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Rosey and His International Band of Crazies: The Play

by Rosey

Band of Crazies: Hi.

The End


Rosey and His Piece of Cheese: the Novel

It was a dark and stormy night. The solemn oak tree in Nebraska swayed noiselessly in the breeze. The sea was purple that night as the tiny waves rippled up and down, up and down. The rabid skunk barked and ate the postman. And Rosey held his piece of cheese as he slept cozily in his bed. Yet, he was unaware of the tragedy that was about to occur.

On Rosey's street that next morning, Mrs. Fuller and her husband Miriam were strolling down the sidewalk interlocking their arms. The kid newspaper boy pedaled his bike down the street and attacked them with newspapers. Rosey woke up and smiled a happy smile. He looked at the piece of cheese he held, which had mold growing all over it.

"My, my, Mister Cheese," Rosey said with a grin. "You need a shave."

So, off Rosey went to the bathroom. He looked at the counter.

"Oh bother," Rosey said in disgust. "We're all out of shaving lotion! Looks like we're just going to have to use this toothpaste."

So, Rosey squeezed all that fluoride-pumped teeth stuff out of the tube and put it on the cheese's face. But curiosity got the better of him and Rosey decided to feed the piece of cheese to his cat.

"Meow," said the cat.

And the cat exploded.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!! Was the sound Rosey's fart made.

The cat made a pretty loud sound, too.

And this cat did not believe in Cat Jesus so it was sent to Hell where it was forced to blaze in the heatheny fires of Hell for heatheny cats such as Rosey's cat.

Meanwhile, in the next supernatural arena, Rosey was awaiting in the long line of recently deceased fellows in front of the pearly gates of Heaven. Next to the gates, there was a bright-human figure on a podium.

"Ay!" said the person behind Rosey, tapping him on the shoulder. He was a young, unshaven man in his twenties. "How'd you die?" Rosey hesitated to speak, for he was speechless.

"I do not know," Rosey responded. "How'd you die."

"Oh man!" he exclaimed. He was a very expressive man with his arms. "I was workin' on the second story of this house, ya know-I'm a house painter-and along came this sonogram machine from the sky. And it just HIT me! Oh man! That was so awesome!"

"Okay," Rosey lethargically responded.

It wasn't long before Rosey finally inched his way to the front of the line. He looked at the person by the podium. It was Rosey's mother: Mama Rosey.

"Mother?" Rosey said.

"Rosey!" she exclaimed dropping her gleaming holy quill. "It's so good to see you, laddie!"

"Mama Rosey!" Rosey exclaimed, running behind the podium to give old mother a hug.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again!" Mama Rosey said. "What, after choking on that bowl of peas and all. I thought we were separated forever!"

"Oh mother," Rosey said in his mothers arm. Them Mama Rosey gasped.

"Rosey!" she happily shrieked. "Look who it is!" Rosey looked to see who it was, for he always obeyed his mother.

"Why it's old Uncle Leo! You died of a stroke ten years ago!" Rosey exclaimed. "But what are you wearing? Is that a loincloth?"

"Aye!" Uncle Leo exclaimed in affirmation. Skinny old Leo hadn't aged a bit since he died at 85 years of age. But he was about 1,000,006 times more energetic.

"What are you doing in a loincloth?" Rosey asked of his uncle.

"'Cause I've got some rescuing to do, sir!" Uncle Leo exclaimed. He put his fists on his waist. "Come with me laddie!" Rosey tried to get a peek into heaven hoping to catch a glimpse of Jesus before he left. But all he ended up seeing was one of the disciples and Marc Bolan.

"Alright, Uncle Leo!" Rosey said. "Let's go rescuing!"

"Righty-o!" Uncle Leo said. "Follow me!"

And so Uncle Leo jumped through a hole in the clouds and Rosey followed. They landed in a jungle and were buried in shrubs with giant leaves.

"Hark!" Uncle Leo exclaimed, peeking his head out of the shrubs. "There is a leopard stalking that jungle boy! Cover me, sir!"

"Okay," Rosey said. He wondered where the leopard was. Uncle Leo removed a knife from the sheath on his waist and attacked a tree root.

"Die, Leopard!" Uncle Leo exclaimed, stabbing the tree root. He then looked at a 3-foot mushroom. "Aye, boy! Runalong now! ... Yer safe!"

"Psssssst," something whispered. It had a powerful, husky voice, but obviously was trying to suppress it. "Hey! Up here!" It was a tree. "Hey, what's he doing?" it asked, referring to Uncle Leo who was carving chunks out of its root.

"I think he's attacking a leopard," Rosey told the tree.

"Yeah, well tell him to quit it, will ya?" said the tree. Rosey was still looking for the face. "I've got to look my best for the tree inspector...Oh fark. Here he comes."

A toucan came flying in. Its beak was a color of yellow and orange with green polkadots and it was holding a clipboard.

"Hey!" the toucan exclaimed. "Whatzat guy doing?" The toucan gestured toward Uncle Leo.

"He's crazy," the tree said. "He thinks my root's a leopard."

"Well, tell him to quit," the toucan said. "I've got work to do."

"Okay," said the tree. He lifted his enormous roots out of the soil and flung Uncle Leo far into the air.

"DON'T THINK I'Ll give up that ... easily .......," Uncle Leo screamed as his voice faded out.

"And what's that?" the toucan asked, gesturing toward Rosey.

"I don't know," the tree responded. "He came with the old man."

"Well, tell him to shove off," the toucan said.

The tree looked at Rosey.

"Shove off," the tree said to Rosey.

And Rosey shoved off therefore and forevermore and exited into the foggy mist. Never to come back.


Rosey Tips the Garbageman: The Poem

'Twas on the Eve of Today
Not on the Eve of Yesterday
When the man
The man
Who delivers the
...twinkling garbage...
Got tipped


Rosey Eats His Foot: The Scientific Journal

...it was on the 67th day of experimentation when my theory proved true. It is possible to eat your own foot. I achieved this by putting my foot to my mouth and biting off the flesh. I sat there for about an hour until I was struck with a scientific revelation: That if one chews one's flesh off of one's own foot and swallows, one is thereby eating his or her own foot. I chewed and swallowed knowing that I was making a historic scientific breakthrough. Now, all I have to do is figure out how to grow it back...

THE END of our tale ... forevermore ...

This story is copyrighted by ROSEY. Not by Michael Lawrence. He didn't write this.