WormHole Square will update on Wednesday July 10th, 2024.  Sorry for the scheduling delay.    And as always, thanks for reading.  Please SHARE our content!

 

           WormHole Square will update on Wednesday, June 26th.  Thanks for reading!

This week, WormHole Square will be updated on Wednesday, June 12th.   Sorry for the inconvenience.  Thanks for reading!

 

      Sorry, we’re feeling a bit under the weather this week, so  this week’s content will not be updated until Monday, May 20th.  Sorry for the delay and thanks for reading!

Best Regards,

MW

                          Yesterday, a “so called” Wizard was caught empty handed when he was unable to grant the requests of three WormHole Square residents who came to him for help.  Please check out the COMIC SCRIPTS PAGE for details.

 

          Yesterday, Dean Jordan, 55, went into, what he thought was a wart removal clinic, but instead came out with something he never imagined.  Below is what happened.

 

 

Wart Sculpture

INDIGO:  Wow, Mr. Jordan, you’re awake.  Soooooo what do you think?         

MR. JORDAN:  ( groggy ) Well, to tell you the truth, Indigo, I feel like I’m still under sedation right now…

INDIGO: Becaaaause…?

MR. JORDAN: Because the giant wart that was on my hand… the same wart you were supposed to remove… now looks like a replica of Michelangelo’s statue of David.

INDIGO:  I know, right!  I think it’s one of the best sculptures I’ve ever, ever, ever done.  So what do you think, man?

MR. JORDAN:  What?

INDIGO:  I want your honest opinion.  Don’t be afraid to hurt my –

MR. JORDAN: Are you out of your mind?  You were supposed to remove my unsightly, giant wart, not carve it into a piece of art!  Are you even a real doctor?

INDIGO: Oh, I’m not a doctor at all.  What ever gave you that impression?

MR. JORDAN:  You, you did!  You told me you could remove my giant, ugly wart.

INDIGO:  I did.  I removed it and replaced it with this beautiful work of renaissance art!

MR. JORDAN:  It’s a fucking wart sculpture!  Who’s ever heard of such a thing?!

INDIGO: Give it some time, Mr. Jordan.  You’ve got the rest of your life to get used to it.

MR. JORDAN:  The rest of my life?  You sound like this is a permanent thing.

INDIGO: Yes, and it’s a wonderful thing, man!  Unfortunately, I had to reposition the radial artery in you left wrist and attach it to the root of the wart.  So if the wart is ever removed you’ll probably bleed out in no time flat.

MR. JORDAN:  What?

INDIGO:  And then… I pulled the radial artery up through the leg of  David and embedded it into the base of his scrotum.

MR. JORDAN:  Why in God’s name would you do that?

INDIGO:  I felt the piece needed some added discomfort in order to capture just the right amount of contrapposto.

MR. JORDAN:  Contrapposto?  What the hell is that?!

INDIGO:  It’s what gives a sculptured figure that classic asymmetrical pose where the shoulders and hips are counter balanced gracefully.

MR. JORDAN:  Contrapposto… that sounds like some kind of Italian dish, risotto perhaps?

INDIGO:  Ahhhhhh, tempting, but that’s not really not important right now.  What’s important is that you keep your calendar clear next Saturday.

MR. JORDAN:  Why, so that this damn thing can heal?

INDIGO:  No, because you and the David wart sculpture have a show at the Walters Art Museum.

MR. JORDAN:  No way, no way, Indigo!  I’ve got a bowling tournament next Saturday.  No way I’m going to miss that.  I’m the anchor man!

INDIGO:  Hmmmmm… do you bowl with you right or left hand?

MR JORDAN:  Left… I do everything with my left hand.  I’m left handed. Why?  ( looks at sculpture on his left wrist )   Fuck!

INDIGO:  Yeeeeaaah, you’re gonna miss that bowling thing.

MR. JORDAN:  Oh my god, I can’t believe this shit!  This wart sculpture is gonna be so inconvenient for me.  I do everything with my left had.

INDIGO:  Everything?

MR. JORDAN: Yes, I bowl with it.  I admonish my pet turtle, Fitty, with it. I also wave insincerely to my neighbors with it, etcetera, etcetera.

INDIGO:  What else?

MR. JORDAN: ( embarrassed )  Well… there is one other thing, but I’m not comfortable saying it in the company of a woman.

INDIGO:  What?

MR. JORDAN:  You know.

INDIGO: What is it?

MR. JORDAN:  You know.

INDIGO:  No, I don’t know.  What else do you do with your left hand?

MR.  JORDAN:  I’m pretty sure you know.

INDIGO:  Could this activity be a euphemism for “admonishing your turtle?”

MR. JORDAN:  Huh?  No, I admonish my pet turtle, Fitty, when he flips on his back on purpose trying to look up my wife’s skirt.

INDIGO:  Nasty little turtle.

MR. JORDAN:  You mean- hard up, blind, and out of his mind, turtle.  Why would any living creature want to look up my wife’s dress?

INDIGO: Now THAT sounds like a euphemism for masterbation.

MR. JORDAN:  What?  No, that’s the exact opposite!  And that’s most certainly NOT what I was referring to in regards to my pet turtle, Fitty, and my left hand activities.

INDIGO:  Then what?

MR. JORDAN:  Flapjack flipping of course.

INDIGO:  You mean pancake.  Nobody says flapjack anymore.  And yes, I did notice some pancake batter residue on the left side of the wart base.

MR. JORDAN:  I was once the best flipper of flapjacks the world had ever known.

INDIGO:  Really, then why have I never known of you?

MR: JORDAN:  Because you were probably looking under pancakes.

INDIGO:  Touche´

MR. JORDAN:  See you Saturday at the Walters.

 

THEND

 

 

 

                   Yesterday, Cupid was caught attempting to harpoon a whale on the northside of the WormHole Square Harbor.

                 “Yeah, I caught him red handed,” said coast guard chief, Pat Ross.  He continued.  “And this is not the first time Cupid has done something like this.  Last year we caught him hunting endangered sea otters off the east shore bay.   Before that, he was over there off the southside of the harbor shooting at pelicans.  And I heard that last year the authorities nabbed him for shooting ducks up at the WormHole Square County Fair.  Five carnies got injured reportedly.  However, because entities like Cupid have limited diplomatic immunity, all we could do was file another criminal complaint, that in turn, had to be forwarded to Aphrodite’s office for prosecutorial consideration.”

              Chief Ross shook his head, frustrated, continued.  “It’s really out of our hands at this point.   You would think that Cupid would be out there shooting arrows into folks so that they could fall in love around this Valentine’s Day.  But no, that little bastard is up to his old shenanigans.  When he’s not doing this kind of stuff, he’s shooting his love arrows into two people who are complete opposites.  And these are people who would never fall in love under any normal circumstance, like a book banning dwarf and a basketball player who’s a bibliophile.  He’s been doing this stuff around this time of year for the last several years.  Pity.  Hopefully, this time Aphrodite will dole out some real punishment.”

                It’s been reported that two hours ago, Aphrodite reviewed the charges filed by Chief Ross’ office, and she has taken swift punitive action against Cupid.   He has been sentenced to six months in a halfway house for Cherubs and eighty hours of community service.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

 

 

 

 

 

                      Three days ago on the south side of WormHole Square, a velociraptor disguised as the Monopoly Man, attacked a groundhog, mere seconds after the groundhog came out of his burrow… on GroundHog’s Day.

                  “It’s an annual tradition,” said Phil Livingston, director of the Groundhog’s Day festivities.  He went on.  “Basically, we’re not sure what it means when a velociraptor disguised as the monopoly man, runs up and rips the ground hog into two unsightly, yet surprisingly symmetrical body parts.  The closest thing we’ve ever had to this was back in 1999 when a Prince impersonator tried to strangle the groundhog with a high E guitar string.  The good news was that the unconscious groundhog did not see his shadow and the Cherry Blossoms bloomed super early that year.  But this situation is unprecedented.”

                  Indeed, Mr. Livingston had to confer with the National GroundHog’s Day GrandMaster Director for an official interpretation of their peculiar circumstances.  After some calculations based on advanced meteorology, and divining rod readings by a vetenarian shaman who specialises in fractal penumbra interpretation, the only prediction that could be reached, was that the castaways on Gilligan’s Island would never get off the island due to incessant high tides.   Mr. Livingston then consulted a copy of The Farmer’s Almanac written in Latin, dating back to the 7th century.

                  “It was really hard to read that book, because it was in such an old language and because it had a lot of mustard stains on it,” Livingston said.  He continued.  “But the hardest thing to overcome was paying all of the overdue library late fees.  Once we did that we had the task of breaking down the book by separating it by weather forecasts, tuna casserole recipes, and Mel Brooks movie reveiws.  Luckily,  Amir, one of our interns, speaks several languages, including, Latin, Sanskrit, and up scale Hillbilly.  So with Amir’s translation we were finally able to come up with a better prediction based on the Groundhog Day velociraptor attack.”

                The GroundHog’s Day predictions were whittled down to several possible scenarios.   1.) Six more weeks of winter  2.)  Early spring  3.)  Locust plague with rain and hail that’s shaped like cabbage, but smells like old pennies.    4.)  Endless winter, constant snow with snowflakes made of cardboard confetti from God’s overfilled recycling bin.

          Happy Groundhog’s Day!

 

 

 

             Last night, WormHole Square Police were investigating the scene of multiple suspicious deaths a local nursing home.

                   “I have never seen anything like it in my twenty-five year career as a homicide investigator,” said Detective Sergio Spiggleman.  He went on.  “As of right now we’ve got several deaths at the crime scene, and the main suspect, so far, appears to be a lone ceiling fan.  Our preliminary investigation suggests that the ceiling fan possibly malfunctioned and that the fan blades began spinning out of control at speeds of over five thousand RPMs.  At which point, all but one of the fan blades came loose from the housing, striking multiple elderly victims as they were going about their daily routines.  The other theory suggests that the ceiling fan deliberately targeted the seniors in a act of revenge because or unpaid bingo gambling debts owed to him.”

                       The only fan blade that did not come loose from the housing was a witness to the entire tragic event and gave the detectives the details.

                 “Yeah, so the next thing I know, we’re doing like fifty, a hundred, two hundred, a thousand revolutions per – you know?” said Ralph, the fan blade.”  He continued.  “Now, that’s like a dangerous speed.  And I’m like – yo, what the fuck is happening!?  I look to my left and Paul has passed out, and then he comes loose and lands in Mr. Campbell’s back like a damn dart.  And then Mr. Jones took a fan blade to the chest as he’s finishing up a cup of pudding.  Then Mrs. O’leary took a fan blade to her dome while working on the same crossword puzzle she’s been working on since last August.  By the way, what’s an eight letter word for A FLEA’S MUSCLES?  Nobody knows.”

                   Police advise that there is still one ceiling fan blade that has not been accounted for, and have named it a person of interest in connection with this crime.

                        “We want to talk to this missing fan blade to see what he knows,” said Spiggleman.  He went on.  “We have unconfirmed reports that this missing fan blade may have assaulted several residents before fleeing the scene by cracking them on their knuckles, Catholic school nun style.   We’ve also been told that the fan blade committed property damage as well, by knocking over the AARP brochure stand, resulting in damages totalling $58.20.  We also have reports that this fan blade was last seen working as a kayak paddle up in the Adirondacks.  However, this information has not been confirmed at this time.”

                WormHole Square Police are asking anyone with any information on the whereabouts of the missing ceiling fan blade to call them on their semi-anonymous tip line.

 

           Last Tuesday night, at 7:48PM, Fridgita, a local WormHole Square snowwoman, gave birth to a full tray of ice cube babies, with Zeronious, her snowman husband, proudly by her side.

               “It’s a miracle,” Zeronious said.  He went on.  “Because I don’t actually have a penis or testicles.  I mean-I did have male genitalia at one time, but five years ago, I made the tragic mistake of putting a pack of hand warmers in my jock strap during a hockey game.  So, basically, Fridgita and I have never actually had sex.  Well, there was that one time we did that thing with our carrots, but I don’t think that’s how babies are conceived.  And now that I think about it, I was the one more on the receiving end than she was.  Other than that carrots are only good for eyesight.  So, again all I can say is that it must be a miracle!   Then again, there were those times when I saw our next door neighbor, Jack Frost, nipping at her nose… and her earlobes… and her neck… and her belly button… and her… hey, wait a fucking minute here!”

                    Yesterday, Zeronious petitioned to have a paternity test taken to determine if he is the father of the ice cube babies.   Earlier today Zeronious got the results and it was determined that he is the father.

                  “I’m a father!  Carrots… who knew?”