ZooStuck

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

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There. You spent three weeks working on this blog post explaining the cotton candy industry's sinister plot without actually explaining said plot in a way anyone could understand, and managed to do it while not mentioning the Quetazls despite their heavy involvement everywhere up and down the line. And you did it all in excruciating detail, not eating any cheese the whole time.

You're feeling pretty confident nobody's going to read this post. Just like you wanted it. And nobody's going to read about the process of putting it together. You spent three weeks on that while ignoring potential perspective shifts, and not even leaving your house or looking out the front window.

Consequently, you haven't taken any notice of the huge crowd of characters gathering in your front yard. For that matter, you are completely oblivious the sinister plot that has been woven around you, and will culminate the moment you actually publish this post that no one will read.

Which you'll do at 3 AM. Any other time is way too mainstream for you.

You are now Zoosmell Pooplord again. You are in the front yard of some dead hipster's house in Oregon.

With you are your dad, who seems to be involuntarily breathing fire; some weirdo who was fighting your dad for a while and is constantly pelvic-thrusting; some weird animal you've never seen before wearing your favorite hat; a four-armed, three-legged lizardman in a space helmet (who keeps passing gas); a four-armed, four-legged, gas-passing lizardman carrying a pizza; a sun nun carrying a sign that says "I AM A FOUR-ARMED THREE-LEGGED LIZARDPERSON" in one hand and a big pile of packages in the other; a second sun nun dressed like a lawyer and carrying a big pile of packages; a chain-smoking guy in a hospital gown wearing black leather pants; some well-dressed rich gentleman and rich lady; a Sun Frenchman; the entire government of Sun France arguing about some bill or other; Sun Lance Armstrong; a guy carrying a bad ideas ray; and an undead pterodactyl dentist-lawyer.

Meanwhile, up in the sky above, a giant flying fortress made of cardboard is fighting a giant planet-ship, apparently over ownership of a floating restaurant. You've got no idea what the deal is there.

In fact, you don't know why anyone else is here. You're only here because, through an unlikely and incredibly dramatic series of events, you discovered that your "pal" stupidJerk was actually working for some unknown nefarious entity. You don't know the details, all you've managed to figure out is that stupidJerk was working with the Sun God and some tattooed lizardman and some old lady who lives in a farmhouse, and collectively they were manipulating events so that the dead hipster in this house would post something on his blog. So naturally, you have to stop it, even if you're not sure what this blog post is actually going to do.

So what's the plan, Pooplord?