The Contributors in Reserve
When our original contributor team went to battle during the thoroughly-chronicled Blog Wars of Autumn, we brought in some excellent backups. We wanted to honor their contributions here. So we did. In this extravagant, public way.
Polonius comes from long line (a very long line) of wheelwrights in Northern Fenderplast. He loves a good meal, avoids big crowds, and enjoys the music of the sheep-gut-string minstrels of Birkplenter Pavilion. He loves studs-up football and has almost no bad habits.
L.L. likes to babysit and specializes in a kind word when a chap is down. He loves a souffle and a souflex with equal vigor and he hates the words “vigor,” “hate,” and “words.” His melodramatic lyric cycle on understated Mexican hats, So Long, Sombreros, is due out in 2054.
King Greyhead “Cracky” Layaboutski
Cracky likes to lay around on the beach and entertain ladies. Some say he’s cracked, but it may just be old age. He earned his nickname, interestingly enough, because of a childhood obsessive-compulsive avoidance of stepping on cracks in the pavement, an affliction shared by every other occupant of the planet. He enjoys a timeless tale, a spreading sail, and a seaborne gale. And naps.
Jellybean Highfive is one of the great figures in all of Math. Or Literature. It’s an ongoing debate, fractionous and protagonizing. He is an enigma wrapped inside a corn-dog, wrapped inside a hemp tote-bag teeming with malfunctioning calculators. His association with Story Warren is loose and controversial. His reclusive biographer is implicated.
Jack is a Story Warren legend. He enjoys a pipe, a pint, and pleasant tale for the little rabbits. He’s been the Storyguild Master for forty-two years (non-consecutive, due to the Sterling Revolt of 1988-93) and a Warren Champions League chess referee for thirteen months. Scurrilous rumors abounded in 1977 that his spectacles were an affectation. Jack brought all his power to bear on the opposition, calling in every favor. His efforts eventually led to a curt apology from his primary detractors and a surge in popularity that wouldn’t abate until 1988. He likes argyle socks, but realizes they are highly impractical.
Doc Smifferson is a legend at completing sentences, one of the best you will ever. He enjoys a pipe, a pinto bean, and a pleasant whiff of roasted rabbit. His mustache once stopped a war in the Middle-West during the most tense days after the one thing, but before that other. His soul patch was instrumental in the creation of the Winter Olympics, leading to its untimely death by the new Gillette Guillotine Ultra. His tie-knot is so big, you have to have a special license to wear it. Dr. Smifferson has read more books than most unborn children and believes in letting nature take its own course as regards snot.
This specimen is one of the reasons we need superheroes and bug spray. Sure, he looks sweet and even sports a very deceptive t-shirt. But he, together with his improperly-oriented hat-headed posse, wreaks havoc on the populace. With fun! That’s right. If you don’t have a smile on your face after meeting with Mr. Badgame, then you aren’t even having a pulsating. He comes from a distant land in space called Starland Spaceplanet. He loves justice, truth, good hygiene, and British soap operas.
Zakky is wise young lad with a special gift for seeking quiddity in all things. He and his friends like to sit a spell and then fly about the place with broomsticks, cleaning up. He spends his days on the fence against stark arts classes, but more certain about avoiding You Know Who. (His bookie.) He’s a good lad and we’re all thankful he’s alive.