Teh Emoo placidly chewed its cud.

It rather liked it here. The ducks were pretty. The grass was plentiful.

Perhaps it would stay.

Raise an emoo family.

It walked a few feet to find some clover.

[ooc: open for park-ish needs, but the emo may be stronger this close to Teh Emoo. . . .]

Lastly, we have Artie. The strongest man in the world.

( who used latex, detergent, and red food coloring to make a fake cut to the info post I already wrote at the beginning of the summer )

Yay! I'm done now! I promise!

Somewhere on the island there was wretched, wretched emo, and a lot of it.

To counter act this, Artie was outside his porta-home with a tetherball set up, using his head to bounce it around. Mortimer fluttered about on the other side in a confused manner.

How did Artie playing tetherball by himself counteract emo?

Lord only knows. But here's hoping he'll succeed.

Artie was harrassing the ducks again.

There was no trace of exploded head of Gentleman on his striped uniform, though the enthusiasm in his shouts might indicate that he was quite glad to be able to speak again.

Then again, he's always enthusiastic, so maybe it doesn't.

[ooc: openinated]

"No, Mortimer! That's not how we play this game! When you move, I eat the game piece!"

. . .

"I will return your memory to you someday. Gertrude and Ernest miss you!"

. . .

"I do not sell aluminum siding! Don't be ridiculous! If you're going to be like that, then I won't play with you anymore!"

[ooc: just establishing that Artie is still diligently working away to get his poor bug's memory back.]

Okay, so, um, just to let folks know what's the what, here.

( cut because I tend to babble, 'specially about Artie )

Thanks!

ETA for the Dadaists This means that this is pretty much the one week when Artie would give people detention. Let me know if you'd be up for having detention with V this weekend.

Info posts are the order of the day!

( So, who is this Artie guy, anyway? )

( Why's he in Fandom? )

( No, seriously, what's up with that? (how I write Artie) )

( What this means to you )

( Some Artie-isms )

( Okay, but what's up with the ducks thing? )

( Artie and fighting plots )

( NOT DIRTY!!! )

Okay, I'm done.

Questions? Comments?

Lemon scented.

( ETA )

Artie was out and about in the park with a butterfly net.

This might have something to do with those foul freaky feathered fiends, the ducks.

It also might have something to do with the fact that Mortimer, his buggy companion, is nowhere in sight.

It's Artie. Who knows, really?

[ooc: open for all your park/superhero needs]

Artie was performing a merry jig atop his porta-home. His usual red and blue outfit was replaced with an almost identical one in shades of green. He wore buckled shoes and a white plastic bowler with shamrocks on it. Mortimer wore a similar hat, only bug sized.

Artie paused for a moment, listening.

"Why, yes, Mortimer. A search for a pot of gold is a perfectly pipe plan!"

The weather was cool and the sky was cloudy, and Artie was canoing.

Mortimer the bug as also in attendence, flying in lazy circles at the end of its red thread leash, which Artie had thoughtfully tied to the bow of the boat.

Artie was serenading his friend, the bug, with a song. Though, being Artie, it was more of a spoken word rendition of the song.

( cut for lyrics )

Though the music is upbeat, the singing is somewhat melancholy, as though Artie were nostalgic for better days of summers and falls with a puny viking, beating up the ocean, delivering papers, searching for ice cream men, staying up late, fighting bowling balls.

Either that, or Artie just realllllly can't sing.