Chapter 2 – Jeninarah the Mermaid, Jim’s Amazing Mutatious Tel-FreakinMuffin-Port, and Stuff

To start this next chapter of Jim’s life, I intended to use the phrase “he couldn’t believe his eyes.”

However, it struck me as cliche and nonsensical.  Think about it.  At what point in the relationship between brain and eyeballs do you lose trust?  It seems less than rational to break oneself down into various entities which are apparently incapable of functioning as a whole.  Just seems a bit like digression, a path down which I refuse to venture.  Anyway, that is why I shan’t use the phrase.

Besides, Jim knows that he actually does believe his eyes – it’s just that, Jim expected 1 of 7 things when he opened the front door.  And a love stricken mermaid who suddenly seemed very much un-mermaid-like (in that she had somehow acquired legs) standing there in front of his muffin house was not one of those 7 things.

The Seven Things I Indeed was Expecting:

1. Rico wanting to cover my muffin house with a rain tarp (rain is no good on a muffin house)

2. A flaming brown sack of dog duce left by the kids who kick cans

3. Girls scouts with shotguns

4. Jimmy Johns looking for my neighbor who lives in a biscuit

5. Eli

6. An escaped and hungry lion from Loony Larry’s Lion Land

7. Tim Tebow looking for a place to crash for the night

You see, then, why Jim was certainly more than a tid bit surprised to find Jeninarah (that’s the mermaids name…and don’t worry, you won’t have to remember it long)

Don’t ruin the story.

Sorry.  Too late I guess.  I didn’t want to write much about it anyway.

Turns out that while Jeninarah was really quite beautiful, and seemed to like Jim, and Jim seemed to like her, and they hit it off really well, and things were going great, and stuff, Jeninarah was still a mermaid and Jim a human living in a muffin.  Thus we see why it just couldn’t work between them.

Well, it actually could have, but Jeninarah only stuck around long enough for Jim to take a liking to her and to allow him to convince himself to put himself out on the shaky limb of vulnerability.  She then quietly, and with little-to-no explanation, abandoned ship, ne’er to return.

And that, my friends, is what happens when a man who lives in a muffin is blinded by the light of an elusive creature who deceivingly takes shape somewhere between illusion and disillusion and with whom a forlorn acquaintanceship dangles between frayed strands of hope and desperation.

So I kicked the rocks from my figurative path of progression and pressed onward.

Which brings me to the next exciting chapter of Jim’s life.

Brenton, may I?

Of course Jim.

So, shortly after Jeninarah left me in a troubled state of confusion and crushed hopes.  I sat pondering my predicament when suddenly I had to sneeze.  Now a normal sneeze would typically come and go without delay, but this was one that troubled me deeply.  It couldn’t decide whether to escape my head or to retreat back to that part of the body where annoying and even disastrous sneezes are stored, only to be released at a most inconvenient time (while eating a crumbly cookie perhaps, or drinking highly acidic orange juice with heavy pulp).

I decided to employ my never-fail-to-execute-a-sneeze technique which can be administered as follows:

1. Memorize the chorus of the less than popular (for good reason) country song entitled “Mrs. Steven Rudy”

2. Scrunch nose and push sideways (to the right) using only the muscles in your face

3. Sing the chorus of “Mrs. Steven Rudy” until the top of your nasal cavity is tickled enough to release

I commenced, and it worked wonderfully, as always.  However, upon opening my eyes post-sneeze, I found myself in Rico’s kitchen.  Not just in the kitchen…I found myself scrunched up in a ball inside the oven next to a batch of Rico’s famous blueberry muffins!

You can take it from here Brenton.

Thank you Jim.

Do you understand what this means folks?!  Do you understand what just happened?!  If you don’t, keep reading, cause I’m about to explain.

Jim was uncomfortable with the heat of the oven, so he immediately kicked down the oven door and emerged (to Rico’s great surprise). Jim had tel-ported from one muffin to another!  His never-fail sneeze technique had apparently turned mutinous with Jim’s inhabiting of a muffin house, resulting in the ability to tel-port from muffin to muffin with a simple sneeze ritual.

Rico quickly realized the potential of such a gift and soon suggested Jim place muffins at strategic locations around town in order to capitalize on this amazing new form of travel.

So I did.  

A week later, Jim sneeze-muffined his way to the grocery store.  However, when he arrived, he found he wasn’t at the grocery store.  Jim’s pre-placed muffin had been moved.  And it was a place Jim never could ever have even imagined to expect he would end up in all his days which were, and are, or would be.

Look for Chapter 3 to find out where Jim landed?!!

And don’t be shy.  Like. Dislike. Comment. Share. Tweet.  Whatevs. Thanks.

I’m out.

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Chapter 1 – Why Jim’s Church is Different – and how that’s relevant

It’s not that Jim’s pre-muffin-house days were dull.  It’s more that Jim’s post-muffin-house days are not in the least dull at all. Nope.  Before, Jim would do things like sing in the shower.

Tralalala.

And he would go to school and to work and to home and to friends’ homes.  Jim likes to run and play and train animals, and he plays games, and his hair is black.  Pretty normal right?  And he still likes to do those things and what not, but you’re wondering.  You’re wondering what the big difference is now.

The big difference is church.

Jim’s muffin is too far from his old church so on his first post-muffin Sunday he started going to a new church.  That’s not so crazy in and by itself, but here’s the thing, Jim’s new church is full of interesting characters:

That’s a nice way of saying ‘freaks’ (which is a word you should never use in reference to humans unless you’re old enough to blog responsibly).

Rico: You already met him.  He’s the Muffin Dude.

Stall:  He’s technically a giant, but no one holds that against him.  He’s cheerful, thrifty, has a great singing voice, and recently learned how to do yoga.  His only down fall is he will duce drop anywhere to be funny.

If you don’t know what that means, don’t look it up.

Eli: Traveled to the present day in a time machine wearing only two holsters and a boot.  He doesn’t say much, but when he does, people listen.  He prefers to be naked, but politely acquiesces to the church’s zero tolerance ‘cover-it-up-on-Sunday’ policy.

Marto: (more emphasis on the ‘o’ than the ‘a’…Mart’o’). Very athletic and a wise philosopher of important things.  Everyone used to think he had an anger problem, but then found out his parents just had his mid-range vocals removed before playing in the 1984 men’s world hockey championship game at age 9.  There’s actually not a mean bone in his body.

Clawd: She tends nursery and has a potty mouth (but never around the kids).  Holds her own with all the guys, but maintains a respectful amount of femininity – unless she’s playing cards.

That’s where the profanity rears its ugly head.

Dal: Is always late.

Keese: The first and only syllable of his name is generally followed by the noun ‘bot’. Not sure on why. But he fries up some mean catfish, and never says ‘no’ to a cold glass of lemonade.

He could also sell an egg to a chicken.

Dal: (cont’d) A real treat on the geetarskinnier than a tray, but easy-on-the-eyes (so they say).  Most folk believe him to be the reincarnated James Dean and Steve McQueen. Yes. Both.

Tarm: Was lost and now is found.  Quiet.  Nicknamed ‘Sneak Attack Jack in Black Yo’ but rarely called that.  He plays the banjo to injured animals at the shelter on weekends, and has a mutation.

Which we won’t reveal at this point.

That should do it on introductions for now. Whatevs.

Back to Jim’s story.

Jim’s first church social outing was in the lake.  Most church socials are near a lake or by a lake or on a lake, but Jim’s first church social at his new church was in the lake.

I don’t swim.

It didn’t really matter though, because it turns out that anyone and everyone who goes to Jim’s new church doesn’t have to abide by certain laws of the universe.  One of them being:

‘Humans cannot, and will not, breath under water’

When Jim showed up in the lake with everyone else, Rico and Stall hooked up with him and began briefing Jim on the main activity.  The main activity? Catching these squatty little purple mermaids with thick curly hair.  We’re talking curly like those really tight tight curls.  And there’s a million of them (a million curls, not mermaids).  Kind of like you took all the springs from a trampoline, cut off one end of all of them, and hung the other ends from the same point on a ceiling.  Maybe that’s a bad description.

Oh well.  You get the point.

They get the point.

The process went kind of like this:

1. You take a slab of meat and tie it to a line.

2. You send it out towards a school of squatty purple mermaids and tease them with it.

3. (omitted)

4. When one of them takes a bite, you reel her in.

5. Nobody knows

because nobody caught one that day. Turns out the moon was full the night before, and the mermaids all had plenty to eat. Or it was fished out by other people.

There. Whatever.  That’s deep stuff.  Don’t worry about it. Worry about this…

Everybody went home happy.  Why? Because it turns out that sometimes church is about catching mermaids, and sometimes it’s about making friends with Jim.  This time it was about making friends with Jim.

However, that’s not all that happened while Jim was on the bottom of the lake meeting new friends and fishing for squatty purple curly mermaids.  While Rico what chatting with the guys, and Stall was poking his head out of the water watching for boats,

Or a place to duce drop.

Jim wandered off around a bed of coral where he stooped to take a breather.  Suddenly.  There.  In the distance.  He spotted a figure.  Upon closer observation he realized it was a beautiful young mermaid (very different from the squatty ones he’d just left).  In her hands were mer-drops.

The tears of a mermaid.

It seems her heart had been broken by a recent lover, and now she mourned. Jim approached cautiously to console.  After a polite expression of condolences and some idle chit chat about lake life, Jim excused himself and returned to his friends.

A bit of giddiness lingered in his chest. But he suppressed it. And by the time he arrived home to his muffin, he had managed to extinguish it with justifications of hopelessness.

But do not despair! For this was not how Jim’s day was to end.  After a cold glass of milk and a bite of his home, Jim settled down on his cushy muffin bed with a book.  And at the precise moment that Jim opened his book…

There was a knock at the door, and I had to get up.

When Jim opened the door his eyes grew wide and his heart began to beat irregularly.  For there before him stood the tearful-mermaid-who’s-heart-was-broke-and-Jim-met-on-the-lake-floor, in land form.

Click here to read about How Jim Came to Live in a Muffin.

Click here to learn more about the writer.

Please add comments below to express your feelings, such as: dislike, like, pain, happiness, joy, or advice on Jim’s future, etc.

And feel free to share with anyone who you think would be interested in knowing what it’s like to live in a muffin. Peace.

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Chapter 0 – How Jim Comes to Live in a Muffin

I don’t know why in the heck you’d want to know about how Jim came to live in a muffin.  Most people don’t like living in muffins, or even talking about it.  They’re small and there’s very little moving-around-room, and frankly it’s a bit embarrassing.  However, Jim finds it quite nice, he says.

I find it quite nice.  (Jim talks in italics and has done since pre-muffin days).

Rico is the reason Jim lives in a muffin.  He’s a friend.  Rico fights for money, not money, just fun.  He fights at a gym in the town.  He also likes to bake muffins.  Jim says Rico’s muffins are tasty. Rico’s muffins ARE tasty.

I like to eat them as well, but Rico mostly gives them away to people.  That’s why every single person has named him the Muffin Person. Or Guy.  I don’t remember.

Rico made a really really big muffin last Tuesday, and Jim said he wanted to move in.

I want to move in.

So he moved in.  And that’s how Jim came to live in a muffin.  Not too exciting right?

What IS exciting is what happened to Jim after he moved into the muffin….

Click HERE to find out about it yo.

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