It was a dark and stormy night. A disconsolate moose sat under a tree, its head in its hooves. If you’ve never seen a moose do this, you haven’t really lived.

Josh the moose was known to his friends as Krusty. This had a lot to do with why he was disconsolate. Instead of nice thick brown moose hair, Krusty was covered with a crusty, smelly skin rash. It stank to heaven, and it was disgusting.

“That’s it”, said Krusty. I’m sick of this rash. I have to get it cured. I’m going to the doctor.

“Wait”, said the narrator. “What kind of a story would that make? You need to go on a quest”.

“Right,” said Krusty. A quest. I’m going on a quest to get rid of this rash. I’ll start in the morning.”

Early the next morning Krusty trotted into a clearing with a hut. In front of the hut sat Jaqs the Hyper-caffeinated, holding a baby on each hip.

“Hi, I’m Krusty,” said our hero.

“Ewwww, you certainly are”, said Jaqs. “And you smell.”

“Yeah,” said Krusty. “Any ideas? And what’s with the babies?”

“Those are my brothers,” said Jaqs, kicking Krusty in the knee.

“Ouch! What was that for?”

“Seemed fun. Look, I don’t do skin rashes. Maybe you should see Beneiman the Tune-ificent.. He lives far, far away.”

“Awww, fooey,” said Krusty. Actually, that isn’t exactly what he said, but we’re cleaning this story up. “I don’t want to go so far.”

“Hold on,” said Jaqs. She placed one brother on each of Krusty’s antlers and disappeared into the hut. She returned with a tray of drinks and retrieved her brothers. “Drink these.”

Four minutes later, a rather jumpy and excited Krusty trotted into Beneiman’s courtyard on the other side of the continent. Talking rather quickly, he said “Hi, I’m Krusty! Are you Beneiman the Tune-ificient? Because I’m looking for him and I thought maybe if you were then I could get very excited because I feel pretty jumpy and-“

“Ewwww”, interrupted Beneiman. “Speak into the microphone. No, wait. Sound check. Can you play drums?”

“Check out the hooves,” observed Krusty, waving one.

“Right,” said Beneiman. “Never mind. You know, ‘Krusty the Moose’ would be a great name for a band. Let me just lay down some tracks, here, and I’ll mix them up, and….”

“Actually, said Krusty, “I’m looking for someone who can help me with this skin rash.”

“What do I look like, a doctor?” said Beneiman.

“No”, said Krusty. “In fact you don’t even look like an arab. You look like a dane in a black bathrobe. What’s up with that?”

”I’m a Danish ninja arab. Go with it.”

“Ummm, OK. By the way, why are you guys so irritable? You’re always chanting about death and blowing people up and stuff. What gives?”

“Look”, said Beneiman, “if you had to go 1500 years with all the coffee you wanted and no alcohol at all, do you think YOU’D get a little testy?”

“Point taken”, said Krusty. “Look, are we going to banter all day or are you going to tell me the next stop on my quest?”

“Let me just do my pizza joke. Want some sausage pizza? I do a lot of pizza.”

Krusty squinted at the proffered treat. “Um, I think that sausage is my cousin Leah”.

Beneiman turned white and hastily said “Go see Abbie the Fabulous”.

Krusty said goodbye and trotted away. Soon he came to a beautiful garden. On a swing in the middle rested a lovely young lady.

“Are you Abbie the Fabulous?”, asked Krusty.

She gave him a dazzling smile and arched one eyebrow. “Fabulous and …..?”

“Wonderful?”

“And….?”

“uh, and Sweet?”

“And…?”

“Um, Charming?”

“AND….?”

“Er, Enchanting?”

“AND….?”

“Uh, Brilliant?”

“Why yes, that’s me. And you are?”

”Krusty”, replied our hero.

“Ewwww”, agreed Abbie.

“I think I’d like to stay here forever”, said Krusty, looking around the beautiful garden and gazing adoringly at the Fabulous One. “but I’m trying to fix this rash. Can you help?”

Abby gave another smile. “I’m sorry, rashes aren’t really my thing. I suggest Christopherus Walkerus, the great scientist.”

“Thank you,” said Krusty, and reluctantly left.

He soon came to a large workshop. Entering, he saw a tall young scientist seated at a computer. (Yes, they had computers.) He was playing Age of Empires and muttering “I’ve got to beat him next time. I can’t stand this. I just have to practice.” Krusty cleared his throat. “Hello, I’m Krusty”.

“Ewww”, said Christopherus, turning around.

“Maybe I’ll just change my name to “Ewww”, sighed Krusty. “Say, Abby-the-Fabby thought maybe you could fix this rash for me”.

Christopherus’ eyes lit up. “You bet I can! Get up on this table. Good. Now let me just put these on for safety…” He fastened Krusty down with heavy iron manacles.

“How are these for my safety?”, asked Krusty.

“I didn’t say YOUR safety”, replied the scientist, attaching electrodes to various spots of our nervous moose. “Now, I’ll just use an electromagnetic field at a high frequency to zap that rash. The magnetic flux as the field collapses should clear everything up… I hope… maybe.” He pushed back his pointy hat covered with stars and comets and went to a control panel. Krusty struggled to no avail. The scientist pushed a large red button. There was a flash and a cloud of smoke.

“Er, if you could get down that fire extinguisher behind you there….”, suggested Krusty, who was smoldering a bit more than he would have liked.

“Sure, sure, let me put that out”, stammered the scientist. He extinguished our hero and undid the manacles. “Those burns look pretty nasty. Say, I know a good doctor who can give you some skin grafts…. I get a bulk discount from him…”

“Thanks, but you’ve done plenty,” Krusty replied, somewhat tartly. “Besides, this may be crusty and smelly, but it grows back fast. I’ll be as bad as always in no time. Do you know anybody who could actually help?”

“Try Warren the Prolonged, one forest over. He knows some tricks. Good luck to you.” The scientist turned back to his computer. “Maybe if I upgrade to mangonel and sneak up on him next time….”

Krusty wandered somewhat gingerly down the indicated forest path. He was becoming discouraged, and the burns were tender. He was lost in thought when two giants leapt out of the bushes and blocked his path. They were in gym clothes and carrying a basketball.

“Who are you?”, said Krusty.

“Ewwww”, replied the giants, looking at the moose.

“No, that’s ME. Who are YOU?”

“We’re Joel and Tal, the basketballers. Let’s get him, Tal!” said the one who apparently was Joel.

Krusty turned to run but before he could take a step they were in front of him chanting “SHOOT dribble dribble dribble FAKE dribble dribble dribble PASS dribble dribble dribble.” No matter where Krusty turned they blocked him with their fancy footwork and pinpoint passing. He finally sat back and watched them. They were pretty impressive. He said “You know, with that chant and that footwork, you’re almost dancing.” At the word “dancing” both giants shrieked in horror and bolted off the path. Krusty listened as their crashing through the bushes dwindled away to silence. “Hmmm. I’ll have to remember that trick,” he thought. He continued down the path.

Soon he came to a funny, rundown house. He knocked and was told to enter. There he saw a skinny guy with a shiny bald head. He had a worship leader strapped to a table with electrodes attached to him. The subject was repeatedly singing that beloved praise chorus, “I’m just going to lift you up and praise you because you fill your lambs.” Every time he got to “lambs” he let out a shriek as the skinny guy punched a button and delivered a nasty shock. But then he would start singing again.

“What on earth are you doing?” asked the moose.

“Aversion therapy,” said the shiny one. “But it’s not working well. If he can stand that music he can stand anything. Who are you?”

“I’m Ewwww”, said our hero.

“Ewwww”, agreed the prolonged one.

“Did I stutter?” asked the moose.

“No,” said the other. “It’s just, I mean…. Oh, never mind. I am Warren, the Prolonged.”

“What’s prolonged about you?”

“I was cursed on my 13^th birthday. I’ve been a teenager for almost 36 years.”

“Wow, that’s rough”, said Krusty.

“Oh, I don’t know. The music is really good. And my skin finally cleared up. But then my hair fell out.”

“Nothing teenaged about that,” observed the moose.

“Oh, I seem to be an adult, too. Floss after you eat. Look both ways. Did you say thank you? Don’ touch that! You don’t know where it’s been. Be careful! See?”

“Wow,” said Krusty. “You sure you’re a teen?”

“Oh yeah,” said the Prolonged One. “I’m down with my bad self. I’m sick in my phat crib, homey-dog, fo-shizzle. Word.”

Krusty paled and slumped against the wall.

“Uh, I stock airline sickness bags in that pouch there….” Observed Warren.

“Urk”, replied Krusty.

Warren waited in respectful silence until Krusty was done. “You OK?”

“Much better now”, said Krusty. “Don’t EVER do that again.”

“Sorry. Maybe that Prolonged thing is all a front.”

“Hey,” said Krusty, “Put on your grown-up hat and tell me how to fix this rash”.

“Look, if I knew how to deal with hair problems, do you think my head would look like this?”

Krusty squinted in the glare and conceded defeat. “So… who can help me??”

“Try princess Kalie. She’s just over the hill.”

Krusty went on his way. Soon he came to a beautiful castle. He wandered around until he found a fair maiden working in the bathroom. She was cutting up a solid gold bathtub with a blowtorch.

“Um… hi, I’m Krusty.”

“Ewwww”, said the princess, turning around. “Very crusty.”

“Are you princess Kalie?”

“Well, I was. But then I read ‘The Horse and His Boy’ and realized I have some distance to go to make legitimate royalty. So I’m selling all this stuff off and opening a soup kitchen.

“Wow,” said the moose. “You're on the right track. Go with it.”

“Say,” said the princess. “That's a pretty nasty rash. Do you think soup would help?”

“Soup? Doesn't seem very pharmaceutical. is that all you got?”

“Well yeah, ‘fraid so,” said The Royal One. “Go down the street and see the venerable Joost. he's got a handle on most things.”

Krusty went on his intrepid way. Down the street he came to a large house swarming with happy kids. the door was open but when he tried to go in he couldn’t move.

A wizard at a desk looked up. He had a large tankard of beer and a fat cigar.

“Wow,” said Krusty. “You’re some kind of wizard all right. You must have a powerful force field that prevents anyone from coming in without permission!”

The wizard stared levelly at the moose. “Either that,” he said, “or your antlers are stuck in the door.”

“Oh. Heh heh,” said Krusty, turning his head and entering. “I’m Krusty.”

“Ewwww”, said the Venerable Joost, wrinkling his nose. “You put the un in unclean.”

“Yeah. Think you can help?”

“I’m sure that Exodus says something about it,” said Joost, cracking open his Bible. “Let’s see… do you divide the hoof?”

“Not when I can help it!”

“Hmmm. Every had a plague of flies?”

“I’m a moose. Always.”

“Ah. If I just had a staff that turned in to a snake….”

“Is this going somewhere?”

“Well if you want to get all impatient about it, I don’t know what I can do. I figure if you listen to my 12 sermon series on the fringe of Aaron’s robe you might get somewhere, but you’re pretty pushy. Maybe you should try the good witch Nancy. She’s out in the valley to the East.”

“Well, thanks for the pointer”, said Krusty, carefully maneuvering out the door.

Krusty trotted East until he came to a beautiful grove of aspen and willows. Flowers were everywhere. There were weeds everywhere too, but they looked like really nice, happy weeds. There was a beautiful archway made of greenery between two trees. Krusty went through it and into a meadow.

In the middle of the meadow sat Nancy the good witch. The sun shone in a blue sky with fluffy white clouds. Little bunnies and cute fawns gamboled about with their big soft eyes trained on her. Flowers grew. Sweet scents filled the air. Pleasant music was heard in the distance.

“Really”, said Krusty, ”isn’t this a bit much?”

“Deal with it,” said the narrator. “Some things are just hard to overstate.”

“OK, OK.” Said the moose. “Hi, I’m Krusty.”

“Ewwwww”, agreed the good witch. “I’m Nancy, and I think I’ll order up some more flowers.”

“You look familiar”, said the moose.

“I did a gig with a bunch of munchkins under a pseudonym, but it didn’t pay the bills.”

“That must be it”, said the moose. “Say, I’m at my wits end, and I’ve talked to more wingnuts than you can imagine today. Can you help me with this rash?”

“Sure, no prob”, said the witch. “But you’ll have to fulfill seven heroic deeds first.”

“Let’s be reasonable,” said our moose. “I’m already eight pages into this clunker. There probably aren’t any readers left by now, and if there are, you can bet they won’t hang around for no seven heroic deeds.”

“Good point,” said The Good One. “Why don’t I just heal you.” She raised her wand.

“Wait! Wait!”, cried Krusty. “Don’t you know how fiction works? We need tension and resolution. Point and counter point. You can’t just pull a Deus ex Machina on me. Didn’t you take freshman writing?”

“Hmm. You’re right.” Nancy thought. “Tell you what. My husband hates cutting the grass and our last kid is heading to college. If you promise to cut our lawn and field every week until we move into some boxy retirement condo, I’ll heal you right now.”

“DONE!”, cried Krusty.

“DONE!”, cried Nancy, waving her wand.

And everyone lived happily ever after.

Josh: the lawn tractor is in our shed. Come see me for the key.