There was once an intrepid explorer named Hank who decided to set off on a journey of discovery and find the fabled 'Purple Bogey.' He had previously done some research on the Green Bogey and had been on the team that had analysed the Red Bogey four years ago. Using his incredible mind, he decided that he would need to prepare quite early on for this quest, for he knew of many people who had returned after failing their quest for the much sought after Purple Bogey. So Hank M. Spank caught the bus into town and bought a pair of swimming goggles and a briefcase. He then walked to the train station and made the first part of his of his historic journey in pursuit of the great unknown Purple Bogey. The train ride was rather uneventful, although Hank did lose three of his fingers to the camel owned by the old lady who was sitting next to him.
The train moved slowly along the tracks for three days and forty nights, then it finally stopped at the foot of a dark, dark mountain. He picked up his duvet and rucksack and headed for the path that led to the top of the mountain. Quivering, he put one foot down on the beginning of the track. Then he hauled out his trusty camers and took a photo. He began to climb. His heart was bouncing around in his stomach, knocking all his other organs out of place. The birds were tweeting in the trees, streams were gurgling, insects were buzzing. Suddenly there was a huge ROARRR!!! A big hairy bogey came galumphing down the hill. For a moment Hank stood dumbstruck, his heart almost squeezing out his nose, (he had a very bouncy heart) then he realised that it was just a common lesser-spotted dark pink bogey. Maybe he was becoming a little obsessed, seing things that weren't there.
He whacked his head with a spoon to clear his thoughts and continued on his epic quest. The journey to the top of the mountain was extremely uneventful after this incident. At midday the next day, Hank finally arrived at the hut on top of the mountain. He stretched out his arms and looked around him. Off in the distance there was another mountain, and far below, there was a huge orange and blue spotted lake. Strangely enough, this landscape did not puzzle him. For, after years of working with and researching bogies his brain had become slightly muddled. He often tried arguing with the grass in his backyard.
Suddenly a huge green bottom flew out of the sky and landed on Hank's head!
"Mmphh mmmhph phhmmp mmphhhmm" he said.
This bottom was really heavy and after a while, couln't support it for any longer. His head dropped to one side and he went tumbling down the mountain. But dear oh dear, he went down the same side he had just come up. When he finally managed to pull the big green bottom off his head, he pulled up his trousers, put on a touch of eye-liner and set off again. For Hank M. Spank the intrepid explorer was not one to give up so easily.
After another day's climbing he again reached the top of the mountain. He shaded his eyes with his hand and looked around the alien landscape. Suddenly, from out of the sky, flew a huge, hairy, red bottom! AAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!! The sky was raining bottoms!!! And...gaw, one managed to lodge itself on Hank's head. He tried to yank it off but it had formed a suction on his head. And boy, did it stink. Phew. Whoever had previously owned this bottom had not looked after it very well. Now the bottom was getting heavy... Hank felt his head drop to one side...and whee!! Down the mountain he wheeeed bouncy bouncy bouncy.
He reached the bottom and sat there dazed, with the bottom still firmly wedged upon his shoulders.
Suddenly... (Damn! Not another suddenly!) Hank heard a voice. No, it wasn't the voice of his long lost 5th cousin twice removed. It was a strange, booming voice that echoed through every crack and crevice.
"Give me back my bottom!" it said.
"What one?" asked Hank.
"The blue one!" it said.
"Haven't seen it. Will you take a pink one?"
"No!!!!" shouted the voice. "That's my brother's."
Hank sighed and asked if his brother would be needing it.
"As a matter of fact, he doesn't need it. he's just had a special custom-made bottom crafted for him out of the finest cockabully fur." said the voice. "So I guess you can keep it."
You may be wondering how Hank can speak so clearly when he has a bottom stuck on his head. The fact is, we had to hire a few translators in the making of this story. When the voice speaks, it is actually speaking in ancient Swedish, but, for the good of the story, it has been translated. We also hired a man who specialises in translating for people who have bottoms stuck to their heads. The last person we hired was a woman aptly named 'The Jolly Poacher' after her great uncle 'Mr. Frederick Flintstone.' Some would say that they had unfortunate names, but that would just be an opinion. She specialises in making rabbit and lawnmower soup, but as we later discovered that bottoms are, in fact, vegetarians, she was made redundant. We then hired her brother 'The Jolly Toaster' who makes the best toe-clipping crumpets you are ever likely to try. Wow. Where were we? Oh yes. Hank began to search for a blue bottom. Well there you go. After two hours of non-stop searching, Hank finally found the nose....hold a sec, wasn't he searching for a bottom? AAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!! screamed Hank. But waddya know, as he picked up the blue nose he had found, he caught sight of something purple and irresistibly tasty...was it...could it be...it was!
Hank pulled out his inflatible finger and pressed the 'inflate' button. The finger expanded in a whoosh! of air. He then took a hold of the finger and stuck it in the left nostril. Wow. A real, true genuine bogey! But not just any bogey, this was The Fabled Purple Bogey!!!
Hank sat down slowly, still unable to comprehend the hugeness of this find. He would be famous. Who cared about finding the voice's blue bottom, he had enough to think about now. Wow. Hank carefull y placed the wonderful purple bogey into a Glad bag and tucked it into his sock. When Hank had attended enough functions and gone on enough TV shows to last him a lifetime, he settled down in Bogeysville and set up a school, educating youngsters about bogeys.