bad Fisi!

What They’ve All Been Up To, Part I: Fisi, No!

Looking back over this journal, I realize that it has been quite some time since I have written about anyone other than the humans (ugh), the felines (furry minions), Sigyn, and myself. Nary a word about the other people beings in my circle of acquaintances. Blame that on 1) Social distancing, and 2) the fact that I don’t actually like any of them.

Be that as it may, I suppose it might be mildly amusing to fill you in on what they have all been doing. Let’s start here.

This is the beautiful wedding quilt the human female’s mother made about twenty-seven years ago. It has been treasured and well-loved, but it is now showing some wear and some popped seams.

Great Frigga’s hairpins! It’s as I suspected, that thrice-damned hyena has been contributing to the decay by using it as a chew toy. I thought I smelled a whiff of Hyaenidae.

Fisi! Bad hyena! Spit that out RIGHT NOW!

Unfortunately, this is not the only area of damage. Luckily, my beloved is quite handy with a needle and thread.

A few darns in a few holes, some tiny whipstitches to re-close the open seams, and everything will be snuggly cuddles once again.

Every job needs a Snoopervisor.

>|: [

Bad Hyena! No Biscuit!

Long-time minions may have wondered why the hyena, Fisi, has not appeared here in some time.

Or perhaps you are like me and simply cannot be bothered to keep track of that mangy, antisocial creature and its gluttonous proclivities.

But I suppose I shall indulge anyone who is interested with an update.

Some weeks ago, Sigyn and I noticed that Fisi was beginning to show some disturbing symptoms.


Not wanting to expose my beloved to even the slightest risk of exposure to Norns-knew-what malady, I immediately zapped the slavering beast into a magical quarantine until such time as its condition could be elucidated.

Once the prescribed period had elapsed with no further frothing, I (grudgingly) allowed Fisi to come home.  Sigyn dotes on that walking doormat; I’ve no idea why.

So now the benighted beast is back with us and has lost no time in taking up its old hobbies.

Apparently, mask ties are for chewing.


Bad Fisi!  Don’t drag that off !  I might need the human female to go for take-out later!


BAD Fisi!  Sigyn, you promised me that pestilent animal was housebroken!


Eehehehehe! Funny, though.  This was an important document.

BAD FISI!   That is not your toy!


And I suspect one or another of the felines might take exception to your stealing it…


>|: [


More Adventures in the Room of Skulls

I was able to rescue Sigyn from the clutches of that murderous deer.  Horrible creatures, deer, really.  I prefer to think of them as merely the larval stage of roast venison.

There are more skulls here, and they are drawing a lot of attention.  The human female and her minions are showing them off to anyone who wanders by.

Sigyn is investigating the pronounced sagittal crest on this opossum.


The human female says that is where all the jaw muscles are attached.  It certainly looks capable of eating anything it finds.  Opossums are strange creatures–tails like rats, huge rafs of babies which they tote about in pouches or on their backs, fur that always looks like they’ve been washed in the washer on the wrong cycle, and a predilection for rummaging about in compost heaps.

I am more impressed by the dentition of this male vervet monkey.


This fellow looks quite up to the task of perforating anyone who tried to put him in a funny outfit or make him do silly tricks.  And the overall effect is of a toothy little human.

Great Frigga’s hairpins!  Look who has turned up!  Marty, that goggle-eyed menace, has dropped by to ogle the chicken skull.


I don’t want to think about what Marty’s skull might look like.  Not much room for a brain, that’s for certain.

Oh, and here is Fisi, trying to sneak in a nibble on the oppossum.


Shoo!  Bad hyena!  No biscuit!

Sweet Tony Stark on the half shell!  What sort of alien mutant nightmare beast does this one come from?!


Don’t get too close, Sigyn.  I don’t trust this thing at all.


poke, poke, poke.

No sirree. I do not trust this thing at all, at all.  Nor can I figure out its modus operandi.  No proper teeth to speak of, but what about these long pincer-like things up front?  What IS it?  Where does it live?  What does it eat?  What does the rest of it look like??

Oh, I am going to have bad dreams and flashbacks about this one, I can tell you.

(Reads label.)  Huh.  I never, ever would have guessed.  Log your guesses in the comments, folks, and we’ll see if anyone comes close.

>|: [

Crawling Out of a Rut, Part III: I Might Actually Be Very Good At This

The humans and their friends have decided to play an after-dinner game.  What?  By Yggdrasil’s itty bitty root hairs!  Didn’t you people just have an entire GAMING WEEKEND?!  You want more games?  Whatever it is, it will no doubt be either twee or boring, and I probably won’t like it.


On the other hand…

Ehehehe!  Look!  This game even comes with a warning label.  This might be my cup of tea after all.


Blast!  I think my enjoyment will be substantially diminished by the arrival of Perfect Steve and his stupid hair and his stupid white horse.


Sigyn!  Get off that nag!  You don’t know where it’s been!

Sigh.  Looks like Captain Spanglepants is going to be my adversary in this game.  Let’s see.  What is the object, again?


Ah, yes.  To become governor AND amass $50,000 dollars.  Pffft! I can do that.


Especially since they can’t make the charges stick.

Other cards announce the acquisition of kickbacks and bribes in varying amounts.  Or else send one up or down a level on the influence scale.  Right now, we are all hovering somewhere around “dog-catcher.”  We will have to rise considerably to even get on a committee.


We have been playing forever, and no one has attained any rank beyond local councilman.  We all keep getting sent back down levels and having to shell out for bribes.

Of course, it doesn’t help that Fisi has gotten involved.


Mostly by eating the cards.

Barboni’s cafe–what an AWFUL place!  Every time I go there, I end up having to pay someone or give up a lucrative position.


Good Fisi!  Good hyena!  Chew up Barboni’s cafe!  There’s an extra biscuit in it for you if you can shut it down entirely!


And a dozen pork chops if you widdle on Cap as you go ’round…

>|: [

Bored, Part III: Take Only Photographs, Leave Only… Mischief

Well, Sigyn took Fisi home.  That creature has a huge time-out coming.   No biscuits for Fisi until all the spikey fellow’s stitches come out.

I figured, though, that while I’m here I should do a little of what I do best.  Pay the human female back for having such an untidy workspace.  I’m sure I can make her life more annoying somehow.

Great Frigga’s corset!  It looks like some other practitioner of mischief has been here before me!


Oh, wait.  That’s just the natural state of her desk drawer… My bad.

Look at all these keys! Does she even know what they all go to???


Well, if she does now, she won’t once I swap around all the labels.

Rubber bands!  Rubber bands are always useful.  Or, they are until they lose their boinginess…


I will noodlify these and then sit back and laugh as she goes through three or four… or eight, trying to find one that doesn’t break at first stretch.

Oh ho!  These will come in handy!  These are the transfer slips the human female writes out to schedule students for make-up labs if they have a good excuse for missing.


I’ve become quite adept at forging her signature, so I’ll just sign a bunch of these and start randomly assigning students to other labs.   We’ll see how long it takes them to figure out I’ve even changed their courses….

And since I’ve left some fun surprises, I’ll just take a little something for my trouble, and not just photos.

This.  I choose this.  I like this.


It is a paperclip truly fit for a god.  I can hold all of Midgard together with this!

>|: [

Halloween Aftermath, Part II: Fold, Flip, Fold, Fold, Ta Da!

Sigyn is still on her Oriental kick.  She has let me put the flowery parasol away (thank the Norns!) and now has me helping her practice her origami.  We established long ago that her skills are far superior to mine.

Truly, she does not need any help.  I can’t make heads nor tails out of valley folds and mountain folds and all the various dotted lines.  Nope, she folded up this feline all on her own.  


Well done, my love!  That is a most superior cat!  It certainly has the Terror Twins beat in the shedding, clawing, and leaving odiferous deposits in the sandbox departments.

What is that, my love?  Have you folded yourself a regal throne? Or is it a flower of some sort?


Ah.  Angle of viewing makes all the difference in the world.


Jumbo wanna peanut?

Sigyn had no trouble folding that prodigious pachyderm.  Now she is trying her hand at miniature origami.  Pfft!  Anyone can fold big things!  The real skill is in the tiny stuff.

Baldurs biscuits!  That is indeed a diminutive member of the Gruiformes.


And this one is even smaller!   I am suitably impressed.


Show me again how to fold one?


I always go wrong when it comes to the beaky end of things….

>|: [

We now resume our regularly scheduled Mischief

I’ve been remiss in not updating, but my sabotage of the human female’s work life continues unabated.

1. You will recall that she ordered an absurd quantity of microscope slides from the Purveyor of Dead Things. She thought she had the shipping sorted, but I intervened. Five boxes showed up, with a total of 238 smaller boxes inside. (These smaller boxes each hold a silly Midgardian quantity known as “half a gross.” How does that make sense? What’s next–“three-quarters of a slightly disgusting” “Two-thirds of a disturbingly misshapen”?) When she called to inquire about the missing 62 boxes, she was informed that, having begun their journey in Wisconsin, they had made it only as far as Illinois before being smashed by the shipper. No, I’ve no idea how that package-carrier tripped! The Purveyor of Dead Things shipped a replacement fifty boxes, so she had to call and remind them that 50 and 62 are not the same. She was *finally* able to get the last dozen half-gross not too long ago, a quantity known as “half a great gross” or “0.5 cubic dozen.”


Midgardians have ten digits. Why they insist on counting by twelves is beyond me.


Ooops! These slides have neatly rounded corners, which makes them much nicer to handle than the usual sort. I shall have to make sure that they are discontinued.

2. The forty-four stools finally showed up, minus any packing slip. Here they all are, belly-up, looking like a forest of quadrupedal cadavers.


I think I will loosen one leg on each.

3. The fingerprint analysis poster showed up, WITH a packing slip, but a packing slip is not an invoice, so the human female had to call and request one. Turns out that somehow, the original invoice was sent to the College of Architecture… Ehehehehehe!

4. One of the clown fish from the tank in room 321 is just flat missing. Fried fish for everyone!*

5. The enormous order of dead things is finally on its way, entrusted to a semi belonging to Unrepentant Package Squashers. I befuddled the Purveyor of Dead Things a bit and had them tell the human female the wrong delivery date, after she had already scheduled on-campus delivery, doorway modification, and help unloading. Her co-workers nearly had to use the AED on her, so close was she to an actual coronary. Well, they do say that occasional stressing is good for the cardiopulmonary system. She should thank me.

6. The bathrooms on the human female’s floor and on the first floor are still not finished. Work continues off and on. I had them do the ear-splitting masonry-drilling during lab final exams. The toilets are there now, and they probably work, but there’s the tiny matter of there being no doors. Humans are so picky about their privacy!


7. The human female doesn’t have a lot to do with the students, but she occasionally has to deal with some that come wandering into her office area like bemused hoofstock. There was one who showed up expecting a 1.5 hour make-up exam starting after 5:00 p.m. She swore her instructor told her it was all right. (It wasn’t; he said she had to be DONE by 5:00.) The human female, who at 5:30 stops pretending to work and goes home, said no. The same student missed a second make-up opportunity. And then was dinged for plagiarism on a major assignment. None of this is actually my fault, but I do enjoy delaying/distracting/nudging the problem students so that they come through on her watch.

8. I have completely infiltrated the order-fulfillment department of the Squiggly Things Vendor. The last shipment of Planaria (creepy-cute little flatworms with googly “eyes”) was sent two-day air rather than 1-day, and two future shipments were also put down for two day air. The human female caught those and corrected the shipping darn her. She’s getting good at preemptive strikes, so I have taken to messing with the orders in other ways. Take for example, the earthworms that were completely OMITTED from a shipment. She had to arrange an emergency shipment, which was delivered by Fed-up and Exhausted. I met them at the stockroom and told them no one was there to accept the shipment, so the worms went back on the truck, on a blisteringly hot day. Multiple phone calls later, the worms finally arrived, but not before I had Fed-up and Exhausted tell the exasperated human female that they might make it… or they might not.

9. The Vendor Who’s Responsible’s customer service/order fulfillment department is also mine now. I had them tell the human female that the last three items from her brobdingnagian fall order (placed over a month ago) would “ship tomorrow.” A week later, they admitted that they were being shipped from the manufacturer and would still be some time in coming. A further week on, only one has actually arrived.

10. I applied some moisture and some torque to cause two drawers in the main desk of the Room of Doom to stick so badly that they could not be opened. The maintenance folks were summoned. They sent two people to unstick them. They tinkered and billed $200. Afterwards, they (the drawers; I have no idea about the workmen) were still as sticky as sticky can be. A second visit *seems* to have solved the problem, but I’m just biding my time.

11. Somewhere higher up the food chain of the University, each department within the College of Science has had its budget slashed. No explanation, nothing, just “do more with less.” On the other hand, my world-domination/palace-building fund is doing quite nicely, thanks to a recent mysterious influx of cash.

It is rather quiet around here today. Surely there’s some mischief I could be causing. I know! I could mess with the electronic door locks again!

>|: [

*No, it just turns out that hyenas will eat almost anything.