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Inanimate Carbon Rod

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    The Misadventures of Casper and Wendy

    in Davy Jones' Locker

    Posted · Edited by Wendy the Witch

    Ah, the Middle Ages! Truly a riveting time in human history. A time of valor and bravery, of awesome, gory conflict, of cruel, unusual, just plain ugly torture methods, of savage, blood-thirsty barbarians, of fire-breathing dragons and wizards and witches with mysterious magical powers, and of scrumptious feasts fit for, well… a king! (Not to mention all the rare, radiant ladies fair! *click!*) T’was a time when brave knights were bound by honor to serve and protect their sacred kingdom and their exalted rulers, and- parry! thrust! lance! parry! clink! swish! tzing!- battled each other for the kingdom- or even for the hand of a fair maiden- with their trust swords at the ready in an epic duel- to the death, even! I’ll bet at least one of you reading this would give your eyeteeth to travel back to those times, and that’s precisely what our favorite friendly ghost, Casper, often lies awake at night thinking! And his wish’ll come true- in a most unusual way, when he’ll soon become…

     

     

    A Ghost in King Arthur’s Court!

     

     

    Chapter 1:

     

    “Paging King Arthur”

     

    or 

     

    “Zappy New Year!”

     

     

     

    Casper was lying on his bed, which was perhaps the only room in the bungalow he and his uncles resided in which was really clean and nice-looking, wallpapered, even. Also, quite a bit of assorted doodads and items lying around, too, perhaps more than the rest of the house, but the room wasn’t really all that cluttered.

     

    Assorted posters here and there, mostly of favorite musical acts and a few other things, shelves of assorted knick-knacks and mementos from previous adventures by himself or with Wendy, a couple of big crates full of LPs, among various other things, surrounded him in his room, but that stuff probably won’t do anything to advance the plot, so why am I even telling you about all that?

     

    Anyway, he was lying on his bed, deeply engrossed in a book, one which was rather large in size and obviously one which was about a subject he truly had interest in. Its title: Medieval Lore, Volume 1.

     

    “Wow!” the ghost said to himself in amazement. “This Middle Ages stuff really is fascinating! All those interesting characters, Robin Hood, King Arthur, the Knights of the Round Table (why round? Maybe it was because of their round bellies after so many feasts), St. George… wow! What bravery those knights had back then! What valor! Boy, were they fearless! Why, not even a menacing dragon could make them turn yellow with fear! If only I could go back there! That would be so cool! Maybe one of these days I’ll go ask Wendy to take me to Merrie Ol’ England in her time machine!”

     

    At that moment, Casper’s uncles, the Ghostly Trio, walked in. The friendly ghost could realize right away that they were going to make fun of his interests once again.

     

    “Hiya, Casper!” said Fatso, one of his unks, waving his hand. “What’cha reading? The Wit and Wisdom of Mr. Rogers?”

     

    Chimed in Stretch, another uncle: “A graphic novel version of those Tom and Jerry cartoons with that duck?”

     

    Said Lazo, the last of the Trio: “How about a book on How to be the Worst Ghost Ever?

     

    The three of them snickered at their own jokes.

     

    “Nix!” replied Casper. “Really, uncles! You should know I’m a lot more than a ‘sissy’ ghost who wants to be friendly and good and likes doing good deeds and other things like that! Just ask Wendy! Besides, how much do you know about me, anyhow? This much! I hated that duck!”

     

    He made a gesture with his hand to emphasize the “this much.”

     

    “Anyway, if you must know,” he continued. “I’m reading about Merrie Olde England during the Middle Ages! Dragons! Brave knights! Fair damsels in distress! Jousting! The works! Fascinating stuff.”

     

    It was here when the Trio decided to once again make fun of his interests once again.

     

    “Parry! Thrust! Thrust! Tzing! Swish! And other similar sound-eth effects-eth!” said Fatso, swinging his arms as if he was swishing around a sword.

     

    “Hark!” joined in Lazo. “What light from yonder window breaks? A sunbeam, of course, knave, and gadzooks! is it bright!”

     

    “Avast, me hearties! Batten down the hatches and hoist the jib or ye’ll walk th’ plank!” added Stretch.

     

    The other two uncles looked at him and shook their heads. “Seriously, Stretch? Pirate lingo? You’re a complete idiot now! Get your time periods right, lubber, else ye’ll be walkin’ th’ plank! An’ by plank I mean some simple arithmetic: my fist + your face = POW!”

     

    Stretch just shrugged and gave a big smile.

     

    “Anyways,” the three of them said, facing their nephew. “When ya ever gonna stop reading dreck like this? When ya ever gonna read some real books, like, f’rinstance, we dunno, something with lotsa gore and blood, and decapitation and zombie Nazis and big explosions and people getting killed an’ that kinda stuff? Some real he-ghost-type literature, not some silly book of fairy tales and folklore and stories that end happily ever after!”

     

    “Phooey!” said Casper. “I’ll read what I want, and you can’t change that about me! Now, if you excuse me,” he continued, walking downstairs and to the door, “I shalt seeketh some refuge from ye insipid joking and jesting! I need my solitude.”

     

    And he walked out the door, book in hand.

     

    “Heh-heh! ‘Seekth’! Hee-hee-hee!” the Trio laughed, making fun of the way our favorite friendly ghost was talking.

     

    “I heard that!” Casper replied as he raced back to the house for a sec.

     

    He then continued on his walk. He searched for a good, quiet spot to continue his literary pursuits, until he chanced upon a log sitting on the ground near a shady tree.

     

    “Hark!” gasped Casper to himself. “A log under yon shady oak tree! Perfect to continue my literary pursuits.”

     

    And as he sat down to get back to reading about the days of King Arthur and Robin Hood, he had no idea of just what was going to happen to him in the ensuing minutes, for hiding in a bush not too far from Casper was a mean old witch, who had some real nasty plans up her sleeve.

     

    “A-ha!” she exclaimed. “There’s that goody-goody gumdrop of a ghost they call Casper! Ugh! How I despise him and his friendly ways! I’ve had it up my armpits with his niceness! And friendliness, niceness and all around frivolous behavior nauseates me! Why, Im liable to chuck up a big one in this bush as I speak! And I’ve got a rotten idea up my sleeve! With my dark magic I’ll send that sweet as candy specter back to England during the Middle Ages! I remember when I was a kid, spooks were considered bad luck, and any ghost found even just stopping and sniffing the roses (ecch!) would be put in a spook-proof dungeon! Maybe they’ll do that to him! Hee-hee-hee!”

     

    Meanwhile, far away from the Enchanted Forest, over at Kremer Stadium, quite a terrific baseball game was going on. And since I don’t know much about the Great American Pastime (or most sports, except maybe bullfighting or billiards or bowling or surfing, so don’t ask me to narrate a sports-themed Casper and Wendy adventure, mmkay?), I’ll just describe it in a way that doesn’t suggest I’m an ignorant ignoramus when it comes to sports.

     

    Well, the Metro City Mallards were up against their greatest rival, the Harveyville Hawks, who were in every way better than the Mallards. Even their name, as if you didn’t notice, was cooler than the “Metro City Mallards”. (Besides, who wants to name their team after a web-footed bird, except for that college in Oregon?)

     

    The Mallards were still a good team, even though they weren’t performing as well as they did, as their coach, “Rusty” Luciano, was out camping with family for two weeks (as if this information is vital to the plot), and thus wasn’t around to guide the team with his sterling leadership.

     

    Anyway, they were doing a (far from) decent job, though, as the score for this inning was 15 to 3. However, their star pitcher, “Madball” Marciano, was determined to bring his team to victory, as he had rubbed his lucky cap the night before, and had with him his lucky bat. And as the ball from a player from the Hawks sent the ball towards his direction, he responded with his trademark big hit. And as WAP! his bat hit the ball, he made a bigger hit than ever before, as it went zooming at great speed out of the park, with nobody in the stadium or watching the game at home knowing where it’d land.

     

    Well, Casper did, as after some five minutes or so of flying through the air, it chanced to -BONK!- land right on Casper’s noggin, and knocked him right off his wooden seat, THUD, right on the grassy ground.

     

    “A-ha!” said the witch to herself, seeing a perfect opportunity to zap the friendly ghost back in time. “Perfect! When that ghost wakes up, he’ll have no idea how he got there! Hee-hee!”

     

    She got out her wand.

     

    “Because having to live in the same forest as that ghost is such a hassle,

    Send him back to the land of knights and castles!”  she muttered as she made a few passes with her wand.

     

    And, faster than you can say “double, double, toil and trouble,” BZAP! went the wand as it zapped Casper back to another time and place.

     

     

    Next time on The Misadventures of Casper and Wendy:

     

    Casper awakens to find himself back in the Middle Ages, convinced that a simple conk on the ol’ cranium could do so much. Inevitably, having read on the subject, he’s astonished to be back in the times of jousting, chivalry and delicious mutton, but as he explores Merrie Olde England, danger and maybe even a new friend will await him. How’s it going to play out? Find out in the next episode:

     

    “Knight and Day”

     

    or

     

    “We’re Off to See the Wizard!”

    A sincere apology

    in Robot-Pirate Island

    Posted

    Thanks for accepting my apology. Nice to hear that I'm appreciated, that you all think I'm a nice guy. Also, Local, never thought of myself as overlooked and underrated as a member, but that's also great to hear. Finally, it's awesome to hear I haven't really done anything wrong. Again, thanks, fellow members. It kinda warms my heart to hear I'm appreciated. :)

    Also, Steel, a review indeed would be awesome.

    Casper and Wendy Shorts

    in Davy Jones' Locker

    Posted · Edited by Wendy the Witch

    Monsieur jjs le enfant, coulde-vous send zis topic to Le Lockeur uv Monsieur Davy Jones, si'l vous plait? Have decided to abandon le un-serialized novelle petite about le gentil ghost et petite witch, on account uv Je have simply forgotten about it et probably won't have le time pour eet. Et also because Je suis leaving, nuff said, believaires genuine, as le usair avec "Hong-Kong-Phooey" profile image, quoi e'tat his nom de plume? Oh, oui- "Quatre Ever Verte".

    A sincere apology

    in Robot-Pirate Island

    Posted

    Hey, guys. Obviously this is Wendy (or if you know me from SBM, the Appetizer, aka the guy with the unintentionally funny comic strip in his sig) speaking, as if you couldn't tell, and tonight, there is something I'd really like to speak to you fellow SpongeBob (or in the case of Patty, SOF, G4ry or Local: Amy Rose, Hilda, Dug and Disney respectively [sorry if I offended any of you]) about, and I hope I have better luck than Squidward in "Fools in April" saying it.

    Y'see, I realize that I might've come across a crazy annoying little turd vying for your attention from time to time, and if that's an understatement, often. I don't know I really have, but I may also have tried to guilt you into replying to my topics. And if I need it, I may need a little dose of patience. Sure, I know you people have lives, that you do a lot more than sit in front of a computer or tap away on your phone on this site, but I can't seem to help it.

    And if that's the case, I'm genuinely, sincerely, honestly, 100%, totally...

    Squidville78.png

     

    for all those things, and then some. But not for liking some "ancient" cartoon characters nobody here except me and RTU care about. Not even being thrown in the pillory would make me stop liking 'em. ?

    But for everything else, I'm sorry. And that cake proves it.

     

     

    The Misadventures of Casper and Wendy

    in Davy Jones' Locker

    Posted · Edited by Wendy the Witch
    slightly tweaked

    Previously on The Misadventures of Casper and Wendy:

     

    Our favorite witch had just revealed the rest of her epic plan to save the holidays to Casper, and boy! Did he like every bit of it. Our villainous friend, the Grinch? He didn’t hear any of it, but whatever’s coming his way, he probably won’t like it one bit! Then again, maybe he will, who knows? Anyway, our duo has just started on their mission, and of course, like I said, it won’t be all cake and ice cream! Or will it? Pretty much anything’s possible when you’ve got someone like Wendy for a friend (same with Mary Poppins, but this literature isn’t about that practically perfect nanny!). Oh, and did I say “very special guests”? Sorry, my bad. Again, I’ve been watching too many Love Boat and variety shows from the 70s. I’m a mite distracted for a narrator, aren’t I? Anyway, what will our boo-tiful duo find themselves facing on their quest to make billions of people around the world happy? And what’s the Grinch’s villainous plan to ruin the holidays like? Find out in the conclusion to our “Witchmas” special:

     

     

    “Present Tense”

     

    or

     

    “A Grinch in Time”

     

     

     

     

    When we last left our heroes, they had just started on their epic journey to save the holidays. And, since they hadn’t hit their first stop yet, kind of conversing about some rather serious matters.

     

    “Oh, gee,” muttered Casper, with a thoughtful expression on his ghostly white face.

     

    “What’s the matter?”, asked Wendy, naturally concerned about what was wrong with her friend. “Please tell me you don’t like being my reindeer.”

     

    “S’not that,” reassured the friendly ghost. “Y’see, I’ve been thinking, and I still don’t know what to give to my uncles. Even though it’s hard living with three ghosts who only care about booing and scaring and perfecting their…er… art, and always egging on me to go on one of their scare raids, but deep down, they still care about me and my safety. They really deserve something for that, but I don’t know what! And, although I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I feel… kind of sorry for those meanies. Every year they camp out in front of the fireplace, hoping to trap Santa and help themselves to the toys in his pack, and every year, for doing so, you know what they get?”

     

    “A big box full’a lumps of coal?”, guessed the little witch.

     

    “AACCCKKKK!”, answered back Casper, imitating a buzzer like you’d hear on a game show. “No! Nein! Good guess, but incorrect! They keep getting NOTHING! NOTHING!!!”, saying “nothing” in a half-decent impression of Gene Wilder as a certain magical candy-maker, need we say who?

     

    He continued his tale:

     

     

    Except for maybe a note from the big guy urging them to be good, which they’ll probably never do, even though I talked them into trying to at least a couple of times. And even if they tried being good like me, they always revert back to their usual nasty selves! And still, I give them presents, but it’s usually stuff I like, in hopes that they’ll become more like me, although for once I’d like to give ‘em something they like, if there’s anything they like other than booing and being just plain mean and jerky! Surely there must be other things they like, but I can’t think of any at the moment. Any recollection of their other likes, if any, has seemingly been erased out of my mind for the time being. Could you help me out, Wendy?”

     

    “Y’know,” replied the good little witch, but still trying to focus on driving the sled, “there is one thing I’ve got in mind for them! We can give it to them when we reach our last stop: home.”

     

    “Awesome!”, the ghost replied, giving Wendy the thumbs-up.

     

    While they were talking, Wendy heard a rather suspicious noise. She wasn’t sure of it, but it kind of sounded like… laughter??

     

    “Ho-ho-ho!”, laughed the laugh, a category 10 if it could be measured on the laughter scale.

     

    Eh? the witch thought. That’s peculiar. Could it be that Santa’s… no! That can’t be! I’d better take a look to see what’s up. I suspect something real suspicious is going on!

     

    She turned around, converting her wand to telescope mode so she could see if anything came up, and indeed something did! And what she saw was something she never thought it could possibly be!

     

    At first, it was kind of hard to see, but as it came closer into view, exactly what it was could be seen in a way that the little witch could see everything. It was a rather old-looking sleigh, one that obviously looked like it was in a bit of disrepair. Instead of a pack of reindeer pulling it, there was a little dog wearing antlers, obviously not liking this job. He looks like he’d rather be flirting with Lassie or some cute poodle to me, Wendy thought. And the little old driver piloting this ratty old rig? It wasn’t Santa at all, but someone in a Santa costume! A tall looking fella, with a sinister expression covering his furry green face. Yep, you guessed correctly, dear reader: t’was the Grinch!

     

    Wendy was surprised by the whole thing. What th’, she thought. Is that the Grinch driving that old klunker of a sleigh? I thought he was fictional, created for that book, which; incidentally, was made into a really good animated version in the 60s. Anyway, this can’t be! And from that I’m seeing, I take it he’s *gulp!* been eavesdropping on us an’ has been plotting to ruin the holidays once again? This is awful! I’d better tell Casper!

     

    She converted her wand back to wand mode and turned back around to tell her friend the news.

     

    “Say, Casper!”, Wendy asked of our favorite friendly ghost. “You know the Grinch, right?”

     

    “Of course I do, Wend,” replied Casper. “Tall green fella who lived on Mt. Crumpit with a heart two sizes too small, despised the holidays, tried to stop Christmas from coming, but in the end reformed and realized what the holidays are really about?”

     

    “Yup,” replied the good little witch. “Turns out, he wasn’t just fiction! He’s *gulp* real!”

     

    “Wow! Really? Can we stop to get an autograph, or…?” enthusiastically replied her ghostly friend.

     

    “No way!”, sternly said Wendy. “This is no time for autographs! Why, he probably doesn’t know about the book or that cartoon adaption of said book! He’s right behind us, and it seems like the rotten character’s been eavesdropping on us and has made it his mission to stop us from saving th’ holidays!”

     

    “NO!!!”, exclaimed Casper, who naturally was concerned about all this.

     

    “Yeah!”, replied the good little witch. “And are we going to let him steal Christmas again? No! We’ll foil his plans once and for all! We’ll show him what happens when someone like him tangles with this little witch and this friendly ghost from the Enchanted Forest! And that’s where my plan’ll kick in!”

    “Yeah!” replied Casper. “That plan of yours’ll really foil his attempts to stop us cold in our tracks!”

     

    “And by Christmas morn,” added Wendy, “he won’t know what hit him! He’ll be seein’ more stars than in Hollywood, and certainly more than that time we accidentally fell off th’ stage into that empty ball pit when we explored that abandoned pizza arcade a couple months ago… but now’s not the time for recollection of animatronic cows turned evil or anything like that! We’ve got to concentrate on saving the holidays! For all those countless billions in dire need of some good cheer!”

     

    “A-men!” chimed in Casper. “For everyone, kids, adults, and even the little animals, around the world!”

     

    “That’s right, best pal o’mine!” replied Wendy.

     

    Just as they were done talking, that rotten jalopy we laughingly refer to as a “sleigh” swiftly (as swiftly as this thing could!) moved right next to our heroes. And there was the Grinch, devious expression on his face, and he slowly got out of his obviously very uncomfortable seat.

     

    “Agh, my butt! I should’ve adjusted this seating!” he muttered, among a few other things.

    “Because it’s giving my butt such an awful beating.”

     

    While he was busy trying to get out of his seat, complaining about his butt, Casper and Wendy just laughed like crazy at him.

     

    Five minutes of non-stop laughter later (yes, it was THAT hilarious…), he was finally off his seat and was kind of sitting on the side of the door to his sled.

     

    “Well, hello there, er… ah…”, he said in a deep voice that sounded kind of Santa-like, but barely fooled Wendy one bit.

     

    He stopped to think for a second. 

    “Just what are the names of those two kids taking over for Santy?

    I’d just love to hang their keisters over my mantie!”, he said to himself.

     

    “Ah! Never mind the names!

    What matters that I’ll deprive those goody-good microbes of their holiday fortune and fame!”

     

    “Salutations, er… Lisa and Elroy?

    Lulu and John-Boy?”

     

    All Casper and Wendy could do was stare at our villain, unamused looks on their faces.

     

    Wendy facepalmed.

     

    Seriously? He’s been eavesdropping on us and still he doesn’t remember our names?… she thought.

     

    “Wendy and Casper,” the witch corrected in a deadpan voice. “And that isn’t even close to our names!”

     

    “Okay, Jasper and, er… Wanda,” the Grinch continued.

     

    Close enough, the witch thought, rolling her eyes.

     

    “It’s me, dear old Santa Claus, Saint Nick, and I feel like better’n a Tufted Zonda!”

     

    Does a creature like that even exist? she thought again.

     

    “Why the long faces, kids?”, the Grinch continued, struggling to keep the voice, constantly letting his normal, Karloff-esque voice slip, and gagging and clearing his throat. a bit too, as the voice was a little much for him.

     

    “You can go back home, and you… the one in the red suit!

    Give yourself the boot

    And Ghost-Boy! Go remove yourself from those reins!

    While ol’ Santy takes over this gift-giving game!

    Go back home!

    No more over rooftops, over yards shall you roam!

    While I stuff presents in stockings, under trees while the kiddies are asleep in their bids!”

     

    Bids? thought Wendy. I don’t dig poetry, except if it’s in th’ form of a magical spell, of course, but is this guy for real?

     

    “And by th’ way, just a second quick” the ersatz Santa continued.

    “How about a little old gift for old St. Nick?

     

    That, Wendy, thought was the perfect time for part of her plan to finally kick in.

     

    “Okay, Mr. Claus,” said the good little witch, with an expression on her face which suggested that she had something up her sleeve.

     

    “I’ll give you a present, one you’ll remember years and years from now! And it’s a really special one, too!”

     

    Naturally, the Grinch thought Wendy and Casper were stupid enough to fall for his schemes, and he thought that she was going to give him a toy or something! And indeed that’s what he’ll be getting- and then some!!

     

    Wendy went through Santa’s bag, with a devious expression on her face, and got out a rather nice looking doll. “Here y’go!”, said the witch, still maintaining that expression on her face. “A little doll of your very own! And it’s a talking doll, too! Says 10 different phrases! ‘Hi!’, ‘Change my diaper’, th’ works!”

     

    She gave the doll to the Grinch, and he seemed very delighted with the toy, pulling away at the string which made the doll say those 10 different phrases.

    “Aw-w-w-w-w! How cute!

    She really is a beaut!”

     

    “Oh- and ‘Santa’”, she added. “There’s just a li’l something extra that I think you’ll get a real bang out of, heh-heh.”

     

    “What is it?”, the Grinch asked.

    “A brass knu- er… a toy fire truck?? A baseball mitt?

     

    “Shoosh!” said Wendy. “Listen. Just listen.”

     

    And she got out her wand, ready to do some serious spell-casting.

     

    “Good white spirits, dearly I implore

    Make that old sleigh fly no more!”

     

    And in a twinkling, the reins holding Max magically snapped, and ZOOM! that jalopy of a sleigh was sent plummeting at great speed towards the ground.

     

    And while it was falling, the Grinch still was pulling away at the doll’s string, until it said something rather curious:

    “Babbling Bessie will self-destruct in 10 seconds! 10! 9! 8! 7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2! 1!”

     

    And in a matter of seconds, the doll- and our villain’s sled- went KA-POW!, leaving nothing more than a wrecked sleigh and a charred Grinch and Max, all of which landed softly in the Northern snow. Still….

     

    “Oh-h-h-h-h-h!” said the Grinch as he got up. “Methinks the natural rhyming section of my brain has been severely damaged! I could go see a doctor about that, but this is no time for such trivial matters! I’ve just got to stop those two dead in their tracks! But first, I’ve got to get out some anger, afore I start turning red!”

     

    “CURSES!!” he angrily shouted, who was now looking his pooch right squarely in the eye. “How were we to know that that doll would explode? That little girl must’ve figured out our dirty work and saw through my cunning disguise! I mean, I’ll admit, I’m not the best actor in the whole world, but that disguise could fool anyone! And how was I to know that she was magic? Is she a fairy or a witch or something from some magical world of magic and happy little elves who live in mushrooms and talking trees? Yeah- that has t’ be it! And if that’s the case…”, he boldly stated, making some sort of revelation that just dawned upon him.

     

    “…I’m sunk!” he bawled, just like a baby who just had his candy taken away from him. “There’s no way we could positively do anything to stop that good little witch or fairy… or whatever she is…. from carrying out their task of giving the world their silly little trinkets and toys and such! We just can’t! She’ll be hep to our tricks and my disguises, whatever we do, she’ll be prepared! How can we dupe Little Miss Sunshine and that ghost friend of hers into stopping their task and going home?”

     

    Just then, he sighted a unusual group of objects together in a little junk pile: an child’s propellor cap, a unicycle, an old Klaxon horn, and a clown costume.

     

    “A strange assortment,” said the Grinch to himself. “But I could use these for something. She’ll probably be hep to our tricks again, but it’s still worth a shot.”

     

    Back up in the sky, Casper was busy complimenting Wendy on how she took care of our villainous friend(?).

     

    “You did it, Wendy!! You were great there! Truly terrific!”

     

    “Aw, gee! Thanks, Casp! I really was, wasn’t I?” replied the witch, blushing.

     

    Suddenly, a strange feeling came over her, like a certain someone was up to no good once again, to smeckledorf our heroes into letting him stop Christmas from coming again.

     

    And her Spidey… er… Wendy-Sense™ proved right, as both her and Casper saw a really strange sight: was it… a grown man.. or something or other… riding a unicycle, and wearing a propellor cap, tooting an old car horn? In the sky, yet?

     

    Where is that fella going, to be a contestant on Let’s Make a Deal?, Casper thought.

     

    The figure came closer, until it stopped. T’was the Grinch, once again in another silly disguise.

     

    “Hold on thar, missy!”, he drawled, in a voice that kind of sounded like a slightly-lower pitched version of Gomer Pyle’s voice. (Ask your parents!)

     

    “Big storm comin’ up in the East! Better go home with all those goodies in your bag so’s yew two’ll be safe! Wouldn’t want those valuables in thar to get sucked up in th’ wind, never t’come back!”

     

    Wendy and Casper, once again, weren’t amused. Both of them knew what really was going on, that their nemesis was trying to con them again.

     

    “Stand back, ol’ buddy,” the good little witch assured her buddy. “I got this.”

     

    She then rummaged through Santa’s bag, looking for just what she wanted to counter her and Casper’s foe once more, until, exactly forty-five seconds later, she found it: an unopened jack in the box, waiting to pop out of its chamber. “Perfect,” she said to herself.

     

    She then tapped the shoulder of the ersatz mountain man, Jack held in Wendy’s other hand behind her back.

     

    “Er— Mister… ah… what’s your name?”, she asked.

     

    “Why, yuh kin jes’ call me Biff,” said the Grinch in that southern drawl of his.

     

    “Well, Biff,” Wendy happily replied. “Personally, I think havin’ the good sense of telling me and my friend about some rather imminent-type danger that might threaten our mission really deserves an early Christmas present.”

     

    She gave “Biff” the jack in the box, with a smile that seemed very insincere, very rare for this good little witch. “Here y’are!” she beamed.

     

    “Gee!” replied the Grinch, now kind of switching back to his regular voice, but mostly still talking in the southern voice . “Thanks! This’ll be a great present for th’ boy!”

     

    And then, as he happily winded up the box, giddy at the sight of the present, and mesmerized by every note of the tinkly rendition of “Pop Goes the Weasel” which it played, until… immediately after the final note of the tune played… WAM! Ol’ Jack burst out of there like he was a prisoner escaping from his cell, going and going until it had done just what Wendy wanted it to do: it knocked off the Grinch’s propellor cap clear off his head, sending him, Max, and the unicycle falling to the ground at rapid speed. And once the good little witch heard that distant CRASH! BANG! CLATTER! TINKLE! of a Grinch falling into a junk pile in the middle of the North Pole, a satisfied smile appeared on Wendy’s face.

     

    And just then, a voice moaned down below. “I give up! I surrender! Forget it! I’m going back home on Mt. Rainbow Sprinkles!! Carry on with your mission! I’m through! I’m throwin’ in the towel! No more schemes, no more dirty tricks!”. It was the Grinch, waving a white flag.

     

    And once she heard that moan, Wendy had an idea. “You know what, Casper,” she said. “It looks like our foe has finally thrown in the ol’ towel! Looks like we’ll be able to carry out our mission unhampered!”

     

    “Awesome!”, replied the friendly ghost. “I’d give you a fist bump for doing such a good job, but I’m tied up at the moment!” He then cringed at the awful pun that he just had made.

     

    “When we get home, ‘kay?” then said the witch. “But before we really get cracking, let’s go pay a visit to our Grinchy friend! I want to give him a little parting gift before we never see his evil face again!”

     

    “Ah!” replied Casper. “What is it? Another of your brilliant ideas to send him packing?”

     

    “Naw!” said Wendy, shaking her head. “This time, there’ll be no tricks. This time, I’ll give him a real genuine gift! From the heart, even. When he sees what I’ll give him, he’ll be reduced to tears, and let’s just say we’ll see a part of him that hasn’t been seen in a long time.”

     

    Immediately after that, they flew down on their nemesis, who was lying on the ground sitting on that unicycle that he used, which was now all wrecked, with the wheel all misshapen and other unpleasant things like that, but the Grinch was still managing to wave that flag like a pro.

     

    “Wal, paint me silver an’ sell me as a flagpole!” exclaimed Wendy, imitating that southern drawl the Grinch used in his disguise as “Biff”. “If it ain’t our ol’ pal Biff! Shore looks like yuh had a real nasty tumble thar! Lemme help yuh up, Biff, ol’ pal, or should ah say, Mr. ‘Holiday Hater’ himself, th’ Grinch!!”

     

    “Thought you could stop us from saving the holidays, eh? You, sir, really are a heel!” added Casper. “And those disguises of yours? Stink, stank, stunk!”

     

    “Alright, you got me,” moaned the Grinch, his head ringing like a king-size telephone. “For most of my life I’ve despised Christmas! The noise! The senseless cheer and happiness! And one day I decided to move here, to the North Pole, so that could I try and find some way to rid this frigid wasteland of its most famous resident, that jolly old gift-giver himself, Santa Claus! I thought that  if I could get him out of the picture, I could stop Christmas from coming! I could put an end to all of that frivolity and gaiety which permeate the holiday season, because no presents equal no rotten smiling faces, no Christmas! But this year, I got wind that ol’ Nick was sick in bed on account of a nasty cold, which is as good as breaking into his workshop and sending him adrift on an ice floe never to return or something like that! And I decided I’d steal every last Christmas tree and menorah and ornament, even the tiniest, most skinniest branches of holly, and I thought everything was coming up roses for me and Max here! But you two magical goody-good types had to be elected to become Santas for the year, and I could’ve gotten away with my sinister doings if it weren’t for you two meddling kids! Why, if I could I’d arrange to have you two gobbled down by a ravenous polar bear, or stabbed by a walrus, or…”

     

    “Whoa, whoa,” interrupted Wendy, shaking her finger. “Let’s not get too bloody! It’d go against the tone of the literature!”

     

    “Anyways,” she added, reaching into Santa’s pack, “I get it. You hate the holiday season an awful lot. But I’ve always loved Christmas. The music, the colorful lights, those cartoon specials that come on every year, sipping a cup of hot cocoa by the fireside, sledding down the hills at rapid speed, and, although I’m not talkin’ ya into it, here’s a little present that’ll hopefully change your tune.”

     

    And she had just the thing: a little slide whistle, an instrument that will perhaps, in this day and age, will be associated with that SpongeBob episode. Attached to it was a tag, which read:

     

    TO MR. GRINCH

     

    FROM WENDY, ALIAS SANTA CLAUS

     

    When he saw that instrument, he was befuddled by the whole thing. “Er, Wendy?”

     

    “Yeeeesssssss?” asked the witch.

     

    Finally he gets my name right! thought the little witch, happy expression on her face.

     

    “What’s the gag here, anyway? Is this instrument going to blow up in my face? Is there a little mechanical man who’ll poke me in the cornea in this thing?”

     

    “No, my Christmas-despising friend!” replied Wendy. “Play it! I think it’ll do you an awful lot of good.”

     

    And play he did, and once he played that first note on the slide whistle, something amazing happened. All thoughts of evil and gloom and depriving the world of all forms of holiday cheer suddenly vanished, and his heart grew, and grew, and grew- 6 sizes too big to be specific- and a great big smile appeared on his face, and his eyes were reduced to tears as he kept tootling on the instrument. He had went back to the happy, gentle, holiday-loving soul who he was before that tree whomped him three years ago. 

     

    “T-thanks, Wendy!” he sobbed. “I’ve never been so happy in my life! I- I think I feel a profound change in myself! I feel as.. as though my heart… it’s grown! Six times as it previously was, at that! I feel… like singing a merry old Christmas carol… deck the halls with boughs of holly… jingle all the way… and all that other Yuletide stuff like that! I feel like dancing! I feel as merry as a schoolboy, giddy as an elf, jolly as good ol’ Santa Claus himself! I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my whole life! C’mon, Max! When we get home we’re packing out bags and moving back to Whoville! But not before I give you a huge, juicy, nice steak dinner! Oh- and Merry Christmas, you two delightful children! May your dreams come true- may every year be better than the next!”

     

    And he and his pooch exited the scene, happily playing a peppy little tune on the slide whistle, skipping and hopping even!

     

    “I just knew that’d do it,” said Wendy to Casper, pointing her thumb at the changed Grinch. “It’s moments like this that really make being a good little witch… well… awesome. Now, how about that fist bump?” 

     

    “Sure, let’s have a go at it, eh what?” replied the ghost in a fake Cockney accent, fist at the ready.

     

    “Capital, Casper, ol’ chum, quite capital indeed!” exclaimed the witch, in her own fake British accent.

     

    And the two made a fist bump, one so epic words fail me to describe exactly how epic it was, but it was epic!

     

    “Now, let’s really get to bringing joy to the world, and happiness for all,” triumphantly said Wendy, walking back to the sleigh.

     

    “Right on,” replied Casper.

     

    And so, our heroes flew into the wild blue yonder (although they obviously weren’t old enough to join the Air Force), fully ready to start spreading joy all over the world, their mission now unhampered.

     

    From China to Chicago, from Berlin to Bombay, from Rio to Rhode Island, in every last country, territory, state, city, village and tiny hamlet, they delivered presents for uncountable billions of people, not just little children, but teenagers, adults, senior citizens… and Wendy being the good little witch she is, even those who didn’t ask for anything got a little something special this year to put a smile on their face. Heck, even those little kids who camped out in front of the ol’ fireplace, awaiting a glimpse of Santa himself were understandably surprised as who this mysterious little girl in the red suit who was taking over the role of gift-giver this year, but when she explained exactly what was going on, they immediately understood and they went to bed completely satisfied. Sure, there were other people who took notice of this substitute Santa (hey, that’s the name of this episode!), but they, too were happy with her, as Wendy was every bit as jolly and merry and big-hearted as the real Santa.

     

    And after stopping at thousands of cities, towns, municipalities and villages (even though some of the foods that were laid out for our favorite good little witch were less than appetizing for her taste buds), there was one stop left on Casper and Wendy’s journey.

     

    “Last stop on our epic mission, home sweet home: the Enchanted Forest!” Wendy exclaimed happily.

     

    “Ya-hooie!” enthusiastically responded Casper. “I can’t wait to see our friends’ faces when they find out we’re doing the Santa bit this year!”

     

    “Same here,” said Wendy.

     

    And after landing and distributing presents to every ghost, gnome, witch, devil, fairy, goblin and any other magical creature that resides in the Forest that I forgot to mention (and after an all too partaking of the steamed hams), there was only one person left to give presents to. Well, actually three: Casper’s uncles, the Ghostly Trio.

     

    “Well, Casper,” said the good little witch. “Here’s the very last stop on our journey- your place! How’s about we give your uncles a little surprise, eh, ol’ buddy?”

     

    “That’d be awesome!” happily responded the friendly ghost. “Their eyes’ll pop out of their sockets when they see you instead of Santa come down the chimney!”

     

    “Heh-heh!”, replied Wendy, chuckling about what she’d have in store for them. “I’ll bet they didn’t see me coming at all!”

     

    Back at Casper’s place, the Trio were camped out in front of the chimney, with what looked to be a giant box laid out for Santa inside.

     

    “Y’know, brothers,” said Fatso (actually, his real name is Orinthal, but don’t tell him I told you!) one of Casper’s unks, obviously the fat one if you didn’t guess already. “Methinks that this year, we’ll catch ourselves that fat ol gift-giver this time! And when he comes down th’ chimney- if he does, which is very unlikely, he’ll find himself in this ol’ chest an’ we’ll have all his wonderful presents to ourselves!”

     

    “Y’sure this’ll work, Fatso?” asked Lazlo, or “Lazo” for short, another of the Trio, concerned. “You know that he won’t stop by this year? Just the usual note to be nicer ghosts like Casper and a big sack of coal for the fire! Can’t we stop with this trapping Santa bit an’ just face th’ facts? I mean, last year we didn’t get Santa- your lasso skills roped in some salesman from Dallas peddling cowboy duds!”

     

    “Oh, I don’t know about that, Lazo,” replied Raoul, the other uncle, although he preferred the nickname “Stretch” for some reason I won’t bother to elucidate about here. “I’ve got faith in the guy! Got a funny feeling this time we’ll be getting him for sure!”

     

    Suddenly, something fell down the chimney, into the box. And of course, the Trio were ecstatic. “We did it, brothers,” triumphantly said Fatso. “This year, we got ourselves some Santa. Now, let’s open up the box, shall we, just so we can see his face when he sees us staring him cold in the face!”

     

    And as he opened up the box, the other two uncles heavily anticipating this moment, they saw someone they weren’t expecting at all.

     

    “Ta-da!” shouted Wendy, as she was released from the box. “Hello, fellas! Shouldn’t you three be in bed right about now?”

     

    “Wendy, you surprising little gumdrop!” angrily said Fatso. “What’re you doing here? Where’s Santa?”

     

    “I’m Santa this year!” said Wendy in complete sincerity.

     

    And when she said that, the Trio thought she was joking, and burst out laughing like hyenas. “That’s a good one, Wendy!” they chortled. “That’s a funny! We can feel my guts busting as we speak!”

     

    “B-but I’m serious!” replied Wendy. “Let me explain!”

     

    “Alright,” sternly said Fatso. “But dis better be a good one, hear?”

     

    And explain she did, but as she was done telling Casper’s unks about the situation, they were still not convinced.

     

    “A likely story!” retorted the rotund ghost. “But we’d like ta see some concrete evidence! Or else yer gonna get booed into orbit for thinking we’re that gullible!”

     

    “Well,” said the witch, getting out three individually wrapped presents. “Do these say that I’m tricking you? Hmmm?

     

    And at the sight of the presents, the Trio were finally convinced that Wendy really was telling them the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

     

    “Y’mean dat these are for us?” asked Fatso. “A real present, and not some coal for th’ fire or one of Casper’s sissy presents?”

     

    “Nope!” said Wendy, shaking her head. “But before you open your gifts, there’s someone who’s been with me the whole ride, and he’d love to see this. Just gimme a sec.”

     

    And she went up the chimney, whistling to Casper as a signal. “Hey, Casper!”, she called. “Come down here! Your uncles are about to open their presents!”

     

    “Awesome!” replied Casper, as he walked on the roof to the chimney.

     

    And as he flew down the chimney to surprise the Trio, they were not all surprised.

     

    “Casper?!!” all three of them shouted in shocked unison. “You, too? Should’ve known your goody-goody friend would’ve taken you with her to do something like this!”

     

    “Yup,” replied the ghost, nodding his head. “Your own little nephew is Santa’s little helper, and trust me, it’s been fun!”

     

    “Well, don’t just stand there,” added Wendy. “Open up your gift! You’ll love it!”

     

    And the ghosts tore through the wrapping paper of the gifts as if they were the Tasmanian Devil in triplicate, and as soon as they found out what they got, words failed them as to describe how much they liked them.

     

    “Oh, wow!” said Stretch, examining the gift.

     

    “Personalized shirts? With our names on them?” gasped Fatso in awe. “And Wendy gave us our own logo on th’ front!”

     

    “And so comfortable, too! Just our size!” added Lazo, sporting the shirt with a satisfied look on his face.

     

    And as they admired their gifts, all Wendy and Casper could do was watch how happy they were, really big smiles on their faces.

     

    “So, what’cha think?” asked Casper. “Like ‘em?”

     

    “Like them? Like them?” replied Fatso. “Why, ‘like’ is too commonplace and generic a word to describe the sheer greatness of a gift like this! Personally, I think ‘love’ is a better word to use here, don’t you think so, bros?”

     

    “Mm-hmm!” hmmed the other two uncles in agreement.

     

    “I knew you’d like ‘em!” replied Wendy. “You know, I made those a while back, but I saved them until now, just for you!”

     

    “Well, thanks, Wendy… or should we say, ‘Wendy Claus’!” said the Trio in unison. “So much better than a signed copy of one of Casper’s sissy books- no offense, Casper!”

    “None taken,” replied the friendly ghost.

     

    “Well, we’d best be going now!” said Wendy. “Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Joyeux Noel, Buon Natale, Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Everyone, and all of that other stuff that’d be redundant if I kept going on! So, ’til next time, as Casper’s cousin Spooky might say, ‘au reservoir!’”

     

    And so, having delivered the last present, Casper and Wendy zoomed into the night sky to report back to Mrs. Claus.

     

    “Y’know, good buddy,” said Wendy. “We done good tonight. Delivered all those gifts on time, made this holiday season the merriest ever, and made everybody happy, even the Grinch! Now, that’s something to be proud of, which I most certainly am!”

     

    “You bet,” replied Casper. “This must’ve been one of the greatest things that ever happened to us in all our young lives! Take my word for it, Wend! Tomorrow’ll be great and all, but not as exciting as actually helping you be Santa for the year!”

     

    And an hour or so later, they finally made it to Santa’s workshop, where Mrs. C. was standing by the door.

     

    “Wendy! Casper!” she cheered as she ran towards the two as they got out of the sleigh. “How did it go? Did the children get all their presents in time?”

     

    “Went great!” assured Wendy, giving the “O.K.” sign with her hand. “Methinks we done good, don’t you think so, Casper?”

     

    “You bet your sweet bippy they did!” he added.

     

    “Well, that’s a relief!” Mrs. Claus replied. “Since you two did such a good job taking the place of my husband, how about you two get to do this if he ever takes ill around this time again?”

     

    “That would be a pleasure, ma’am!” said Wendy happily.

     

    “Well, we’d best be going home now!” she added, getting out her wand. “Goodbye, Mrs. Claus! Hope our paths cross once again sometime soon!”

     

    “Goodbye, Wendy and Casper!” called Mrs. Claus.

     

    Wendy waved goodbye and after that, poof! she and Casper were back in the Enchanted Forest.

     

    “Say, Wendy,” asked Casper once they were back home. “How’s about a little something for my bestest friend in the whole world?”

     

    “I’d like that very much!” enthusiastically replied Wendy.

     

    “Well, before I give you your Christmas present,” said the ghost. “Close your eyes, and don’t go opening your little peepers until I say so!”

    “Will do!” said Wendy.

     

    And the witch closed her eyes, real tight-like, and about 10 minutes later (or maybe 11, I’m not all that good at math), Casper gave her the signal to open her eyes again.

     

    “Open your eyes, Wendy, because here comes your big surprise!” he said happily. And from behind his back he gave her a little drawing of the two of them in the air, Wendy sitting in the sleigh, Casper flying about as her personal reindeer.

     

    “Why, Casper!” said the witch, smooching her ghost buddy as her way of saying “thanks”. “I may not be too crazy about art, but I know what I like, and this is art! Happy holidays, good buddy.”

     

    “The same to you, Wendy!” replied Casper.

     

    And so our two friends wished each other a happy holiday and went off to get some shut-eye, because it's only natural they should feel a bit bushed after delivering tons of presents to everyone, all over the world. And it is here, when we end our "Witchmas" special, and bid adieu to our supernatural best of friends until next time. So until then...

     

    THE END

    AND REAL EARLY WISHES FOR A HAPPY HOLIDAY

    (OH, WHY DIDN'T I DECIDE TO WRITE THIS DURING THE HOLIDAY SEASON??)

     

     

    (Oh, and for posterity, thought I'd post the comic cover that inspired this little saga):

    E61qSK5.jpg

     

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