Fluff in Brooklyn - latest additions

43- "$25,000 a Year, Plus All the Raisins You Can Eat!"

43- "$25,000 a Year, Plus All the Raisins You Can Eat!"

[[At Badger & Badger]]
Shelly: Hi, my name is Shelley. I've heard great things about Badger&Badger Law Firm, and I....
Badger 1: SILENCE! Badger, I don't think her nostrils can flare enough.
Badger 2: Badger, I think we should give her a chance, Nostrils aren't the only thing you need in this job.

Badger 1: But Badger, how are we going to fit the stapler in her nose if she can't flare her nostrils?
Badger 2: Ah, Badger, you DO have a point. You, LLAMA! Flare NOW! Of you want his job!
Shelly: Um...okay?

Badger 2: Hmmm, I guess you're right, Badger. The stapler is never going to fit. Sorry, no job for you. Get out.
Shelly: But...
Badger 1: Oh wait! How about we do the aluminum can test instead?

Badger 2: The aluminum can test! Genius! See this is why I like you
Badger 1: Shucks, Badger, I learnt it all from you!

Shelly: Sirs, I'm really sorry, but I don't think I can fit an aluminum can in my nose, nor would I want to. I think I should...

Badger 1: Hahahaha! Aluminum can up the NOSE! That's ridiculous! Hahahahaha! Hahahaha! Oh Badger She's FUNNY!
Badger 2: Hahaha! Oh god, Badger, I just peed a little! We could use a funny Llama in the office. You're hired! Now open those boxes and sort the contents by how much each thing reminds you of Phyllis Diller or the color eggplant.

Shelly: Um...Thanks?
Badger: Welcome to Badger&Badger

31- Just Sit Right Back and You'll Hear a Tale

31- Just Sit Right Back and You'll Hear a Tale

[[Furboa's feet on gravel next to a palm tree trunk.]]

[[The palm tree acts as a divider in the next two panels. Also in the next two panels Furboa is facing right in the left-hand panel, and left in the right-hand panel as he has the a conversation with himself.]]
Furboa: I spy with my little...
Furboa: A tree.
Furboa: Man, you're friggin' FRIGGTABULOUS at this game!
Furboa: Aw..you're too sweet.
Furboa: So um...we've been stranded on this deserted island like 5 weekdays..Ithink it's about time we got to the baby makin'.

[[Like the previous two panels, Furboa continues to have a conversation with himself.]]
Furboa: I'm not sure...
Furboa: Not sure?! But I wrote it in my planner. In INK!
Furboa: Today? I'm not sure if I can do today. I'm kinda in the middle of that decoupage project.

[[Camera pulls out to show that the gravel, palm, and Furboa are all in a white and blue pot.]]
Furboa: There'll be plenty o' time for decoupaging pictures of Moa Zedong to a coconut tomorrow. I WANNA MAKE SOME BABIES!
Shelley: I'm pretty sure this isn't worth the $100 I save on rent...

136- Shelley Almost Breaks Out the Brass Hooves

136- Shelley Almost Breaks Out the Brass Hooves

{{Comic title: "136- Shelley Almost Breaks Out the Brass Hooves"}}

[[Shelley and Derby are sitting on the couch. Shelley is reading "the house of the scorpion". Derby has the TV remote.]]
<<Loud throat clearing sound.>>
Derby: Dude, get the door it's the pizza guy.
Shelley: I'm pretty sure "the pizza guy" would ring the doorbell rather than just clear his throat loudly.

Derby: Then why does it smell like ham and pineapple?
Quadrupedal dinosaur: Told you. You've got on way too much cologne.
Bipedal dinosaur: Oh, be quiet.

<<Loud throat clearing sound.>>
[[Bipedal dinosaur holds up a ransom note written on a silly shopping list pad which says, "Tadpole! We have the rat. Give us the time machine + we will not hurt him! <3 Gertrude"]]
Derby: What the... *reads* Holy crap! You kidnapped Furboa!
Bipedal dinosaur: On January 31st!

Bipedal dinosaur: Don't worry, he's fine... we think. He kinda zapped back in time with two of our friends. Just give us the time machine and we'll go and bring him back.
Shelley: Okay, he may drive me crazy but no one messes with my roommate and gest away with it! Hope you have some good health insurance, cuz I'm going to tear your...

Derby: Wait! I think he's telling the truth... Just let me give them the time machine.
Shelley: Wait... really have a...
Derby: Well, it's harder to buy them now, but I got mine in the 80s. I still have it.

[[Derby speaks from off-panel as Shelley looks around.]]
Derby: ...somewhere.
Shelley: Somewhere?

[[In the center of the next four panels, the narrator describes the action]]
Gary the Narrator: And so Shelley, the Army Men, and the mini-dinos all began to tear apart the apartment, while Derby, who obviously wouldn't leave the couch, helped by describing the missing time machine as "metallic or something" and also helped by putting on an episode of "Lost" (the one where Sahid was shirtless for most of it... you know, THAT one.)

[[Shelley is looking in a desk cubby crammed with paper.]]
Shelley: No person could ever use this many dog-centric return address labels...

[[Shelley is on a closet floor strews with oddments.]]
Shelley: Has anyone ever opened this closet?

[[The dinos appear to be searching the inside of the oven. An apatosaur dangles precariously on the top rack.]]
Apatosaur: Where're the seatbelts?

[[A spiky-tailed dinosaur is searching through the video games, walking on a Game Genie box.]]
Spike-tail: Maybe we can just wish ourselves back... or just play Whomp 'Em for a bit while we think about where it might be. Huh? Anyone?

[[An unidentified voice (probably a dino) is looking at a device of some kind (I believe it's a steam iron) and speaks from off-panel.]]
Uknown: We've found it! We've found it! It must be. I mean you guys don't even wear clothes! Look! It even has detailed diagrams about what decade you want to visit and what kind of weather you want that day!
Derby (from off-panel): Nope. Not it. I use it to straighten my hair.
Unknown (probably Shelly) from off-panel: I didn't even know you had hair, Derby.

[[A mortar Army Man is looking at a picture of two teenaged dancers.]]
Unknown (from off-panel): We aren't getting too far. Maybe we should just visit the Department of Misplaced Persons.
Mortar Army Man (to picture): You there! Tell me all you know about time machines!

{{End}}

17- Keep On Your Leg Digits, Men!

17- Keep On Your Leg Digits, Men!

Army Man: That's it men! Fight! Forward line back. Side line front. Focus! The win shall be ours!

[[Armymen are on a Dance Dance Revolution DDR mat.]]

Army Man: Never give up! Never surrender! Don't be afraid to dance with your arms, too.

Army Man 2: Wait a minute...is that...oh my god! Look! It's Super Tadpole!

Army Man 3: Super Tadpole!
Army Man 4: My kids are goign to be so excited!
Army Man 5: Wow!
Army Man 6: I can't believe it's really him!

[[An armyman swoons.]]

Army Man: Private Johnson?

[[All armymen stand around Johnson's unconscious body as if they were at a funeral.]]

Army Man: He fought bravely. He shall be remembered.

16- Sue, Sue, Suuuud-e-oooooooh Yeeeeah

16- Sue, Sue, Suuuud-e-oooooooh Yeeeeah

Army Man: Men, this is General...
Furboa: President!
Army Man: um...President Furboa Jerboa of the 2nd Rank Windsor Terrace Regiment. He's a highly renowed expert in the French Revolution, specializing in 100% historically accurate reinactments. Today he is guiding us through our recreation of the Battle at Marengo.

[[We see Furboa on a Dance Dance Revolution DDR Mat.]]

Furboa: I was thinking more along the lines of the Battle of Shake-Your-Bon-Bon or maybe the Battle of the Phil Collins Dance Remix...

15- You Say You Want a Revolution...

15- You Say You Want a Revolution...

[[Shelley opens the front door to see tons of little armymen.]]

Shelley: Can I help you?

Army man: We're here for the reinactment.

Shelley: I'm sorry I think you have the wrong...
Fuboa: Yay! You're here! Come on in!

Armyman: You must be General Jerboa. I've heard so many good things about you. It's an honor, sir.

Furboa: Please Lieutenant. There's no need for that kind of formality here. You can just call me President. Or Master Commander of Presidentness. No wait, how about Grand President of the Universe in charge of all lesser Presidents destroyer of poverty, disease, sitcoms, small yappy dogs...

14- What Spuds Mackenzie Left Behind

14- What Spuds Mackenzie Left Behind

Fuzzwig: Okay, time for plan 1.0. Codename "Jealous Llama." <<clears throat>> I'm sorry little white goldfish named Darva who I am dating and who is madly in love with me, our relationship is over. I'm breaking up with you.

[[Shelley has entered the scene.]]

Fuzzywig: Please Dear ex-girlfriend. Stop your beggin. I will not take you back. Please stop beggin on your knees...um...fins...gills? uh...Shelley...he...hey.

Shelley: Hey fuzz, do you know if those paper milk cartons get put in the paper or the plastics? I always forget because it's cardboard but it's got that plasticy film thing over it. I know it's the opposite of whatever I think it is, but I can't remember what I think it is anymore...and Furboa took the recycling cartoon magnet off the fridge for "testing." I'm pretty sure I don't want to know what that means.

Fuzzywig: Uh.....

[[Ten minutes pass]]

Fuzzywig: hhhhhh....

[[Furboa enters with Floyd]]
Shelley: Um. I think I'll just ask Derby.
Furboa: Ew, it smells like wet dog ghost in here!
Fuzzywig: hhhhhh....

13- Damn, the Afterlife's a Drag

13- Damn, the Afterlife's a Drag

[[Spuds MacKenzie is floating in the air in front of the fish tank with Darva, George, and Mo, talking to Professor Fuzzywig.]]

Fuzzywig: You're here to help ME?!

Spuds MacKenzie: Yup. Just trying to finish up some community service I got for teaching 10-year-olds how to surf.
Fuzzywig: Wait, that's not illegal...

Spuds MacKenzie: Those kids sucked at surfing. Only one ever really mastered my beer funneling and making-out with 25-year-old women surfing style. Who knew community service carried over into the afterlife. Hold on a sec.
Fuzzywig: Um...okay.

Spuds MacKenzie: Chrissi! You know the uniform regulations. I'm going to have to bar you from official play if you show up one more time in a tankini! You might as well wear a muumuu! And Marianne, stop actually hitting the ball. Just run around near where it falls. Now, leave me alone, I'm helping a microscope get some ass.

Fuzzywig: Actually, I'm an amoeba. I just live on two sandwiched microscope slides.
Spuds MacKenzie: You're a what? I have to make a llama fall in love with an amoeba? Crap...that's a lot harder. Um...are you sure you don't just want an autograph?

12- Nothing a Dog Named After a Potato Can't Fix

12- Nothing a Dog Named After a Potato Can't Fix

[[Professor Fuzzywig is standing in front of the fishtank and we see Darva, George, and Mo swimming around.]]

Fuzzwig: What am I going to do?

Shelley is driving me mad. I can't think of anything but that llama.

If I had arm pits they'd be dirty, hot, sweaty pockets of dirty, hot, sweaty cancerous old man stink.

Oh, Shelley...it's like she can't see me...which, I mean, literally she can't, but she doesn't have to go along with the metaphoric as well..

I'm going to be a single amoeba forever...
spuds mckenzie: Maybe I can help...

[[We see a floating glowing ghost Spuds McKenzie.]]

Fuzzywig: Special Guest Celebrity Spuds Mckenzie!!!
Spuds Mckenzie: Keep playing volleyball girls...I'll be back in a second.

11- Topanga Puddin' & the Mystery of the Single Soy

11- Topanga Puddin' & the Mystery of the Single Soy

[[Furboa is standing in front of the open fridge]]

Furboa: Yo! Cut me some slack, I've got a snack attack, I may not own a Mac, but i love puddin' sna...HEY!

[[Furboa is standing in the fridge staring at an empty pudding package]]

Furboa: Fess up! Who stole it? Where's my puddin' snack? You don't mess with a man's puddin. It's one of the sacred rules of shared fridges!

[[Furboa is now in the crisper]]

Furboa: That's it! I am NOT leaving this crisper until one of you confesses to pilfering my puddin'!
Derby: Shame...because Boy Meets World is starting.

Furboa: Um...pre-marriage?
Derby: Yup. It's even in the Topanga cooties era...

Furboa: Alright, I'll watch. You're just lucky you didn't touch my soy sauce.

[[We see Furboa's lucky soy sauce on the shelf.]]