The Great Purple Murple

Once Upon a Time there was a monster called the Great Purple Murple. You might have heard of the murple as a small rodentic pet, this was not that kind of murple. This beast was distinguished from the standard household murple by its gigantic size and overwhelming purpleness, and people feared it because of this. The Great Purple Murple meant no harm though. It was clumsy and klutzy and uncoordinated like its brethren but its size made its natural lack of agility seem menacing and more dangerous than it was. Small children, emasculating women, burly lumberjacks, and people named Fred all fled when the Great Purple Murple approached. In fact, everyone ran from the creature except for a smelly and greasy little girl called Cheesefeet.

Cheesfeet also scared just about everyone because her head was flat, she dressed in rotten animal hides and had the unfortunate habit of not caring who was about when she had explosive flatulence [which was pretty often]. The Great Purple Murple was nearsighted and didn’t have a very good sense of smell so didn’t mind Cheesefeet at all. In fact, they became the best of friends.

The Great Purple Murple often hurt itself because it was not-so-very adroit and Cheesefeet often found herself working strange and sinister jobs to pay for the care the Murple needed. When the Murple was constipated Cheesefeet had to sell baby bottle nipples door-to-door; when the Murple had the flu, Cheesefeet had to give hairy-backed men massages with happy endings; when the Murple broke its foreleg Cheesefeet had enough. She left the Great Purple Murple at a crossroads, saying

I have had enough O Great Purple Murple. Although I sacrificed the little dignity I had for you, you have done nothing but not poop, sneeze on me and be a general nuisance. I find you insouciant, obloquious and rather scrofulous. But no more. I just used you for the hot monkey love anyway.

She hitched a ride with a passing shrubber and went to Castle-Town where she became the favorite masseuse of the King. Behind her, the Great Purple Murple let out a mournful yawp and tripped over its own tail. It was promptly shot by a small child named Fred who also had enough of being afraid and had come for some payback. The skin of the Great Purple Murple made a nice roof for his treehouse.

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