This morning I had a horrible thought.
What? At least I had one, okay?
Where in the world is WON-KEY (alias Smith and Jones Squee and Key).
The last time I saw him, he was in Arkansas.
WON-KEY BUSTED!
Poor little guy. Given so much freedom, so many miles to travel, so many unattended bananas in the wee hours after Starbucks closed.
What’s a hungry Won-Key with a Banana addiction to do?
Steal them, of course.
.
Which is what he did. Which is what landed him in the slammer. Which is what caused the judge to confine him in a posh rehab center for Banana Addicts.
I missed him.
I searched for a Furry Mascot Support Network.
Who knew I would find one among Kristen Lamb’s Blogging-to-Build-Brand classmate and #WANA112 network? What are the odds?
In the absence of Dr. Sheldon Cooper’s statistics, we’ll simply say, “slim.”
[I asked him, okay? Sheldon said it was a stupid question. Stupid questions make him sad.]
Mike Schulenberg also has a fetish for love of odd adorable fuzzy mascots and offered to tell his story.
MEET MIKE SCHULENBERG
Mike Schulenberg writes speculative fiction exploring friendship and strength in a universe on the verge of devouring itself. He is a creator and destroyer of worlds.
He is also a friend of cats.
Mike left his own site Realms of Perilous Wonder to hang out on my hammock today.
.
WHO NEEDS A FISH NAMED WANDA?
by Mike Schulenberg
We met one afternoon in our local grocery store, near the produce section. I had just run in, intending to pick up a light lunch before returning to work.
She mesmerized me when I saw her.
Her rich, vibrant colors drew me staggering toward her like a zombie to brains, my arms outstretched to pull her from the steel cage that trapped her with several others. Her head and tail were the color of lime sherbet, her side fins the blue of a cloudless sky, and her body the orange of a setting sun. She gazed up at me with the one hypnotic eye that was not hidden by the other side of her head.
Did I forget to mention she’s a stuffed animal an artificial creature? A fish tall enough to tower over many small children if only she were not too floppy to stand upright on her tail fins.
“Take me home with you,” her lips of red vinyl seemed to whisper.
“Right, off we go.”
I tucked her under one arm and went deeper into the store, searching for food.
In one of the aisles, a kindly grandmother halted me to better admire the fish’s radiant majesty. “Aww, whoever that’s for is going to love it,” she said.
I grinned at her. “It’s for me, and I already do.”
With future lunch in one hand and resplendent artificial creature in the other, I approached the cash register and placed her on the conveyor belt so that she rested comfortably on her belly. The cashier checked out each customer in front of me, conveying the fish forward by increments until payment united us in a grand destiny.
She dominated the conveyor with her awesome splendor, and witnessing the spectacle of her majestic ride made it well worth the $25 USD.
For a long time, she reposed on a tie-dye bean bag I used to have in my cubicle at a previous place of employment. Eventually I brought her home to recline in a papasan chair, where she is still enthroned today, watching against evil with whatever eye happens to be facing outward at that particular moment.
She didn’t get her name until much later. A friend and I used to play Scrabble online. Using rather lenient rules, we allowed ourselves to use proper names.
During one harrowing game, my friend positioned herself to crush me like an egg in an iron fist. I considered my letters: Q-G-U. I studied the game board. I considered the letters again.
What could I possibly do with these?
I deployed the letters anyway.
“What does QEGU mean?” she messaged.
“Qegu is the name of my giant artificial fish,” I replied.
“I didn’t know her name was Qegu.”
“I named her that just now.”
I sensed her eyes rolling at the other end of the internet, but she went along with it.
I don’t remember if I won that Scrabble game or not.
But really, Qegu was the winner because she finally got a name.
She is a noble and mighty fish, even if she dresses a lot like Fred Flintstone.
Picture Courtesy of YOGI BEAR WIKI
Thanks for having me on your blog, Gloria! I had a lot of fun.
Thanks for your visit, Mike, and for the support you’ve provided during these trying times. There’s a posse looking for Won-Key now. The judge has agreed to release him into the custody of Brinda Berry. (He’s getting close to Little Rock. Woot!)
Readers, when Mike sent me this post, my first thought was, “Qegu?”
My second thought took me to the seedy side. “That chick must really have the hots for you, Mike, if she let you get away with Qegu.”
“Nah,” he said. “She knew she was going to beat me anyway. It was a pity pass.”
Do you have anything odd cute and cuddly hanging around your house as an inspiration for a post, a letter, a day of productive writing? Have you gotten away with an intentionally misspelled or inventive word in Scrabble? I have. It’s fun!
Leave some Qegu and Won-Key comment love so we know you were here. And, make sure to visit Mike at his site. LIKE him while you’re there. Trust me. He’s a likeable guy. But, DO NOT play Scrabble with him. He’s far too sneaky inventive.
Gloria Richard 
Hark, if only Shnorty were artificial. I was stuffed after dinner, last night… does that count?
Killer lines, Mike. Who could resist those red red lips? $25USD? In Canada, Qegu would be priceless.
I will have to go to your site, if not out of sheer politeness, then out of sheer curiosity. Gloria promised I’d hear your story, and instead I heard Qegu’s. I’m off to learn more!
Oh! Oh! Definitely visit Mike’s site, but also get a look at his post on fellow WANA112, Laird Sapir’s site (Shabby Chic Sarcasm). Mike did a review there For science, review of The Twilight Series.
Thanks again for having me on your blog, Gloria, and for the plug for my Twilight review. I might have to do the next book one of these days 🙂
Thanks, Sherry. I believe you’ll find that Qegu’s story IS my story, since our destines are intertwined, at least for the moment 😉
What a fun way to name your fish, super story!
Fun is one way to put it, Catherine. Desperate is another. Evil? Nah. That’s a stretch. Thanks for visiting!
Now I know Mike is destined for fame. He gave his kid a Hollywood funky name.
Thanks, Catherine!
Mike,
I bet the Grandma thought about that all day after bumping into you. I do not have a Qegu to keep my company while I write, but today may be the day (right after I spring the infamous Won-Key from the Banana Addiction Rehab Center). I, too, am slightly suspicious and impressed with your ability to convince the Scrabble partner to accept this name. It sounds fishy. lol
Nice word play, Brinda!
Take good care of Won-Key. No bananas. Once you’ve gone bananas…
Well, let’s just say he can’t have another banana. Nuts are okay.
MUST research alternative foods for the little guy. And, yes, he’ll want a cute little playmate when he gets to the SBUX near you.
Off to find where you are today on your blog tour with Whisper of Memory. I want to win that Kindle. So, readers, do NOT go to Brinda’s site to hop on her tour. I must keep the odds down.
Well, like I mentioned, we were playing Scrabble with pretty generous rules, and although I don’t remember who won that game, I figure it was probably my friend, who could afford to be generous by letting play “Qegu.”
You wouldn’t make it at our Scrabble table, that’s for sure. But few do. I love the name, but it took a minute playing with the sounds to prounouce the letter Q without a U. English speakers are a little inflexible with the rules. She’s gorgeous and definitely deserves the throne of the papasan!
Why, thank you. She’s pretty pleased to suddenly have all this attention 🙂
Hey, Jessica! Sounds like there’s a tough rule wielder at the Scrabble table in your house.
Have I mentioned I’ve rarely met a rule I didn’t want to break?
NOTE TO SELF: You will have a headache should Jessica ever invite you to play Scrabble.
It is now official, Gloria. Not only are you “touched” but you are surrounded with others who are bent slightly down the middle, cheat at Scrabble and name inanimate stuffed writing mascots.
Mike, how does poor Qegu survive as a fish out of water? I mean don’t you think she needs the briny depths to keep her colors vibrant? Maybe you should at least get her a tank 🙂
She moisturizes a lot 😉
SNORT!
Um. Florence? Perhaps you mistook my meaning when I said, “I’m touched.”
And, if I were “touched” in the other sense of the word, it would not be down the middle. I can’t even walk a straight line.
No. I did not discover that during a field sobriety test.
You have a kindred spirit here, Gloria!
While my mascot is certainly a sentient creature, I am more than enamored by her charm and ability to transform my day and mood. Thank you, Jesus, for giving us sweet creatures to love. 🙂
Animals are pretty awesome like that 🙂
Too true, Mike — really enjoyed your story; I read it as my eyelids were slowing pulling themselves apart. Delightfully zany way to start my day . . . thank you.
Thank you for the compliment, and it was my pleasure…I’m glad you enjoyed it 🙂
Waving frantically, Cara! Hi!
So glad you popped in to read the story of Qegu. Always a pleasure to bring a little sunshine to your day.
Pingback: Guest Post @ Gloria Richard’s Blog | Mike Schulenberg
HA! I felt like I was right there with you, Mike, as you bought the-fish-who-would-be-named-later-in-a-cheating-game-of-Scrabble. Qegu, huh? Fascinating.
I think we all know who my writing mascot is – he-who-must-not-know-the-location-of-my-writing-cave (at least for now), though I did have a travel mascot on a road trip to the Tetons. My friends and I bought Mr. Murdoch, a small white bear, at a Titanic museum gift shop. He managed to survive camping among thousands of mosquitos, hiking, and kayaking on that trip only to go missing a year later when my friend went snowshoeing.
Sorry to hear you lost Mr. Murdoch. He sounds like a brave traveling companion. I suppose his destiny called him elsewhere, for whatever reason.
Yes, you might be right. In naming him Mr. Murdoch after one of the Titanic crew that perished in the Atlantic probably didn’t do him any favors, though. 🙂
Tami! Condolences on Mr. Murdoch.
I think it’s elementary, my dear Clayton. A small, cute, white bear disappears on a snowshoe adventure. I suspect a barren bear with strong maternal instincts recently emerged from hibernation with her ‘offspring.’
If you see Mr. Murdoch while Mama’s around,
kiss yourspeak softly, back away, and do not make eye contact.Good advice, Gloria. I think you are right about the mama bear. I can only hope Mr. Murdoch is in a better place these days.
Awesome story, Mike!
We don’t have a giant fish, but we DO have a giant bumblebee who sticks his tongue out. His name is Larabee (Obviously!)
Are you sure he’s not a zombee? 😉
It would explain a lot. Is there a home test I can do that will give me conclusive results?
Yeah, I think you just lean toward him and see if he bites your brain 😉
That sounds dangerous. I need the remaining brains I have!
Do all zombies eat brains? Don’t they get tired of them?
I suspect they prepare the brains in imaginative ways: brains soup, brains casserole, brains tacos, etc.
fried brains, sautéed brains in puff pastry with delicate cream sauces, brains strudel, brains parmigana… gosh. The options really are limitless!
We could open a new restaurant called Zom-Bistro 🙂
That sounds Zom-B-Licious! 🙂
Are these bumblebee raspberries unprovoked, Laird?
If yes, do not approach Larabee from behind.
I try not to approach Larabee at all, really. And now that he has a giant penguin (Perd the Bird) standing guard, I rarely go into the same room as Larabee. (Between Perd and my son’s blocks and legos, the room really has become a dangerous landscape.) 🙂
I have no Qegu, no other stuffed otherworldly creatures in my office. BUT- I have a Sophie and a Bella who occasionally remind me it’s time for a walk.
And they listen to me with rapt attention without any judgement at all. Can’t beat that.
That does sound like a pretty good deal 🙂
Ah! Sweet memories of last September. Quality time spent on the patio with Sophie and Bella.
Not so sweet memories of tripping over Sophie as I skipped to the Loo in the wee hours. Or, was it Bella?
Up until recently there were several deer heads staring at me from every angle – stuffed but not artificial – and creepy. I never had a desire to name them – maybe if I’d chosen something as odd, er-interesting, as Qegu, I might have liked them better! Great post as always Mike 🙂
This, Sheila, is why every man needs a Man Cave.
Thanks for the visit to my site.
Thanks, Sheila 🙂 The deer heads do sound a bit creepy, but surely they were a convenient place to hang hats?
AHA, Mike! You opened a door I feared to nudge when I responded to Sheila.
The mounted deer heads in The Man Cave sport Santa hats and ornaments tied to bright red ribbons hung from their antlers at Christmas.
I hang them. I love to have a little bit of Christmas around the house all year, so if he wants them de-decorated, he gets to fetch the ladder and do it himself.
You’re both a little crazy…but in the nicest possible way. Thanks for the post.
😉
A ‘little bit crazy’ is such a thoughtful compliment, Liv. Thanks! I mean that. Seriously.
Hey, aren’t you next up on the Round Robin story? Must hop to your site to see if your piece has posted.
Thanks for the visit and the comments.
It is 12:22 AM, Easter morning and I was sitting here feeling extremely sorry for myself because I should be sweetly dreaming beautiful thoughts, but am instead waiting for the clothes dryer to buzz (terrible long story,) And yet here I am reading the super fabulous tale of Queg and feeling all at once almost insanely jolly.I am at once convinced that everyone absolutely needs to have their very own Queg–aka, multi-toned-one-eye-at-a-time-watcher to share their personal space.
I have a troll named “Boobang,” who has been a favorite companion since grade school, He’s lived in every place that I have, and currently stands on the bookshelf next to my desk, A most durable companion, although I haven’t a clue where I got his name from.
Fabulous fun post Mike! And thanks Gloria, for hosting such a cool dude.
Boobang sounds like a brave and noble companion, indeed 🙂
EEE! Thanks for the visit during your dryer-lint-time-of-need, Barbara. Hope today turns out to be a ‘not so crazy day’ for you.
PLUS! [
kazoo trillfish food rattle]You reminded me that I intended to ask Mike to Google Queg. Based on the letters he had, and the
questionableliberal rules applied to that game, he could have created a legitimate Liverpool slang word.But, then, Qegu wouldn’t have a name worthy of fame, and I would not have this post.
FINALLY!!! Someone else who communes with the magical beings that inhabit (what the ordinary call) “stuffed animals”! Loved your story. Thank you for the break from mundane reality. 😀
Reality (IMHO) is often over-rated, Elizabeth. It needs a good mix with Imaginary Worlds (and dancing alone in public on hum-drum days) to spice it up.
Thanks for the visit and EEE! my inbox informs me you have a new blog treat ready to read. See you at your place.
Put on your dance shoes!
You’re welcome…I’m glad you enjoyed it 🙂
How do you pronounce Qegu? Does he/she respond when you call? Loved your story, Mike, and also wonder about what that Grandmother was thinking when she walked away. Does Qegu travel with you or is she too big? If not, does somebody come in to feed her when you aren’t around? Wouldn’t want to have to report you to any authorities.
Hi, Sara 🙂 I pronounce it kay-goo. She’s far too independent to respond when I call and she’s too large to travel with me regularly, but she orders out for pizza when I’m not around.
That is one cute fish! I can see why you had to save her from her horrible fate … trapped with all those other fish. What a sweetie she is.
I had to think hard about my writing mascot, because my go-to inspiration is always my cat, who comes around to remind me that it’s dinner time, and likes to sit on my manuscript and guard it from ferocious editors.
But then I remembered I always brought my Lisa Simpson doll, all spikey haired and grinning, to my Nanowrimo write-ins. I don’t even remember where I picked her up, I think I got her as a gift from someone who knows how much I love the Simpsons. Her quiet voice of reason always calms me down, that and her sax playing at all hours of the day and night.
Thanks for another great post, and the heads up on Gloria Richard’s entertaining blog!
Thanks for visiting Kristen. I’m off to visit your WRITE A BOOK WITH ME blog.
When I used to write at my desktop AND worked *gasp* from home. My writing helper was an 80 pound lab. When she got bored, she’d sit beside me for a bit (30 seconds, tops). Then, I’d find massive paws plunked on my keyboard, expectant brown eyes pleading for playtime, and a tongue-flopping smile. So. We had a game. She had a pull rope. I sat in a chair with rollers. I got a ride around the kitchen and breakfast rooms.
Eventually, we got her a play mate in the form of a yellow lab puppy.
Furry stuffed animals aren’t as intrusive. That’s why every writer needs one. I like your choice.
Is it Mike or Qegu? Doesn’t matter. One or both of them are so popular, the comment count has set a new record.
Congratulations on setting a new record, Gloria. Qegu deserves the credit more than myself. Her powers of mesmerism are well-documented 🙂
Thanks for dropping by, Kirsten. I can see how Lisa Simpson would make an excellent writing companion–certainly better than that trouble-maker, Bart 😉
Nice to meet you, Mike. We don’t have a big fish, but we have a prejudice dog. I’m not joking. It’s sad. We adopted him from the pound and he came with a bunch of issues.
Nice to meet you too, Ciara. I’m sorry to hear your dog has issues. When I was much younger, we had a cat we had adopted from a shelter. She was very sweet, but she had issues as well. We always thought she must not have had the best life before she ended up in the shelter. But we gave her love and the best life we could, and she was mostly okay.
Ciara and Mike, I applaud both of you for adopting pets from the pound.
We adopted our oldest lab when she was a year and a half old. But, I didn’t have to go to the pound to pick her out. Her owners realized keeping her in a crate for 12 hours per day and only letting her run in a confined area was cruel.
When I say didn’t have to go to a pound, it’s because I know how heart-wrenching it must be to choose and leave others behind.
My other rescue dog came from the vet, where he’d lived for three months after his owner died. So sweet when he wanted to be. But, after thousands of dollar, I had to admit he had an incurable condition: Canine Rage Syndrome. He’d go into unprovoked rages and bite anyone in his path. He was a product of a puppy farm.
Bouncing to the political side, Congress would (IMHO) better serve us by forgetting about our salt shakers and, instead, shake down the puppy farms that churn out cute puppies with little chance of being well-adjusted when purchased.
Hi Mike, Youe story is very witty and brought the kid out in me. I really enjoyed your story. Thanksfor sharing him Gloria.
Hi 🙂 Thanks very much for the compliment. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
This whole post is worth it just for the picture “Won – key, busted”!
You haven’t seen anything yet, Nigel.
Tune in tomorrow (or, later today) to discover his latest mishaps.
You had me at “won-key.” Also, I love Qegu. I love that there’s no “u” and I also love that it sounds vaguely like “Wagu” a type of very expensive beef. Somehow, it works. 😀
Thanks, Lydia…Qegu is pretty much feeling like a rock star these days 🙂
Hey, Lydia! Loved the pix in your most recent blog. You are one talented artist. When you expand beyond being a Doctor, a mom, a wife, a blogger, a writer and an all ’round busy person, you can set up an easel in Italy and draw your way to fame and fortune.
I don’t know which one of you is funnier but you make a great team. Thanks for the smiles!
Hi, Patricia! Thanks for the visit and the compliment. It doesn’t take a lot to amuse me.
Apparently Mike’s humor-threshold mirrors mine.
Thanks, Patricia. Gloria certainly did a wonderful job with the post’s presentation 🙂
My wife has a stuffed sheep she calls Lamp Chop. I can’t remember the name of the female actor who use to have the character on TV called Lamb Chop. Anyway, we have two cats. Lamp Chop use to set, or still does now and then, in the railings of the stairs. That was, until the larger of the Main Coon, cats discovered poor Lamb Chop setting on the stairs one day. Why he took notice of him that day I do not know. Now on a daily basis, they use him as a soccer ball around the house. They do not tear him up, but do a good job of scoring with him.
Hi, David! Thanks for the visit. Won-Key knows Lamb Chops pain.
His would-be tormentors are two yellow labs who think all things furry and fluffy belong to them.
I have to take care to keep him out of reach, lest he start to smell like doggie slobber.
I think if I had a cat in my apartment large enough to play soccer with Qegu in a similar fashion, I’d be in great danger 😉
Ha… I get away with made up scrabble words at least once a game. I come up with crazy words that are real. I get challenged, and by the third time everyone is tired of losing a turn… they stop challenging me and I can get away with ANYTHING. (Mean Mommy)
I’ve learned that ruthlessness is the key to victory in Scrabble 😉
And watching people’s eyes. It they are focused on one spot on the board, use that spot at all costs, or they will rack up the points on their next turn!
Scrabble sounds similar to sword-fighting, in that regard 🙂
H! Totally…. It swashbuckling!