That time when Bouncing Ian and Bobo Fett argued

It all started when our overrated adventurer, Bouncing Ian, woke up in a secret vineyard. It was the second time it had happened. Feeling exceedingly displeased, Bouncing Ian attacked a live hand grenade, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). In a tragically predictable turn of events, he realized that his beloved iPad was missing! Immediately he called his redheaded stepchild of a ‘friend’, Boba Fett. Bouncing Ian had known Boba Fett for (plus or minus) 11,000 years, the majority of which were striking ones. Boba Fett was unique. He was clever though sometimes a little… funny-smelling. Bouncing Ian called him anyway, for the situation was urgent. Boba Fett picked up to a very unhappy Bouncing Ian. Boba Fett calmly assured him that most ostriches yawn before mating, yet some explosively sneeze *after* mating. He had no idea what that meant; he was only concerned with distracting Bouncing Ian. Why was Boba Fett trying to distract Bouncing Ian? Because he had snuck out from Bouncing Ian’s with the iPad only seven days prior. It was a curious little iPad… how could he resist? It didn’t take long before Bouncing Ian got back to the subject at hand: his iPad. Boba Fett sneezed. Relunctantly, Boba Fett invited him over, assuring him they’d find the iPad. Bouncing Ian grabbed his hammock and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Boba Fett realized that he was in trouble. He had to find a place to hide the iPad and he had to do it aimlessly. He figured that if Bouncing Ian took the wannabe go-fast Civic, he had...

That time when Bouncing Ian fell in love

It was a dark and stormy night. An unnatural haze lingered over the Sunset. In his bed, Bouncing Ian shivered. For a summer night, the air was cold and the sky was black. It was almost as if something evil lurked out there in the shadows. Bouncing Ian stopped bouncing, rolled over, clutching his pillow, and tried to fall back asleep. But a worry nagged in the back of his mind. Something was not right. No matter how he tried, some ghostly force prevented him from sleeping. It made him uneasy. With a sigh, he rolled out of bed, pulled on his sweater, and poured himself a cup of water from the pitcher on his nightstand. Quietly, he left his room. The halls were silent as he walked in the dark. He did not know where he was going, or why, but his body seemed to move on its own accord. He was being drawn by an unseen power. Past the dining hall, past the bathroom, and out onto the terrace. With the moon hidden behind thick clouds, it was nearly impossible to see in the inky black night. But something lying on the path to Bouncing Ian’s right made him gasp in shock. A body! ‘Dagnabbit!’ Bouncing Ian shouted. He leapt over the terrace railing and onto the ground below, running toward the fallen form as fast as he could. Tree branches scratched at his skin and pulled at his clothes, but he paid them no mind. Heart pounding, he fell to his knees on the pathway and placed a gentle hand on the figure’s nose. Now that...

That time when Bouncing Ian met Peter Quill

Bouncing Ian had always hated uptight the Cancerverse with its melodic, melted moons. It was a place where he felt thoughtless. He was a forgetful, delightful, port drinker with moist toes and dirty elbows. His friends saw him as a funny, fancy friend. Once, he had even saved a kitten that was stuck in a drain. That’s the sort of man he was. Bouncing Ian walked over to the window and reflected on his scary surroundings. The wind blew like dancing gerbils. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Peter Quill. Peter was a malicious Star-Lord with tall toes and fragile elbows. Bouncing Ian gulped. He was not prepared for Peter. As Bouncing Ian stepped outside and Peter came closer, he could see the vain smile on his face. “Look Bouncing Ian,” growled Peter, with a stingy glare that reminded Bouncing Ian of malicious puppies. “It’s not that I love you, but I want a hug.” Bouncing Ian looked back, even more brave and still fingering the tattered gun. “Peter, you’ve never heard of me?” he replied. They looked at each other with uninterested feelings, like two massive Big Bangs. Bouncing Ian regarded Peter’s tall toes and fragile elbows. “I don’t have hugs …” he lied. Peter glared. “Do you want me to shove that tattered gun where the sun don’t shine?” Bouncing Ian promptly remembered his forgetful and delightful values. “Actually, I do have hugs,” he admitted. He reached into his pockets. “Here’s what I owe you.” Peter looked agreeable, blushing like a ratty, raw rock. Then Peter came inside for...

That time when Bouncing Ian met the devil

Bouncing Ian looked at the weathered map in his hands and felt sad. He walked over to the window and reflected on his quiet surroundings. He had always loved idyllic Los Angeles with its funny, fancy fields. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel sad. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of The Devil. The Devil was a daring brute with ginger warts and curvaceous hands. Bouncing Ian gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a sinister, peculiar, port drinker with red warts and charming hands. His friends saw him as an angry, anxious author. Once, he had even saved a tough puppy that was stuck in a drain. But not even a sinister person who had once saved a tough puppy that was stuck in a drain, was prepared for what The Devil had in store today. The sun shone like sleeping mice, making Bouncing Ian feel puzzled. As Bouncing Ian stepped outside and The Devil came closer, he could see the vain smile on his face. The Devil glared with all the wrath of hungry bears. He said, in hushed tones, “I hate you and I want some more Twitter followers.” Bouncing Ian looked back, even more puzzled and still fingering the weathered map. “Devil, is that real leather?,” he asked. They looked at each other with confident feelings, like two talented, tall toads jumping at a very stable holiday, which had flute music playing in the background and two cowardly uncles jumping to the beat. Bouncing Ian regarded The Devil’s ginger warts and...

That time when Bouncing Ian met his non-bouncing counterpart

Bouncing Ian had always loved Cold Alaska with its angry, anxious aurora borealis. It was a place where he felt grumpy. He was a boring, difficult, port drinker with fragile left leg and pretty right arm. His friends saw him as a silky, smooth saint. Once, he had even saved a tough baby bird that was stuck in a drain. That’s the sort of man he was. Bouncing walked over to the window and reflected on his Far Away surroundings. The sunny teased like bouncing elephants. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Non-Bouncing Ian. Non-Bouncing was a hilarious coward with scrawny left leg and moist right arm. Bouncing gulped. He was not prepared for Non-Bouncing. As Bouncing stepped outside and Non-Bouncing came closer, he could see the vain smile on his face. Non-Bouncing glared with all the wrath of 1837 remarkable massive moose. He said, in hushed tones, “I hate you and I want to bounce.” Bouncing looked back, even more lonely and still fingering the moist suit. “Non-Bouncing, I just want to bounce,” he replied. They looked at each other with enlightened feelings, like two obedient, open ostriches dancing at a very witty Wedding, which had hip hop music playing in the background and two optimistic uncles drinking to the beat. Bouncing regarded Non-Bouncing’s scrawny left leg and moist right arm. “I feel the same way!” revealed Bouncing with a delighted grin. Non-Bouncing looked sympathetic, his emotions blushing like a breakable, bloody basketball. Then Non-Bouncing came inside for a nice glass of...