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Xangles Blorkk: Mulg - depth 3

Urgg Adults
Urgg Kids
Frwoa Watchers

Frwoa-watcher Watchers (like watching Mystery Science Theatre)

    Pass the orange mulg please.
    Classic opening line.  Just classic.
    Some friter only wrote that line in as propoganda that this frwoa will be classic some day.
    Have you seen this frwoa before?
    Freen.
    What?
    You should say, have "you freen this frwoa before?"
    That's idiodic.  Why should I say that?
    It's the blinker collective consensus on what word should be used for referring to the seeing slash reading slash watching of a fractal work of art, or "frwoa."
    
Yes yes, we all know what a frwoa is.
    Some people don't.
    Like who?
    Like all the Earth freeners.
    Don't use that word.  I hate that word.
    What a stupid word.
    And it's only the consensus of the fourth circle of blinkers on the nonexistent tenth moon of Pluto Nine anyway.
    That's good enough for me.
    ...And it was only coined after the seventh failed Urgg invasion of Earth because people were so sick of sending the Urgg to obtain the self-destruct code to Xangles.com that they just decided to get used to the existence of the saga.

    That's what the Urgg invasion was all about?
    Yes, the final ending epiphany of the original Blorkk/Urgg saga was that the nine mysterious strange and powerful device artifacts that the saga hinged on, were actually the nine audio CDs themselves, just like the meaning of all the Frangles stories turn out to be exactly what they are in Frangles Nucleus: existent people and characters who are running around for the sole purpose of promoting Frangles frwoa sales.  Basically the reason anybody in a fictional world is ever running around.
    But that includes everyone, right?  Even us?
    Exactly.
    And the Earthers?
    Well, not them, they're basically at the top.
    Either that or they're just too paranoid to imagine that there are people always watching them.
    Except for the schizophrenics.
    Yes, of course them.
    So, how's the invasion of Earth going, dear?
    Yah what's the whole point of that anyway, Dad, the teachers at school won't tell us.

    Blurka, Choggig, I've told you a thousand times, I detest discussing interplanetary invasion at the dinner table.  We'll talk later.
    We all know why that is.
    Some people don't.
    Like who?
    Like all the Earth freeners.
    What's this Earth you guys are talking about again?
    You know, the blue-green planet in the sol system of the milkey way galaxy in the Okuaka ku?  Don't you pay attention?

    Mother, could you pass the green mulg?
    Mother, could you pass the green mulg... another classic line
    More idiotic propoganda.
    If you're quoting a line, you should use quotes.
    I thought quotes weren't allowed in the Blorkk ku.
    Only if you're quoting a statement or question.
    A question?
    You know, an inquisition.
    We were only trying to be inquisitive.  Please pass the blue mulg, Niglooc.
    That was one of the most putrid contrived passages in all of Blorkk to get from one word to the same word in the next depth line.  And for what?  It wasn't even funny.
    Touche.

    Well, quite frankly Margly, i'm getting sick of your inquisitivity.  And sick of you using it as an excuse.
    But Furgy, I was only trying to be apologetic.
    I was only trying to be apologetic.
    Father, could you pass the brick red mulg?
    I'm brickredimulgaphobic son.
    I'm so sick of all the Frangles/Xangles made up terms.  If this ever turns to a full Klingon or Elvish language, the whole universe is doomed.
    Why's that?
    Come on, you know, I was just, exaggerating.  You know, like a metaphor.
   
Metaphysics?
    No, "metaphor."
    What's a metaphor?
    It's like a xangle.
    A what?
    You know, any "angle x."
    Oh.
    Oh.
    Oh, right, I forgot.  Mother, could you pass it?
    
"Oh oh oh?"  Hmm, that reminds me of a bridge of a song.
    Sounds like a lame pop song.
    Sounds like the bridge of every lame pop song.
    Yes!  That's it!  It was a lame pop song.
    Which one?  There are infinite, you know.
    Something around Earth's twenty-first century...
    N'sync?
    Backstreet Boys?
    System of a Down?
    Bach?
    Jesse Mccartney's Leavin'?
    Yes!  That was the lame pop song!
    No, I meant, "Jesse Mccartney is leaving."
    Where?
    Oh, you know, I meant, someone named  Jesse Mccartney, somewhere in the universe, is relocating from some physical corporeal perception of external environment to some other physical corporeal perception of external environment, like from real life onto YouTube.
    But isn't that obvious?
    Welcome to Xangles.   
    Pass what?
    What I just asked father to pass.
    And what was that?
    I forget, but I know I wanted it.  I know it started with an 'm'...
    Mulg?
    Yes, that was it!  Could I have mulg?
    What color?
    Uh, hot pink, I suppose.
    That flarng ate the last of it.
    But I want pink mulg.
    Look here, just have some more purple mulg.
    And frankly margly, I'm getting sick of your apologeticity.
    Mother pass the thermostat mulg.
    I don't think that's a word, hon.
    Thermostat?
    No, apologeticity.
    I didn't say apologeticity.
    No, your father did.
    Then why did you--
    Just eat your thermostat, son.
    If it isn't a word, it durg well should be.
    Please pass the green forest mulg.
    Could you pass the purple mulg?
    Pass the orange-speckled mulg, Norgug.
    Mommy, I don't like this food.
    Just eat your mulg, Keelky.
    But I want yellow mulg, why can't we have yellow mulg?
    Ironic since his line is in yellow text.
    Appropriate, not ironic.  
    What?
    If you insist in speaking old Earth English, at least get the vocabulary right.
    But I've heard that term used a hundred times like that.
    That's because Earthers are idiots.  Irony is roughly defined to be that which is the opposite of what's expected.  Someone who crashes their car because they were distracted putting on their safety belt.  Now if an giant organic safety belt monster sneezes and blows all the cars off the road right when they were all heading for an invisible and fatal type seven temporal anomoly, that's appropriateness, not irony.
    What if some of the people die from the cars tumbling over eachother?
    Then it's both ironic and appropriate.
    Keelky, when I was your age we didn't have any yellow mulg, or hot pink mulg, all we had was mulg. Just plain mulg.  Oh, how I remember, every day we'd all wait by the padulor late afternoon to greet father as he came home with the mulg.  Just plain mulg.  none of this orange-speckled-polka-dotted-bikini-mulg.  Oh, i'll never forget what ol' grandaddy used to say, he would say: "Mulg Mulg Mulg!  Why do we have to eat so much gods damned mulg!"
    Wasn't his grandfather a mutated version of Kyle Kirby, from a remote xangle in a remote frwoa somewhere?
    No, Kyle only hallucinated that frwoa frangle in a bad nightmare.
    No, Kyle only hallucinated that frwoa frangle in a bad nightmare.   
    No, Kyle only hallucinated that frwoa frangle in a bad nightmare.
    Gringle, where did that come from?
    What?
    You just said something about Kyle Kirby; it was totally non-sequiter.  Where'd that come from?
    I don't know really, it was like a sort of echo riffing through my mind.  Like a bunch of other people were saying the same thing, and I felt compelled by peer pressure to join in.
    Can he hear us?  It was only two riffs.
    
Can Jym hear us?  It was only one riff from his xangle.
    Both Keelky and the guy who just spoke have a very light sense of being able to pick up things going on in adjacent dimensions.  Both develop full fracolic telepathy much later in their respective frwoas.
    "The guy who just spoke?"  Why not just call him Jym?
    Because a whole bunch of freeners are still in the carefully designed initial shock of absolute brain mangling bafflement as to what the hell is going on anywhere in Xangles.
    But I called him Jym right before your line.
    I was hoping it passed people that by.
    Well, now they know.
    And knowing is half the battle.
   
 G.I. Joe!
    What?
    Nothing.  Another riff echo.
    Just keep those to yourself.
    Unless you find some winning lottery numbers floating around the Fractal.
    Well of course not then.
    That reminds me, I won the lottery last week.
    We all did.  It was a krforb fluke.
    Great.  Just great.  Now I'm five million in debt.  Now I'll never be able to afford the temporal orb to travel back in time and alter this line of dialogue to deliver more contrivance, especially since time travel requires passing a cyan mulgon test.

    Gringle, pass the cyan mulg.
    "Cyan mulgon test?"  What's a--oh, I get it, you were creating your own contrivance by making up your own contrived, non-sequiter term.  It didn't pass me by.  In fact you might say it was more or less  totally invisible to me.  
    Could someone pass some more invisible mulg?
    Who said that?
    See?  I did it too.
    congrads.  Now shut up.

    Father, pass the flashing mulg, please.
    I want to know who said that.
    Mother, there's a kforb in my mulg.
    Classic.  Classic.  Classic.
     Propoganda.  Propoganda.  Propoganda.      Vpmy
    Just eat it, dear.
    Just deal with it, Bob.
    But the kforb's talking to me, mother.  it's saying...  Wait, I think it's in Spanglish...  No... Elvish... Klingon?  Ah!  Franglish!
    Um, mother, father, I have an announcement to make.
    Well, what is it Splurg?
    How many freaking kids do they have?
    Twenty-six.  The same number of dimensions the Earth space-time physicists of this time period were capable of counting up to, way before anyone propogates Kyle's theory of infinitely dimensioned space that he rips off from a voice in his head called Pico, which from an absurd Flutonian xangle is actually a gay transhyperdimensional frog named Jumper.
    Why answer him?  He can't hear us.
    I told you, Jym has mild fracolic perception.
    If memory serves, he's also trangusexual.  
    I'm bisexual.
    Son, if anyone at the table didn't figure that out tonight from the hot pink mulg alone, they need a couple int-fluton boosters.  Anyway, no one's perfect.  It's nothing to be ashamed about.  It just means you'll be more confused in life than the rest of us.  It's nothing fatal or anything.
    Mother, pass the laminated mulg please.
   
Laminated?  How do you laminate mulg?
    Are you joking?  It's humor.  This is a comedic frwoa.
    Oh!  I never realized that!  That explains so much!  Who are you, so versed in the ways of Earth-Urgg skit medium frwoas?
    I, sir, am the greatest Monty Python skit plagaristic monk in the entire Fractal.
    Well no one's perfect.

    I'm also a Xanglian Buddhist Republican.
    Like I said, no one's perfect.
    I like Macintoshes.
    Like I said.
    The Earth computers.
    Like I-- Like I said.
    I'm becoming a Vegan.
    I like traffic lights.
    I like traffic lights.
    Like I--
    I mean, a flutonian Vegan.
    I like traffic lights.
    I like traffic lights.
    What the hell are you singing?
    You'll find out in another frwoa depth.  It's an obscure Monty Python song, mostly contrived search engine material for Blorkk.com.  I think you'd really like it.
    
Like--
    A vegan fracologist actually.
    Choggig, can you pass the mustard.
    Oh, and I'm starting a scratch and sniff lich roleplaying game, except I think we could use another sense, like scratch and hear, or something, but we can't figure out what.
    I like traffic lights.
    I like traffic lights.
    Lik--
    And I've been studying the application of Earth's Simon and Garfunkle lyrics to "The Sound of Silence" at night before I go to sleep.
    
Wherever they have been.
    Li--
    And am starting to like the Earth logical symbol for 'not' in applcation to right-angle geomefralogica except I think I like it rotated 180 degrees.  In fact the most fascinating concept in that area is that of the self-sustained square, or half-square, some call it.
    I like traffic lights.
    I like traffic lights.
    L.
    Nobody but a couple Earth philosophers will get the joke that 'L' is the symbol for "not" rotated 180 degrees.
     Nobody in the known universe will get the joke that the symbol for "not" reduced in size fits into an 'L' to make a "right angle" math symbol.
    Mother, pass the forest-green mulg.
    And I just had my first period.  Kind of strange for a male but not too uncommon considering the bisexuality.  Anyway a period's the whole point of life really.  It made me think, if I was a period, I would be like a single dot in the entire connect-the-dot fractal...
    .
    And I'm getting good grades in grammar.  And I'm excelling in the phylo theory of nothingness.  Especially the part where something that turns to nothing usually begins inverting, which is sort of infathomable to us of course.  Sort of like when the last level of Pac Man on old Earth was beaten and the whole game went schizo 'cause no one had expected the memory to exceed 256 flutonegs, or terrabytes, or something.
    !%$_I_am_error
    Father, what the hell's wrong with you?  You're inverting to some kind of digital krforb code traffic.
    I like traffic lights.
    I like traffic lights.
    IFugrav_const=7.3openGiraffatekica77billavik250135330090180--
    Pst, Bob, doesn't the last of that look like the first five digits of the permutation of foci for the Kirby plush toy?  I heard that on the radio the other day navigating through a mess of Kirby news traffic.
    I like traffic lights.
    I like traffic lights.
    You might be right, and would you shut up, Bob?  You're such a dope.
    I'm also the key founder of a de-centralized underground terrorist organization resposible for multiple acts of mass destruction and extensive treaty violation involving many of our closest allies...
    Shame on you, child, I've always told you to centralize your crazy terrorist cults.  Keelky, pass the green mulg.
    Ironic because his line of text is colored green on Blorkk.com
     ...But only when they're green!
    
Would you shut up?  That's the worst song in Python musical history.
    But what about the last two?  What the hell?  How can any god or author or whatever from any frangle allow that?  5,040 permutations of foci strings and they leave us a 50/50.
    Or 40,404 if there's an eighth Frangles.
    Wait, I thought this was the 60,714th focus?
    It's different for everyone.  If you haven't learned that in 60,715 foci--
    But the franglefoci from our frangle are so short.  I mean, in 60,716 foci, there's still so much I don't understand.  Like Orb prime frwoa.
    Oh I get it!  The foci are going up one per line.  Every single line of dialogue is an entire fractal work of art somewhere.  Pure genius.
    Touche.
    Which frwoa?
    Orb Prime I.  Pluto Seven, 233rd billenia.  Like, how did they know which orbs were the death orbs and which were the death melons?  I don't understand how prime factors of a third of a nine digit sugar cereal circular UPC number told them this.
    Because it wasn't the factors, it was the number of prime factors.  An orb was trapped If any of the number of prime factors of the three-digit third of the nine-digit sugar UPC wasn't a power of a prime, except Orb Prime, and the dectagorb of prime ribb that Dez used against the Vegan army.
    So they weren't marked by prime numbers.
    Wasn't that explained in a Jesse Mccartney parody somewhere in an attempt at total non-sequiter humor?
     Probably the same xiter.
     Xiter?
     Xangles writer.
     Oh, that explains a lot.  Especially why this entire skit flashed in my head last night as I imagined that my parents were some fractal writers who'd pass their genes onto me.  

     Well, they were.  Because the number of prime factors of a prime is one, which isn't a prime power, so if a number had a prime, it was trapped, but that isn't the only thing that marks a trap.
    So that's why the system worked for them up to a certain point.
    Sorry, father.
    Dear, could you--
    I'm also black.
    No you aren't, you're green.
    Oh, so I am!  I could have sworn--
    Mother could you pass the seven-dimensional temporal transwarp thermodynamic giraffamulg?
    Father, pass the rainbow mulg?
    Leave the rest for Splurg, he's gay now.
    I'm bi.
    By who?  What frangle are they talking about?
    What's a frangle?
    He means a xangle.
    What's a xangle?
    It's like a frangle.
    What's a frangle?
    It's like a xangle.

    What's a xangle?
    Didn't the Flarg teach you anything in the quad-dimensional sextagon?
    I know a flarg that's quadsexual.  The flarg have seventeen genders.
    What?  How the hell do they--
    Don't ask him that.  He'll tell you.  It's very, very complex.  Lots of permutations.
    These number permutations, I get the really odd feeling that you're explaining something that isn't just jibberish, that it actually makes perfect sense, that perhaps from some frangle, someone writing our speech was so ticked off at the complex math of some great spherical--or maybe triangular--frwoa of his time.  Sphere?  Triangle?  Box?--that he figured all out, and wrote an entire book about this absurd orb-maze we're talking about, to the entire bafflement of the book he just inserted your explanation into because they'll just take it as the random jibberish I'm saying it isn't.
    But now they know.
    And knowing is half the battle.
 
    G.I. Joe!
    What?

    Anyway, backtracking, the Vegans; do you mean the solar system or the orthodox vegetarians?
    What's a permu-- nevermind.
    Nirvana?
    No, I'm the only Buddhist here.
    Can he hear us?  He can't hear us, can he?
    Hey, what's the plate for?
    The cheesecake... no wait, the mulg.
    You can't quote an obscure high school television production video which only about three people on Earth will get if this were some book on Earth.
    Maybe it isn't.
    That's actually pretty likely, considering that's just one frangle out of evey possible frangle.  It's like, infinitely minus infinitesimally likely.  That seems 100% but it's really not...
    You've been studying fracolics too much.
    See the proof goes, if you were to hold a fractal-wide lottery and pick one soul out of the infinite beings there are--
    There are seventeen, not infinite.
    --someone would have to win.  So if you were that person, you'd never believe it, because you'd basically think the chance was zero.  But since someone must win, then a one in infinity chance doesn't equate to zero.  See?
    Is that how we all won the lottery?
    Yah, something like that.  I think it was an I.D. krforb.
    I.D.?
    Infinitely dimensioned.  Grolk told me about it while he was high one night.

    You've been drinking with Gunkwub too much.  How many Earth drinks have you tried by now anyway?
    This feels like a contrived set up for a later joke.
    Shh, don't worsen the contrivance by acting like the xiter's covering it up.
    Well you're making it worse yourself.
    So are you, with that.
    Well I didn't say I really cared.
    Neither did I.
   
I do.
    Then why are you worsening it?
    No, I mispoke aloud.  I was getting married in a krforb somewhere on Pluto Ten.
    Idiot, no one anywhere, ever, is supposed to know about Pluto Ten.
    Well now they know, and knowing is--
    Just shut up.
    Fine, let's just both shut up.
    Alright.
    Stop it!
    Well, we graffimported some Goldschlogger... SKYY, Skynet...
    The xiter who wrote this got drunk on Goldschlogger once.
    What a useless bit of information.
    Mother, could you pass the mulg a la mode...
    Son, pass the mulg.
    Wha-- Which one, father?
    Uhhh... that one.
    This one?
    No, that one.
    Blueberry Smirnoff... Smurf Smirnoff...
    Smurfs?  The terrorist Kroffonian plush toys of Pluto Two?  I thought--
    Shut up!  The freeders can see us.  We're not supposed to be in this depth.
    ****.  Pik, quick pass the temporal nanonanonor.
    Which one?  This one?
    No, that one.
    This one?
    Nope.  Riiiiight there.
    That octalaser pointer isn't helping, Dad.  Use your grumple.
    There.
    Here?
    No, there.
    Mother, could you pass the webcam-flavored mulg?
    Urgg, Earth, Flarg, or Kroffonian webcam?
    Uh, Flarg...  No wait, Kroffonian.
    Too late.
    Damnit.
    After after Shock--  Kyllalalua--
    Anyway, it was both, the Vegans were vegetarians.
    So they were double Vegans.  That really clears up a lot.  But I still don't get how the tanks navigated the sphere maze without knowing which orb was Orb Prime.
    That was primarily a secret revealed in Orb Prime Double Prime 7: The Kroffonian Orb-Foci vs Godzilla and the Quest for a Less Tacky and More Creative Word than 'Godzilla' to Lessen the Lazy, Lame, and Ludicrous Pun that a Frwoa About This Frwoa Would Use if it Were Used in the Title.
    Ludicrous?  Didn't he know 50-Cent?
    Shut your grumple, Bob.
    I don't have a grumple.
    You will.
    You see, Cheddar had initially woken in the corner orb with the ultimatum note tacked to the house plant that said "Tell anyone that this is the origin of the orb labyrinth during the course of the filming of this reality horror show and the last thing your little plush Kroffonian buddies will see is the blades of an upside down lawn mower, a bucket of petrolium and a lit match.
    Poor Cheddar.
     I knew Cheddar.  He was such a dutz.
    We're just freeders.  How do you know a character?
    You know how Xangles bends back on itself and intermingles realities.
    How could I forget.
    Father, pass the blue mulg.
    I've told you a thousand times, Keelky, I'm colorblind.
    Another classic line.  My favorite in the entire Blorkk frwoas.
    If that's so it doesn't exactly inspire me to read them.  I suffered through fourteen other bad Xangles and I think I'll blink to oblivion if I have to read another.
    Oh I forgot.  Mother, could you pass it?
    Oblivion?
    You know, Frangles 8.  Didn't you pass Frangles 101?
    Pass what?
    What I just asked father to pass.
    And what was that?
    I forget, but I know I wanted it.  I think it started with an 'm'...
    Mother, could you pass the-- thg-- tnghh!--
    Oh my God Chogig's choking!
    How ironic.
    And plutonic.
    Mnemonic?
    Mnemonia!
    Wine-- and-- beer!
    Wow, you are gay.  Except for the beer I guess.
    I knew it!  The booze was all leading up to an obscure quote from the Earth musical Rent!
    Three screens of contrivance set up for a gay musical joke?

    What's with all the gay humor in this frwoa?  Is this a bored gay friter or blatant homophobia?
    Both.  Neither.  Sort of one or the other.  You know Frangles.
    Xangles.
    What?
    I am so lost.  Can I quit this frwoa?  Is there a quit button?  Someone hit 'quit.'  Do you have the instruction manual to this thing?  Jym?
    How do you know Chogig's choking?  He kinda looks like he's having an orgasm or something.
    Chogig!
    He's dead--
    --Jym?
    Oh, sorry, here.
    Was that a Star Trek quote?  That was a Star Trek quote, wasn't it.  Or was it Battlestar Galactica?  Something Six once said?...
    After six lines of dialogue?  That doesn't seem possible.  Doesn't take a certain amount of time to suffocate?
    It was the grape mulg... it was poisoned.
    I mean did you even check him or are you just guessing?
    What are we going to do?
    This must be Gurglop's work.  I should call Tofeg...
    Even with a freak level six temporal anomoly, I just don't think it's possible to choke to death in six lines of dialogue.  And how the hell can you tell it was poisoned from looking at it?  You're guessing about that too, aren't you?
    It might be possible with a level nine.
    I still think he died of an organism.
    What a way to exit to the great oblivion.

    Hit--damnit, we exited into the Mulg skit again.  Hit exit again.
    I can't find the exit button.
    Maybe it's that one.
    Nope.
    If it was an orgasm, how did-- how did he...
    What?
    You know.
    Oh, well he wasn't exactly keeping both grumples on the table like the rest of us.
    Both grumples?  Gods of Florbb, I've been missing out on half the organisms I could have been having on my orb Blorkk vacations.
    What's an orgasm?
    It wasn't an orgasm.
    Hon, throw all this mulg in the fridge, I have to make some calls immediately, this is serious.
    What about the grape mulg?
    Well obviously not the grape mulg... You'll pay for this, Gurglop, you'll pay for the death of my son.  You'll pay.  You'll pay.
    Now we've sunken from contrivance to total and utter watered down sci-fi cliches.
    I still think it was an orgasm.
    Oh, shut your grumple.
    What's a grumple?
    Are you kidding?  It's... you're kidding, right?  Alright, just... no.  Look, where-- where the hell did you get-- would you hold still?  Alright, there, look.  See?
    Great Urgg!  I never noticed I had one of those!  That explains so much!
    Still think you're bi?
    Oh great, now it's teleporting us somewhere.
    What makes you think that?
    The giant looming shadow that looks like it's about to swallow all existence.

    No, I think that's just 'cause it's the last few lines of the chapter.
    Ohh.
    Pff.  Newbies.

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