January 10, 2013 by Kriscinda
Keeping up with the blogging the last few days has been hard—I’ve actually been having a lot of really productive fiction-writing days, and when they come, I take them, no questions asked. (Moment of Brag: I’ve written over 8,000 words in three days, which, for me, is phenomenal). Yesterday’s Wordless Wednesday, though, served two purposes: 1) It freed me up to write other things, and 2) It served as an appetizer for today’s Spook introduction.
I know the Spook Brothers have been mentioned here and there on the blog, but today, for those who don’t know the Spooks, you get to see who they are and where they came from.
Way back in 2005 or 2006, I spent three weeks in France, the first of which was on my own. I’ve ever been a huge fan of taking random, peopleless pictures of places, so I brought along with me a small stuffed ghost to star in all my pictures and to keep me company. Spook is actually a TY Beanie Baby, though he is loathe to talk about his days in captivity (and don’t call him by his “slave name,” Ghoul). It’s tough hauling around a little white plush and trying not to get him too filthy. After about two years, the first Spook Body needed to be retired. I stocked up a little on Spook Bodies, he got a new plushy vehicle, and we were off to the UK, where I studied in Bath for a semester and visited various places, including my first time to Edinburgh (which I love).
When this Spook Body became a little worse for the wear, we broke out a fresh plush, but the old plush never got discarded. Much to our despair, Spook’s brother arrived to inhabit the new plush, so now we have Spook the Elder and Spook the Younger. Between the two of them, they’ve hobnobbed with famous spooks in Paris and London, twice romped with Nessie at Loch Ness, sat in on a few classes at Oxford, did a little fishing in Lunenburg, NS, and soaked up the sun down in Florida. Spook the Elder even did a little skiing in Denver. Or, so they say—we’ve never witnessed any of this.
We don’t know a whole lot about Spook the Younger, still. We’re better acquainted with the Elder. Spook the Elder owns and operates both a modelling agency (International Plush, Inc) and a dance school (Spookerton Dance Academy) (you should see his moves). We are, to him, merely his handlers as he jets across the globe. We take care of the logistics and function as photographers only because he’s too cheap to hire professionals.
Oh, and they both hate us. They hates all ‘meatbags’ and spend most of their downtime discussing the different ways to kill us, their preferred method of execution seems to be stabbing. Strangely, though, they are both extremely anal about their appearance—get a little schmutz on their mitts and all hell breaks loose.
Spook anatomy: Guts: beans. Hands: mitts. Head: do-whip. Eyes: abysses. Skin: plush. “Plush” is also a verb meaning “good.” (Stabbing meatbags is so plush.) “Brick” is another spook term meaning that something is “bad.” (Getting blood on your mitts is totally brick.) Also, “filthbag” means “cat.” (Kill that filthbag.) Their two go-to words to describe everything that you do are “sick” and “disgusting,” no matter what it is that you’re doing.
The Spook brothers hail from Spookland and we have no idea who they were before they died, though they sometimes wax nostalgically about their childhoods as little spooks (we think they full of it). They attended Spooky University, and at every mention of education or sports, they will put up a mitt and yell, “Go Spookies!” They often refer to their four years at Spooky U as a reason for us to think they are smarter than we are and therefor better. Almost daily they ask us to “run to Quik-E-Soul” to grab them a “soul pizza with extra soul” and are daily surprised and appalled that we do not have Quik-E-Souls here.
Any song on the radio can be re-written to be about the Spooks and stabbing meatbags. Every single last song on the radio, any station, any genre, any era of music. Spook the Elder, though, is particularly fond of Jazz Fusion (I wouldn’t have thought that myself).
There’s more; I’m sure there is. But when you live with them, it all blends together in one long dark night of stabbing threats and whining about when their next “shoot” is (which will probably be Florida again). So, there you have it.
They hang around the house swearing at the cat and begging us for everything they see on TV (they’re worse than kids), but they truly shine when we get to do some traveling. (They are under the assumption that we only travel because we’ve booked them a modeling gig, which is never actually true.)
Starting Friday, if they get enough of a response, we will begin a weekly segment called Ask Spook, where you readers can ask the Spook Brothers for their advice on any topic. You will likely not get any decent advice, but I think we might learn a thing or two about our plushy friends. Please send your questions/comments to: firstname.lastname@example.org with the subject line “Spooky Advice” and their secretary (me) will pass it along.