- This is it: The cartoon that prompted the whole shebang (I’m looking at YOU, Cthulu Hand Luke! Oh, I know you think you’re safe over on your Facebook page, far from mine, but you’re not safe as you think. I Know People. And They Know People. And some of the People They Know apparently Know People You Know, because this lovely little effort showed up on my Facebook page a mere two days before Mother’s Day.
- I ask you: Is that fair? Is that right? Is that wise? Probably not. Almost certainly not. Definitely not. Your image prompted Research. And just look at this hot mess! What would your mother think? She’s probably calling mine right now to suggest group rates on family counseling…this isn’t about you, Ma. This is about me, and about a whole bunch of really funny pictures. At least I think they’re funny. But maybe not…
- Hey! I got you a present! And food! I have food to give you brunch! Forget the nasty blog. Forget Cthulu Hand Luke’s Mom. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Really.
Well. That got out of hand. Still, though, credit where credit is due. That picture is definitely what prompted a short conversation.
>>> The EVIDENCE<<<
(and !, too! Also!)
So there it is, in what looks like a tint of, Um… PMS 645ish, a much lighter tint of PMS 645ish, and PMS Cool Gray…about..8? 9? screened way back. That’s close (and yes they really ARE called “PMS Colors.” Stop snickering. I can’t help it. It’s just the way is.)
So there I am, left alone on Facebook because if Aaron has any sense, and I know he does, he’s sure as heck not sitting at his computer mulling over what Grendel might do for his Mom on Sunday.
But I have to. It’s my job. Or at least it’s how my brain works. So now I have to Google Grendel and his mom and see what’s up with them. It isn’t pretty.
So there’s Grendel, down at the Hallmark, looking for just the right card. He finally decides to make one and just when he’s finishing it who should show up but Beowulf, who should either be looking for his pants or a card for his own mom, but he’s left it to the last minute, as usual, and now he’s even missed Fedex, so he figures what the hell, I’ll tell Mom the ship must have gone down when I see her. And then he sees Grendel, and he’s all up in his face, like “What’re YOU doing here? Your Mom can’t even read,” and Grendel’s all “My mom can so read!” And Beowulf’s all, “Not this card she can’t . What’d you do, rip off a grocery bag and write it yourself?” And Grendel’s all, “So what if I did?” And Beowulf’s all, “Geez I don’t believe you. Gimme that!” And he grabs for it, but Grendel won’t let go, so Beowulf grabs his arm and tries to get the card THAT way, and then the manager shows up and says, “You boys forget something this morning?” And Grendel goes, “Huh? And Beowulf says, “Dude you got man-boobs–and you forgot your pants.” And Grendel says, “Did not. You stole THEM, too!” And Beowulf says, “I ain’t stole nothin’.” And the manager says, “Security? Security? We’ve got a situation on the card aisle.” And Beowulf yanks super hard on Grendel’s arm, and grabs the card off his claw, and beats feet for the exit. Grendel does, too, but the security guy follows the trail of blood right to Grendel’s mom’s house, which is where he’s going, just as fast as his feet will carry him.
Well. That was a little more than I bargained for. The full Monty on both Beowulf and Grendel. I wonder where that Hallmark store is…No! Stop! Don’t be shallow! Beowulf might have it goin’ on in the naked superhero department, but he’s sure not going to be winning any “Mr. Personality” prizes any time soon. I mean, he even steals poor Grendel’s pathetic homemade grocery bag card! Enough! Let’s forget Beowulf and see what’s happening at Grendel’s Mom’s house.
Oh, look–there’s Grendel now! And what’s that he’s got? A skull? For his mom? For Mother’s Day? We all knew he wasn’t exactly known as the brains of the bog, but still…a skull? Really? Still no pants, I see, but then, again, it’s obvious he’s trying to evade the clutches of either Beowulf or the Hallmark security guy, though why the Hallmark guy might still be on his trail is anybody’s guess, unless he stole that skull from the remaindered Halloween decorations bin.
“Ma? Ma? Happy mother’s day,” says Grendel. “I brung ya somethin.’ Here.” And he hands over the skull, which now is shiny and slimy and pretty rank from making the trip tucked into Grendel’s armpit.
“What the hell is that?” growls Grendel’s Mom. “A skull? Ya brung me a skull? When you know I already got a whole closet full a the damn things? For this ya pull me away from “Wheel of Fortune?” Sheesh! Get a clue!”
“Oh! I forgot…I brung ya this, too!” says Grendel.
“Now you’re talkin’!” shouts Grendel’s mom. She is out of her recliner like a shot, and her hands are wrapped around the beautiful, jewel-studded heart-shaped box of chocolates, which we suddenly understand are the reason the Hallmark security guy has persevered in his quest. Grendel collapses into his mom’s recliner and thumbs the remote. A beautiful blonde girl in a red bathing suit runs toward him out of the sea. She shakes back her mane of wet blonde locks. The shakes translate themselves in an interesting fashion throughout her body. All that shaking is probably why Grendel misses the battle royal happening at the door, where his mom is defending her home, her chocolates, and incidentally her son from the savage attack being waged by the security guy.
And then Grendel’s mom lets out a terrible scream.
The girl on the TV stops shaking.
“Hey!” says Grendel. He looks toward the commotion. “HEY!” he says again, when he realizes that the security guard who has just buried his sword into the back of MaGrendel’s neck bears more than a passing resemblance to Beowulf.
And suddenly Grendel Sees All. He understands that this has all been a Cunning Plan devised by the Beastly Beowulf Boys, a plan that will allow them to give their mom a nice card, a box of chocolates, and, as a sort of side treat, various fragments of dismembered monsters. For a moment he wonders if MaBeowulf is building her own monster from a kit, and has lost a couple pieces or something.
But then MaGrendel screams again and collapses to the floor as the sword pierces the back of her neck. The security guard loses his grip on sword and neck–but not on the chocolates–and flies across the room. His head meets the wall with a wet, squishy thud. The box of chocolates at last flies free and smashes to the floor beside the recliner. Chocolates glistening with red cherry liqueur roll everywhere. Grendel’s mouth waters. Then he sinks back and sighs. The box is right beside the recliner, well within reach. But it’s on the side where his arm is missing.
So there it is–what Grendel did for Mother’s Day. You do something nice for your mom. No skulls. Chocolates are good, as long as she’s not diabetic. Happy Mother’s Day. And HMD to you, too, Cthulu Hand Luke.