The Nick Enloe Collection: Vollume 3
Survival of the Puppets
a Nick Enloe Original 12/14/01

"Goodnight boys and girls,"Garcia said.
"And don't forget to brush your teeth and make your parents proud!" Smith added.
The children left the Center, and the old woman cast Garcia and Smith to th ground and went to the back. The two lie there, motionless and quiet. Garcia sat up.
"Got a damn pain in me bum,"he said.
"You think you have a pain? Your ass is a highway compared to my country road," Smih replied,"That hag should at least take her rings off before she decides where to stick that hand anyway. What the hell are you, anyway?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Garcia asked."I'm a dog with a beaner hat on."
"Oh...I thought you looked more like a rat with a beaner hat on," he replied.
"Well, it must be nice being something everyone knows. No one is going to mistake a cat with the damn whiskers and tail of yours,"Garcia said.
"Don't forget the soundbox,"Smith added.
Smith touched his chest, which made a koud "Meoowww."
"Cute Smith, real cute," he said.
They turned their heads suddenly to the chest of puppets, where they heard a pounding noise.
"Someone is knocking, Garcia. You check it out..."Smith said.
"Do it your bloody self,you coward,"he replied.
Smith walked over to the chest and unlocked it. Te top flew open, and a long black leg reached out.Spartacus the spider leapt out.
"I couldn't help but listen to your moaningof hands up arses and mistaken identities.," Spartacus said.If you ask me, the three of us should make a run for it."
"How do you propose we do that?Open the goddam door?"Garcia asked.
There is a window in the corner by the sink. All we have to do is climb out it and we can make it outside. So...Are you game?" the maniacal spider asked.
"Sounds good to-"
"Wait!"Smith chimed in."We need to talk about this."
Smith pulled Garcia aside, as Spartacus watched from a distance.
"This had better be good, Smith. If for one moment you'd rather have a hand up your anus than be free, I'd-"
"No. That's not what this is about.Do yo think we can trust that Spartacus with this?"Smith asked.
"Of coursewe can,"Garcia replied,"at least as much as we can trust each other."
"Don't you remember that time he was accused of murdering the poor Gingerbread Girl?"Smith asked.
"'re right. Don't worry though,I have a plan."
Garcia continued to whisper to Smith until he seemed to understand. Meanwhile,a Spartacs stared on. Smith and Garcia had met an agreementand returned to the spider."Okay, we're ready,"Smith said.
"Good. Then we shall get out of this shithole,"Spartacus said.
The three rebelious puppets climbed the sink, and were just feet away from paradise.
"I've always wondered what a sink is like. Would you two like to take a look-see?"Garcia asked.
"Might as well,"Spartacus said."If you're wanting a bit of nostalgia of this place, I have no problem. Just don't get too attached."
"Actually, I'm a bit scared of these contrapptions,"Smith said,"it'd be best if I stayed up here."
The two walked down to the white-walled, damp hell.Spartacus lookedaway from Garcia, inspecting the walls.
"Don't see what's to be so afraid about. He's a cat? You ask me, he's a puss-"
Smack! Garcia hit Spartacus, whose legs entangled him and fell over.
"Now, Smith!"Garcia yelled.
Cold water burst onto their cotton bodies, throwing even Garcia to the ground.
"You twit!"Garcia yelled."You hit the wrong goddam switch!"
"It won't turn back!"Smith replied.
Spartacus leapt onto Garcias back, choking the lfe out of him.
"You dirty sonnuvabitch!You thought you could double-cross me. I'll show you!"Spartacus yelled.He then took Garcias head and banged it into the porcelain walls and dipping his head into the cold running water.All of a sudden, a fear-inducing grinding noise came from the sink.
"AHH!"Spartacus yelled, cupping his ears.
Garcia got up, beanie and all and yelled,"Die, you wretched, filthy arachnid!"and slammed Spartacus to the ground next to the drain, from which the deadly sound generated from. Garcia threw the spider in the drain feet-first. The drenched black fabric made horrific sounds as he was grinded into the trash.
"Fuck you! Fuck you you pathetic rat!FUCK YOU!"
"I'ma dog, and don't you forget it!"Garcia yelled, as he saw the remainsof Spartacus discarded into eternity.
The wate turned off and Garcia fell to is knees.
"Well Smith, we best get going.Lots of obstacles to pass before we're truly free,"he said.
Smith grew silent and merely hopped out the window.Garcia followed.
Once on the outside, the piercing cold wind could immediately be felt.The two meek puppets were scared by the shock the outside worl gave them. Darkness, and below freezing tempertures were not designed for puppets. Especially when Garcia was drenched from head to toe from his battle with Spartacus.
Seconds seemed like hours, and minutes seemed like days. Icicles clung off Garcias hat, and his pointy nose. As the sun began to rise, he collapsed to the ground under the weight of the ice on his body.Smith, the courageous cat, knelt beside him.
"You, my friend, are unable to walk on,"he said,"but for the greater good you shall help me live on!"Smith began to bite at Garcias frozen limbs.
"No, friend!NO!You need not consume me.It's all in your head.We are only goddam puppets!"Garcia cried.
"I am hungry, and you are dead weight you damned hound!"Smith replied. Smith picked his frozn body up and slammed him back to the pavement.
"I'm sorry,"was all he could say after gnawing his eye.
"You know what?"a gasping Garcia said,"I'm no dog. I'm just a fuckin' rat."
Smith began ripping into his insides from the anus, his face full of horror.Suddenly, the two fell limp to the ground.
A small, silver car pulled into the Center's driveway. The old lady stepped out.
"Damn kids,"she said, walking towards the frozen, beaten puppets."Ungrateful bastards. I throw them a show every week, and they steal and mutilate them.I guess Spartacus will have to lead the show until I fix them up."
The old lady took their tattered bodies inside the Center, where a young teenage boy greeted her.
"Oh my.What happened to them?"he said.
"Damn kids,"was all the lady could say.
"You put so much into this for them, an they take and tear aparte these magical things,"he said,"Watching this show for so many years, since I was a lad, has given me a soft spot for them."
"Huh,"she grunted,"Love them all you want. Just remember, they're only goddam puppets."

The End

Limp-wrist Scouts
a Nick Enloe Original 1/9/02

We built tall fire and went on hikes,
and did all the activities that we likes,
we went to camp and shot the shit,
and on the joint we took a hit.

But then years past and we all grew,
you would've thought I had a clue,
my friends had changed not for the best,
I must've been staring at Angela's breast...

One day at camp checking for ticks,
a fellow scout asked to suck my dick,
I was shocked, I'm not that way,
I did not want that queer to stay.

I then found out it's not just him,
the whole troop was, except for Tim,
it seemed they're all limp-wristed scouts,
I'd made up my mind, I wanted out.

I've never had much luck with girls,
in fact,for most,I make them hurl,
better that chicks don't hit on me,
than guys that do, they're quite scary.


The Myth of Fred the Cornbag

This is a script of a skit I wrote recently. I'm planning on filming it this weekend with my creation, Fred the Cornbag. He's a bag they use to wrap corn at KFC, with stickers and eyes, and shaped kinda like a sock puppet. Some of the humor is lost just reading the script, though, since I'm filming this pretty creatively: First, I will record my voice doing all these parts, except for Voice, which I will do as I film it. Then, with my recorder, I will play it and lip Freds mouth to it. The high and low voices of it will be controled through the the recorded, which can control how fast or slow something is played, giving it a very cool effect. And by the way, Fred was made a day at work when little was being done.

The Myth of Fred the Cornbag

(Fred giving telepathic messages to screen in a low-pitch, slow voice)

Freds mind: I am transmitting to you through my brain. The truth must be told. I have always been KFC's mascot, but I despise that very name. The quality of food there is barely edible, and the workers look scraggly and don't care if the customer dies of food poisoning. I used to live free in the jungle until the Colonel shot me and made me his mascot. Help me!

(voice offscreen speaks to Fred)

Voice: Ready to shoot the commercial?

(Fred nods grudgingly)

Voice: Take one.

(Fred begins speaking in high-pitch, almost chipmunk voice)

Fred: Hi Kids! Parents been cooking the same old thing day in, day out? Those horses testicles mommy makes just ain't goin' down the throat the way they used to? Well come down to Kentucky Fried Chicken. The food we cook is dumped into flour, then swims in scorching hot grease until perfection is reached. It's just like Grandmaa house on Sunday, except here at KFC, greasy teenagers with no future make sure your meal is just right. Come down to KFC and let your tastebuds scream with delight. And don't forget to tell them Fred the Cornbag sent you!

Voice: Cut! Fred? That sucked.

Fred: Sorry. We'll try it again.

Freds mind: You fuckin' pansy.

I Like to Brush My Teeth
a Crack-uh, I mean, Nick Enloe Original

i like to brush my teeth
my little leprachaun does too
he tells me to come seethe
and see the joy it will bring you

he tells me to start fires
he tells me not to trust you
he says that you're all liars
and death shall come on you

i like to brush my teeth
and so we're doing it now
he tells me to shoot you with a gun
and spill your blood like a sow
me and my leprachaun are best friends
we'll be together till the end

The Historical Diary Entrees of Nick

June 10,1619

Exploration is just another word for idleness. To leave your country and avoid the workforce. Coming from England, that is what I've been taught my whole life. Let the Spanish waste away their lives at sea. But I have no family to support me anymore, and sailing was my only way off that stupid island. Some Spaniards came to stock special supplies, and I got myself on board. I wanted to go to the New World, as no where could be worse than where I'm coming from. We didn't get very far till they noticed I was there, and they weren't very happy to find me. They've basically put me to doing all the jobs they didn't want to. (clever start)

June 11, 1619

No one said that there were only four other members on board. Obviously, they must just be on vacation. All this sailing is just to find what's out there. The crew consists of Goot, a burly Spanish man who seems to overload himself in food. No one told this guy gluttony is a sin. Then there's John. I think John is a deaf-mute, for he never seems to ever know what's going on. Kinda like he lives in his own little world. Our Captains name is Ben, and he sails with his wife, Jade. Ben is somewhat a has-been captain, since his wife seems to have held him back from greatness. He was very well known a bit, even on my shores. Women are what drag you down, though. Jade...well, not much to say about her...she's a worthless woman. Worthless crew, huh? (yes, sounds like it. you picked a real winner!)

June 13, 1619

I'm running out of ink. All I have left is this blue ink. We've been sailing for days, and I still don't know where we're going. I wish the captain thought to get some citrus fruits or something, since all of us except Goot have scurvy.I think th disease is overrated. But, as I said, Goot is fine, as I think he has enough nutrients to last a lifetime or two. (ok)

June 14, 1619

Captain Ben announced today that he sees land. We all rushed to the deck to seem but nothing was there. Either he has an odd sense of humor, or he may just be cracking up. Sea life isn't for me, I've decided. Too much stupid stuff to worry about. (weak entry. you can do better)

June 18, 1619

Today a giant squid attacked our ship. We threw various objects at him, trying to please him, but it only made him madder. I tried singing him a song, and he bit my arm off. We eentually got him to stop by throwing him John, the deaf-mute. We all felt a little bad while watching him get chewed up. It didn't last long,though. Who knows, maybe deaf-mutes like being killed. (this entry is awkward, with a little humor)

June 20, 1619

Today, just a few hours ago, I went through Johns stuff. While searching, I found some hidden peppers of sorts. They were very skinny, and a foot-long each. I ate part of one, and have been panting ever since. I didn't know peppers were made this hot, and I've learned my lesson not to search through dead peoples stuff. He would've wanted it that way, though. (did he get retribution somehow even while dead?)

June 21, 1619

Goot had a fit about not hitting land, yet, and he proceeded yo jump up and down. He broke the floorboard and went through. Let's just say he can't swim or float. Tell John I said "hi", Goot. The ship is slowly filling with water, and it's only me, the captain, and his wife. We're doomed to failure. Goot once told me, though,"If ya gotta go, take someone you hate with you." Thanks Goot. (nice philosophy.a little morbid, though.)

June 22, 1619

After finding the captain and his wife can't swim, I abandoned all hope and took a swim for it. Less than ten minutes later, I was so tired I was ready to give up. I need to exercise more. I was still just far enough to watch the ship sink completely. This crew was never destined to reach any destination. We were all sent out to fail and die. That's when I hit it. A large island was right behind me, and I reached the shore. My hope has been restored, as I write this on the beach I landed upon. (good!)

June 23, 1619

An island this size is sure to have inhabitants. All signs pointed to salvation.In the middle of the island, I found a town. A sign n interesting writing read "Madruk". This, I assumed, was the name of this grea island. I searched the intire town, and found no one was there. On what seemed to be the headof governments door, a sign read: We've moved! 40 miles south, to the island o "New Madruk"! I knew then I would never leave. (why?)

October 7, 1619

I've been here for months. If this is found, know that the body it lies next to is Nick the Great. I've given up, as disease has struck me.I want to go home. (Is this it? No big climax? Oh well)

The End

Weakness For Another
a Nick Enloe Original

i pop the top and smell the drink
intoxicates the way i think
i tell myself "have just one more"
then leave to get some at the store
pistacios go great with some
afterwards i'll chew some gum
to get the taste out from my breath
i feel i'll drink myself to death
but this great drink is great you see
it is the reason she left me
i feel that it is way to clear
i've been drinking entirely too much... cream soda


My Friend Joe 2/5/02
a Nick Enloe Original

I once had a friend named Joe,
a head held high though spirits low,
he just wanted to have a chick,
though with them he didn't click.

To kid around he took his arm,
around there shoulders, there was no harm,
it's not as if their breats he'd poke,
Goddammit man, it was a joke!

Casual touching, that's what he did,
he did not ask to have their kid,
at the office he found just what he'd done,
he must've messed with the wrong one.

Who could it be? He then found out the truth,
the girl it was was not pretty,I think I chipped a tooth,
Joe was told they all would come,police would take him away,
the truth it was, they're full of shit,Joe was here to stay.

I hope if you're an ugly guy you will take this to heart,
to know that when you hit on chicks,you need to try to be smart,
if Joe looked good we know this never would have been,
later the week a football player fucked her way past sin.


*To all the Joes in the world. Keep reaching for that rainbow!
Survival of the Puppets
Limp-wrist Scouts
The Myth of Fred the Cornbag
I Like to Brush my Teeth
The Historical Diary Entrees of Nick
Weekness for Another
My Friend Joe

Back to Top
Back to Nick's Writings Homepage