I was a noninvisible Wuddlepuff and I looked in a mirror?"

         "Well, I should say, you'd see a Wuddlepuff. Rather a silly question, I think."

         That was almost enough to make Frank scream. What came next was more than sufficient to put him over the edge.

         The chorus came up. "Awwwwwwwwwww Sarge. You made Frank all grumpy. You shouldn't call him silly. Now we have to cheer him up. Let's sing the happy song!"

         The cacophony that followed could hardly be called a song. It was pretty much all four of the Wuddlepuffs, and sometimes Sarge too, singing "Happy!" at top volume, in multiple keys simultaneously.

         In point of fact, Frank was happy about two things at that point. One, no one else could hear the accursed things for some reason, and two, he had earplugs in the bathroom, and if that proved insufficient, he could always rupture his own eardrums.

         Fortunately, it hadn't come to that, and now Frank was walking towards the local grocery store. He always worried that he would be hauled off to the asylum when people saw him muttering to himself, but usually they just took no notice and walked on. Maybe they all had to deal with Wuddlepuffs themselves. That might explain some of the violence of the world. These things could drive Gandhi into a fistfight.

         "Listen, I'm not nearly as depressed as I was when you first came three months ago." That was true. He was on the verge of suicide after a very bad breakup. He was going to take pills, but the three digit decibel shriek of "Hey, don't do that!" from nowhere scared him so bad he dropped all the pills. Then he jumped up out of his seat, tripped, hit his head and knocked himself cold. When he woke up, every pill in the house was gone. Including his bullion cubes. They were taking no chances.

         "Maybe not, but we can't leave until you're HAPPYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!"

         Going into the store, Frank saw what he was looking for, the 2 liter bottles of cola, two for 99 cents. He also saw Angela, the angel of the store. She was a wisp of cool breeze in summer forced into a Snakie Mart uniform. Her long blonde hair flowed like a sea of sunflowers as she pointed a lost customer to the chips aisle. Frank let out a long sigh as he watched her hand out change. What he wouldn't give to be a quarter in that till.

         "Hey Frank!" came Zeke's voice. "Ev'ry time you come in here, you go all googly eyed. Why don'cha just go over there and talk to her?"

         "How can I Zeke? How can a mere mortal walk up and talk to a goddess?"

         "Well you could ask her 'Where's the chips at' like that last guy."

         "I couldn't Zeke. I'd get all stuttery and wouldn't be able to say anything intellegent."

         "Oh, you'd be no diff'rent than you always are."

         "Thanks a lot Zeke."

         "Sorry. That didn't come out right. What I meant was once you started talking to her, you'd be all smooth and s'fisticted like you always are."

         "You really think so? I mean I figure if I got within ten feet of her I'd start stammering so bad I'd never be able to get a word out."

         "Fer crying out loud Frank, you're a speech therapist. If you can't control that, no one can."

         "You know, maybe your right, Zeke. I'm going to go talk to her right now."

         He approached Angela when no one else was at her till. He could feel the sweat on his forehead, but now that he had started to move, he couldn't stop himself.

         "Good afternoon sir. How can I help you."

         "Um...I was looking for...um...ah. Oh heck, You're the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen, and I can't even say one complete sentence to you."

         "Well, that was a complete sentence actually, and a pretty nice one at that. What's your name?"

         He was just about to answer when out of nowhere four shrieks of "GO ON FRANK! TELL HER YOUR NAME! ASK HER OUT FOR DINNER!" roared through his ears. He said the only thing he really could under the circumstances.

         "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"

         Angela responded in kind, and jumped back, knocking her head on the cigarette shelf overhead. She fell over behind the till and her manager ran over. He had to call an ambulance.

         Meanwhile, Zeke said, "Gee Frank, do you think she'll still go out to dinner with you?"

         After explaining that he saw a huge roach and it startled him, the manager agreed to let Frank go without any calls to the police on the provision that he never set foot in the store again. Frank went home feeling miserable and dejected. The Wuddlepuffs, sensing his mood, began singing the Happy Song again to cheer him up.

         So, remember boys and girls, the Wuddlepuffs are out there, and if you are feeling blue or down in the dumps, be careful, or they might come to try to cheer you up too.
© Copyright 2002 Colin Back on the Ghost Roads (UN: colinneilson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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