After many decades of living in obscurity, Tony Montana’s little friend finally got to say “hello” the way it was originally intended.

                  “Yeah, so Tony was in the middle of introducing me to everybody that fateful night, when all of a sudden all hell broke loose inside the compound,” said Tony’s little friend, Elsnore, a box turtle.  Elsnore continued.  “It was all a big misunderstanding, you feel me?  I was actually the little friend Tony was referring to, not the bazooka Tony was cradling so proudly.  And after Tony shot that missile through the bedroom door, well… everything just went haywire after that.”

                   Elsnore has been living an identity crisis filled life ever since, he said.

                 “I was originally hired by Tony to be an emotional support turtle.   Being a drug kingpin can be very stressful, you understand.  But over time,  I became more than just emotional support for Tony.  And he just wanted to introduce the world to me and show how much he appreciated all that I meant to him.  But then one night the opposing drug lord’s army came to the house and put an end to that, and my chance to say “hello” back to the world.”

               Elsnore pulled up several ounces of regret, but then continued.

            “Yeah, nobody believes that I was Tony Montana’s little friend.  They immediately dismiss me as a phoney, crackpot, name dropping terrapin.  But I was there when it all went down.   And then I lost everything.  My sense of self was gone.   And then I was left homeless after Tony’s bullet-riddled body fell into the fountain.  Try doing laps around a salt water, blood, and cocaine soaked environment.  It was tragic, you feel me?  So now that I have all of your attention, I just want this opportunity to say… HELLO.”

                     Last night, Stan, age unknown, scored the lowest point total in the history of game shows.  Things got a little heated on stage between host Roy and Stan as the latter began to take the low score personally.  The transcript excerpt below details some of what happened.

 

OFFICIAL TRANSCRIPT

HOST ROY: Okay, next question. Besides cheddar, swiss, or pepper jack, name a popular type of cheese?

Stan BUZZES in.

STAN:  ( thinks ) Ah… ( snaps his fingers )  Chucky Cheese.

HOST ROY: Ennnnnttt, no!  And once again your answer is demonstrably wrong.

STAN: What do you mean by that?

HOST ROY:  By what?

STAN:  That my answer is… “demonstrably” wrong.  You’ve been saying that all night.  Why can’t my answers just be “wrong”?

HOST ROY:  No reason.  Let’s continue, shall we?   Kingdom, Phylum, Order, Family, Genus, Species.  Name the omitted levels of animal taxonomic classification.

Stan BUZZES in quickly.

STAN: ( confidently ) 1040A and 1040EZ!

HOST ROY: Ennnnnttt, no!  And once again your answer is demonstrably wrong.

Gloria BUZZES in.

GLORIA:  That would be Class and Domain.

HOST ROY: Gloria, you are correct!

STAN:  ( to Roy ) See, there, you just did it again with the whole “demonstrably” wrong thing.   What’s up with that?

HOST ROY:  No reason.  Shall we continue?

STAN:  No, no, we shall NOT continue.  You’re trying to make a mockery out of me on national television like… I’m a some kind of monster – is that it?

HOST ROY:  No, it’s because we, literally, had a cryonically frozen corpse on the show last week, and he had a higher score than you.

STAN:  Well, everybody knows that cryonically frozen corpses are pretty smart, so…

GLORIA:  ( to herself )  I didn’t know that.

STAN: … I don’t feel no shame in that.  But again, it feels like you’re treating me like I’m some kind of monster.  Why?

HOST ROY:  No reason.  Let’s continue, shall we?   Next question… Who was the longest serving Monarch in British history ?

Gloria BUZZES in.

GLORIA:  That would be Queen –

Stan BUZZES in forcefully.

HOST ROY:  Not your turn, Stan.

STAN:  Queen Nefertiti!

HOST ROY:  Not your turn!  ( points at Gloria )  Gloria continue you answer, please.

GLORIA:  The answer is Queen-

Stan Buzzes in.

STAN: Queen Latifah, Roy!  The answer is Queen Latifah.

HOST ROY:  Not your turn, Stan!  ( points at Gloria )  Gloria continue your answer please.

GLORIA:  I’m sorry what was the question again?

STAN:  ( to Gloria ) British blue blood stuff, for God’s sake!   Pay attention!

GLORIA:  Oh, I remember now.  The answer is Queen-

Again Stan BUZZES In.

HOST ROY: ( points at Stan ) NOT your turn!

STAN:  Queen of Diamonds, Dairy Queen, and Steve McQueen on a Queen size bed!  And that’s a royal flush, Roy!

HOST ROY: Ennnnnttt, no, no, no, and hell no!  And once again your answers are demonstrably wrong!  Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong and WRONG!

STAN:  Fuck, this ain’t fair, man!  I’m a monster.  My brain is the size of an earwax pebble!  I didn’t go to school.  I spent all my childhood years hiding under children’s beds trying to scare the living shit out of them.  My guidance counselor never told me I needed to know stuff like this!  Why in the hell am I even here on this stupid-ass show anyway?!

HOST ROY:  Yes… why are you here, Stan?

STAN:  Enough with your trick questions, Roy!  Enough!

Stan walks off stage left.

STAN: Where’s the damn door out of this place?!

HOST ROY:  ( to Stan ) That’s the utility closet.

STAN:  ( off stage )  I know!

HOST ROY:  And we’re out of time!  And our winner is Gloria with a score of forty-seven thousand, five hundred.  Join us next week and meanwhile….

          Have a Demonstrably Merry Christmas!!

 

 

          Last week, Larry Jordan, 48, attempted to rake up leaves in his front yard by using a vacuum cleaner.  A regular household vacuum cleaner.  But after two hours of diligent vacuuming, he found his yard had even more leaves on it than before he had started.   And after the tree whom had been shedding these leaves mocked him, the two engaged in a bitter back and forth.  We have the following transcript of the exchange between Larry and the tree below.

OFFICIAL TRANSCRIPT

LARRY- ( to himself )  Why is this NOT working?!

TREE – Because you’re using a vacuum cleaner, dumbass.  Ever heard of a rake, genius?

Larry turns off the vacuum cleaner.

LARRY – Yes, I’ve heard of a rake.  Why don’t you mind your own business, Tree?

TREE – I produce leaves, Larry.  This IS my business!

LARRY – Well, why don’t you stop producing so many leaves?  All this work is hurting my back.

TREE – Well, why don’t you tell your dog to stop pissing on my kneecaps?  All that urine is giving my roots arthritis!

LARRY- Trees don’t have knees.

TREE – And Larry don’t have common sense!

LARRY- That’s it!  You have exactly one more time to insult me and I’m gonna-

TREE – You’re gonna do what… chop me down, turn me into firewood, send me to the paper mill?   You ain’t gonna do shit, Larry.  Because I’m over fifty years old and I’m protected by the WormHole Square Arboreous Society.

LARRY- Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that story before, let you tell it.

TREE – What… you don’t believe me?

LARRY- Let’s just say I’ve heard some things about you.

TREE – Things, what things?

LARRY – Things – you know, things.

TREE – C’mon, what kind of things, Larry?

LARRY – Alright… like how you’re not just a regular tree.

TREE – But I am just a regular tree.

LARRY – Oh really?  Well, it’s mighty suspicious how you just appeared in my front yard one day out of the blue.  Where did you come from?

TREE – ( defensive ).  You planted me, don’t you remember?

LARRY – Nah, nah, I never planted you.   I’ve only been living here for twenty years, and you just said yourself that you’re over fifty years old.  That don’t add up.  It must be true.

TREE – What must be true?

LARRY – That you’re hiding out from the mob. ( points at the tree )  You’re in the witness protection program.

TREE – ( hushed tone ) Okay, okay it’s true, alright.  But you can’t say anything, Larry.  Please, Larry, you gotta promise me you won’t tell nobody about what you know!  I mean – I’ve been good to you Larry, haven’t I?!

LARRY – What?

TREE – I mean- I give you shade in the summer, don’t I?

LARRY – Yeah… and all these fucking leaves in the fall.

TREE – Okay, okay, I’ll stop. ( praying hands ) No more leaves, I swear!

LARRY – ( considers ) Okay… I won’t rat you out.  But what did you… ?

TREE – Well… long story short… about ten years ago, I was involved with a gang of oak trees.  We was producing elicit acorns and dealing them to squirrels and whatnot.

LARRY – Whaaaaat?

TREE – Yeah… and anyways, we got busted.  Them Feds was talking about ten years minimum. What?!  Yo, I’ve got soft bark in the back.  I can’t do time.  I testified against my crew and got full immunity, and so they put me in WitSec.  Here I am.

LARRY – Wow, no shit?

Larry and the Tree look at each other momentarily.

Tree – So now what?

LARRY – So now back to these leaves. ( turns on vacuum cleaner )

TREE – ( to himself )  Dumbass.

 

 

 

               Yesterday, professional football player, Corey Jackson, 27, underwent a procedure to shrink his normal size head, down to a tiny head so that his new tiny head could fit into his tiny helmet.  Unfortunately, the procedure was unsuccessful.  In fact, instead of shrinking Corey’s normal head, the procedure actually enlarged Corey’s head three times its original size.

           “I’m not sure what went wrong,” said Dr. Wuba, who performed the procedure.  This was his initial comment.  And despite admitting he has dyslexia, and that he had partaken in three rounds of guava, gin, and juice, minutes before the procedure, Dr. Wuba assured his patient, Mr. Jackson, that all protocols had been followed to the letter.

            “I’ve been wearing this tiny helmet for five years now,” Mr. Jackson said.   “It’s really a tight fit, and it causes me problems when I wear it.  You know – like, headaches, dizziness, and the occasional hallucinations of purple gnomes building dams in the sky, made with wood from forsaken Ikea furniture.  Horrible.”  He went on.  ” So then I heard about Dr. Wuba and all his great work at the WormHole Square Institute of Head Shrinking and Angry Bunion Reduction.  So I decided to give him a try.  That turned into a big mistake.  Now my head is the size of a washing machine, and my life is now a living hell.”

            And despite Dr. Wuba’s assurances, WormHole Square conducted its own follow up investigation of his procedure, and found numerous violations of quality control protocols.

            “First of all, instead of working off of Mr. Jackson medical chart, Dr. Wuba had been referring to a recipe for Rice Krispy Treats,” said Mr. Bento, a writer at the WormHole Square NewsLike Blog.  He went on.     “Yes, Rice Krispy Treats are delicious, but any additional gluten or yeast during the head shrinking procedure can be highly problematic, according to the AMA Human Dome Reduction Institute.  Additionally, for some odd ritualistic reason, Dr. Wuba had repeatedly struck Mr. Jackson up side the head with a partially frozen goat leg during the procedure, while chanting the theme song from The Big Lebowski, which enhanced the head swelling.  And finally, Dr. Wuba’s medical license had already been revoked in WormHole Square due to past medical infractions such as, wearing unsanitary antelope belly skin mittens during medical procedures instead of latex gloves, and laundering Medicare payments into ox tail derivatives.”

              As of this post, Mr. Jackson continues to play football with his enlarged head inside that tiny helmet.

 

 

 

 

         Yesterday, Derrick Jones, 43, violated the 5 second rule when he dropped his slice of pizza and did not pick it up until almost 14 seconds later.  He then ate some of the pizza, prompting punishment from some dude named Justin.  Here is the scripted excerpt of the encounter.

     WormHole Square will return on December 5th, 2023.  We’ve channeled our inner eggnog and will update new content on Mondays.  Happy Holidays!!

          WormHole Square will be on summer break until August 1st, 2022.  Thanks for reading and please continue to share our page. Thanks,

MW

                         Yesterday, The WormHole Square First National Bank refused to cash a check presented by Jesus because he failed to produce two valid forms of identification.

                          “I don’t care if he is my Lord and Savior… policy is policy,” said bank teller June Spivy.  “He can’t just come in here and try to get around the rules just because he died for our sins.”

                        Jesus was reportedly disappointed by the bank’s check cashing policy.  “Man, I didn’t think it would be such a hassle.  Bummer.  You know, I usually cash my checks at the First Nazareth Credit Union… but they were closed today for Easter.”

                      Finally, Jesus had to resort to cashing his check at a liquor store on the Southside of Gomorrah.  “It’s a bit out of my way to get here,” Jesus said.  “But I have a special, business relationship with the owners.   They cash my checks with no fees, and I let them bottle and sell whatever water I turn into wine.”

                           Earlier today, Quasimodo, better known as The HunchBack Of Notre Dame, reluctantly rejected the romantic advances of a camel named Cindy.

                                          “I just don’t see it working out,” said Quasimodo.  “She’s looking for a serious, long term relationship.  I’m looking for something more casual, you know… without the serious commitment… but with the serious dry humping .   And I’ll admit, she’s got a fantastic set of camel toes and a great personality, but we’ve only got one thing in common.  That’s just not enough.”

                        And that one thing that Quasimodo and Cindy share is of course… dry humping.  The other thing the two have in common is the ability to store water for weeks in order to survive arid conditions.  The slight difference being that Cindy stores large amounts of water naturally inside her body, while Quasimodo stores bottles of Aquafina water on the bottom shelf of a mini- fridge, at the top of a bell tower.

                        “I also keep water in a flask inside my shirt,” Quasimodo added.  “Although, the flask was given to me by Bill Cosby back in the back in the mid-eighties, with specific instruction to dispose of it.  So it might contain some other concoction.  Not sure.”

                        For now Quasimodo is content with being single and having the occasional one night stand with a…

                    “Blind, non-judgmental harlot, hard up Peace Corps volunteer, with lesbian question marks on her resume, or a sack of potatoes,” Quasimodo said.

                     Later that day, mostly due to Cindy’s persistence, Quasimodo and Cindy actually went out to a restaurant on a date.   Here, they found more things the two of them had in common.  Like, they both have the same chiropractor.  And they both love grilled chicken and baked potatoes.  Sometimes with… and sometimes without sour cream.

                      Last week, Darius Shell, going against his father’s wishes, became the first peanut in his family to go to college.  What follows is a brief excerpt of their tense, verbal exchange.

            OFFICIAL TRANSCRIPT:

MR. SHELL:  Your Uncle Jeff was a good nut.  He did what he had to do to provide for his family.

DARIUS:  How, by working three and four jobs until he finally lost his mind?

MR. SHELL:  He lost his mind because he married that cashew from the Southside.

DARIUS:  Aunt Jean was nice.

MR. SHELL:  She was outta her friggin’ mind!  Jeff was working so hard to try and keep up with her high maintenance lifestyle that they couldn’t afford.

DARUIS:  She was nice…

MR. SHELL:  Yeah… for a Cashew.

DARIUS:  You didn’t like her because she was a Cashew?

MR. SHELL:  I’m not saying that.  A guy on my bowling team is a Cashew.  Nice enough guy, but he sweats a lot and his feet smell funny.

DARIUS:  None of us have feet!  You’re just making up excuses to justify you intolerance towards Cashews.

MR. SHELL:  NO, I’m not!

DARIUS:  You’re a…(thinks) nut-ist.

MR. SHELL:  No, I’m not.

DARIUS:  Okay… ( thinks) how do you feel about Brazilian nuts?

MR.  SHELL:  I ain’t got nothin’ against them.  Good soccer players, excellent dancers… but they need to go back to their own country.

DARIUS: What?!

MR. SHELL:  And Pistachios… that sounds foreign too, so they need to go back to wherever they come from as well.

DARIUS:  I can’t believe it.  My own dad is nut-ist.  I’ve always suspected, but…

MR. SHELL:  It ain’t like that, Darius.

DARIUS:  No, then what is it like, Dad?

MR. SHELL:  I try to live by the golden rule, you know?   Treat other nuts the way you want to be treated… unless they’re  Almonds, who are good at math, but are horrible drivers.

DARIUS:  You’re ridiculous!

MR. SHELL:  Or Macadamias… who are good at construction and harvesting, but are lazy as fuck!

DARIUS:  See, you just completely contradicted yourself!

MR. SHELL:  No, I didn’t!

DARIUS: ( chuckles)  And you have just answered your own question about college.

MR.  SHELL:  How so?

DARIUS:   I don’t need college to teach me that what you believe is total bullshit.  But, if nothing else, it’ll get me away from this nutshell of ignorance you’re living in, Dad.

MR. SHELL:  Whatever!   In time you’ll see that I’m right.

DARIUS:  Yeah, whatever, I’m out of here.

MR. SHELL:  Oh, yeah, where are you going?

DARIUS:  I don’t know-George’s, Mike’s-anywhere but here right now.

MR. SHELL:  Well, how are you gonna get there?  My car is off limits until I get an ignorance oil change!  Get it?

DARIUS:   Yeah, hilarious.  Whatever, I’ll just take an Uber.

MR. SHELL:  ( fatherly tone )  Okay, Darius… look, I’m sorry we’re not seeing eye to eye about this college thing right now, but I want you to know that… I still love you, Son.

DARIUS:  ( conflicted )  I love you too, Dad.

MR. SHELL:   And always remember these two things no matter what happens between us.  One: we’re family…

DARIUS:  For sure, for sure, always.   What’s the other thing?

MR. SHELL:  If you take an Uber… beware of them Chestnut drivers.  Good at taxes, but sneaky as fuck!

THEND