The Super Goofs!

[Super Scooter]

Hi. I've been writing a lot of short stories lately, some successful, some... not so much. Anyway, I wanted to try my hand at a "novella" of sorts. (I'll have the first chapter up by Sunday)

And so, without further adieu...

-The Super Goofs!-​

An Introduction

FLASH!

Look! Up in the sky!

It's a bird!

It's a plane!

No, it's unmistakably a bird!

Really? I'm not thinking it's either one at this point.

No, wait! It's...

THE SUPER GOOFS!​

This band of misfit wonders is bravely led by the fearless SUPER GOFER, aided by the power of the stars!

Super Gofer is joined by:

THE FISH FLINGER: Boomerang fish thrower!

BEARMAN: Power of the joke!

THE WHATEVER: Power of the chicken!

SUPER RAT: Power of the stomach!

and

LINK: Power of the powerless!

with

Kermit the Frog as FROG BOSS


It's
THE SUPER GOOFS!*​

*"The Super Goofs" and all "Super Goof" names and likenesses are a registered trademark of "Goofer Soup Incorporated."

 

[Super Scooter]

Chapter One

When last we left the valiant Super Goofs, they were in a terrible pickle. Once they ate their way out of that pickle (yes, it’s that kind of a story, folks!), the Super Goofs made their way back to their super secret lair. There in their fair lair, the Super Goofs were on the verge of a difficult decision, one which may affect the course of their entire lives…

“Order! Order, please!” Super Gofer, the young leader, called urgently. “Seriously, we need to order. Now, what are we having on the pizza?”

“Oh, what are the choices again?” asked Bearman, readjusting his blue, cone-shaped helmet. Bearman was quite a nervous fellow with a fondness for bad jokes.

“Anchovy or mushroom with pineapple,” Super Gofer replied, double-checking his clip-board.

“Anchovy? Mushroom with pineapple?” Asked the disgusted Bearman as he covered his face with the red cape he wore. “Yuck-ah! Who suggested those?”

“Well, I suggested the anchovy,” the Fish Flinger volunteered. He wore a helmet of fish that might indicate why (besides the fact that he was called “the Fish Flinger”).

“I thought you loved fish too much to eat them!”

“Oh, it’s not for me. It’s for Connie Sue. She’s one of my boomerang fish, and she just LO-oves anchovies!”

“Yuck-ah!” Bearman was now using the Fish Flinger’s red cape to cover his mouth (don’t ask me why they both wear red capes).

“Anchovy it is, then,” said Super Gofer, hoping to come to an early decision.

“No! Mushroom with pineapple!” called the Whatever, jumping up and down frantically in a blur of red, yellow and blue (after all, his jumpsuit was red, his cape was yellow, and he himself was blue… how’s that for description?).

This suggestion was met with groans from all but one Super Goof.

“Hey, you know me. I’ll eat anything,” said Super Rat, a cynical stomach on legs (he was actually a rat, but what kind of a description is that?).

“I still don’t see what was wrong with pepperoni,” said Super Gofer.

“Where’s the fun in that?” asked the always manic Whatever.

“Hey, I don’t hear Link putting in any suggestions.”

“What do you want, Link?”

Link was a somewhat slow individual whose main concerns were of his personal appearance and of how much chest hair he could get away with revealing through the top of his yellow leotard. So, you might not be surprised to learn that his response was “What?”

“Never mind,” Super Gofer replied. He scratched his head thoughtfully until… “Ouch!” … he pricked his finger on the lightning bolt stuck through the middle of his blue helmet. “That smarts!”

The scene continued on like this for quite a while until the matter was finally settled, and a call was placed to the local pizza place.

“Hello, Dominos? Hi, this is Sc- uh, that is, my identity is not important. I’d like to place an order for one medium pizza. Half pepperoni, half olive, have mushroom with pineapple, half anchovy and half sausage with guacamole.”

“And half cucumbers!”

“And half cucumbers. … No, actually, fractions were my best subject.”

Finally, our band of misfit wonders could get down to business…

“Oh, band of misfit wonders!” Super Gofer called out. ”Let’s get down to business. Who had Park Place?”

“I’ve got Boardwalk!”

About halfway through a particularly exciting game of Monopoly (especially exciting when Link swallowed the top hat), a call suddenly rang forth from the super secret Goof phone!

“Um, hello?” asked Bearman, speaking into the cup and string that comprised the super secret Goof phone. “Hey! It’s the super secret commissioner!”

“Hola,” came a mysterious voice from the other end. “It is the super secret commissioner, okay!”

“And on the super secret Goof phone, too!” said Bearman.

“Coin-cidence? I think not, okay. Super Goofs! There is serious problems afoot, okay!”

“And, pray tell,” said Link bravely, “who’s feet might be causing problems?”

“Eh… Well, ju might say… who is this guys, okay? I’s like talking to a stump, okay!”

“Hmmm. Thank you,” said Link as he wandered off smugly.

“Anyway, anyways! Super Goofs, ju are in trouble, okay!”

“Cool!” came a typical response from the Whatever.

“Trouble?” Bearman whined. “What kind of trouble? What did we do?”

“And, uh,” Super Rat gulped, “there’s no pain involved in this sort of trouble, is there?”

“Hold on a second, gang!” called Super Gofer, trying to take a hold of the situation. “Whatever trouble there is, we can handle it! After all, we are… The Super Goofs!”

A dramatic sting echoed through the super secret lair.

“Eh, yeah, whatever, okay,” stated the super secret commissioner. “This serious troubles is very serious, okay. Dios mio, i’s serious! So, ju might want to listen up. Ju see, someone… has stolen all of the Super Goofs super secret funding, okay!”

There was silence amidst the Super Goofs.

“Um…” Super Gofer finally said, “So?”

“So, this means no more monies, okay!”

There was panic amidst the Super Goofs.

“And without the monies, I cannot afford my super secret condos and jewelry for my super secret womens! And they will all leave me, okay.”

“Not to mention we couldn’t afford all of these great gadgets,” said Bearman, still holding onto the cup they used for a phone.

“Ju must act quickly, okay! For fear I never get the womens again, okay. This is jour super secret commissioner signing off, okay!”

A buzzing sound, the kind one would make with their mouth in imitation of television static, came across the super secret Goof phone. The Super Goofs stood in silence, staring at it.

“Wow,” said the Whatever, finally breaking the silence as only he could. “This is so cool!” He laughed. “We’re actually gonna find out what an adventure is like!”

“Yeah,” said Super Rat. “I was beginning to think our excitement was limited to our game of ‘rescue Link from what he swallowed this week.’”

“Quick, men!” said Super Gofer, pulling his green cape on. “We must be off!”

Then, they all shouted heroically (with a slight delay on Link’s part), “Let’s go, Super Goofs!”

 

[Super Scooter]

Chapter Two

In their efforts to discover the identity of the villainous fiend responsible for hijacking their funding, the Super Goofs split up.

“Let’s split up,” Super Gofer said. And they did. They went paired in teams of two, each heading their separate ways.

We join our first team now in the dark, dingy attic of the Muppet Theater…

“Um, h-h-hello?” the nervous Bearman called into the room.

“I-i-i-i-is anyone there?” asked his shivering teammate, Link.

The two had cracked the attic door open just enough to peek their heads through, one on top of the other. They looked around cautiously, carefully examining the room. This proved to be very difficult as they both had their eyes closed tight.

“D-d-do you see anything?” Bearman asked.

“Um, no,” Link replied.

“There’s no… n-no monsters or sc-scary things around?”

“I don’t see any.”

Bearman opened his eyes to find…

“Hey. You have your eyes closed!”

“I told you I didn’t see any.”

Bearman shook his head. Link opened his eyes as our two reluctant heroes entered the room. They made their way to the middle of the room where junk and props were piled high. With the combination of junk and darkness, it would come as no surprise to learn that Bearman had accidentally backed into something sharp, and when he did, he screamed from the surprise. Link turned quickly and wrestled the object to the ground!

“Um, Link?” said Bearman, realizing what the object was.

“Yes?” said Link, looking up at Bearman.

“It’s a rake.”

“Oh. Yes, I know that.”

Link stood. Then, recognizing there was no danger about, he put on a mask of bravery (a figurative one as Link was afraid of masks).

“Hmmm. You see? There is nothing to be afraid of here,” he said boldly.

“Oh, isn’t there?” said an eerie voice from behind a tower of crates, echoing through the room like an eerie voice would if it were to echo through a room (how else?).

The two cowardly heroes yelped when confronted by this strange voice. Link leapt into Bearman’s arms, the duo quaking in fear. Soon a shadow appeared, one linked to this eerie voice, and the shadow was just as eerie, but in a shadowy way. It towered over the two Goofs, ominously creeping toward them. It was apparent from this shadow that the creature that produced it was a bundle of fur, and looked to have two long horns atop its head. The creature snarled and growled. With every step the creature took, it seemed to get larger and larger. You could have filled a pool with the amount of perspiration pouring off Link and Bearman (this sentence is hyperbole, as if it were literal, it would be very, very gross).

Finally, the figure jumped out from behind the crates with a loud “Hi, there!”

It was Bean Bunny, a cute, innocent little fellow.

Link, paralyzed with fear, fainted. Bearman breathed a sigh of relief and approached Bean.

“Bean Bunny? What are you doing here? You scared me!”

“Aw,” said Bean as he skipped around Bearman. “How could cute little, fuzzy little ol’ me scare you guys?”

“Hold still, Bean!” said Bearman, grabbing the little rabbit to keep him from skipping. “By the way, what was with the snarling and growling?”

“Oh, I think I’m coming down with a cold,” Bean said, sniffling. “I think it might be acute.”

“Why might it be acute?”

“Because then it’d be just like me,” said Bean, tilting his head to the side like a curious dog. “It’s so cute!”

“Um, okay,” said the confused bear. “Anyway, Bean, maybe you could help us out.”

“Oh, sure! I’d be glad to help you guys out. You’re my hero, Bearman!” Bean nuzzled his face in Bearman’s fur.

“It’s almost unbearable even for this bear, folks,” Bearman said, referencing Bean’s intolerable cuteness.

“How can I help?” Bean asked eagerly.

“Oh, well, someone has taken away all of the Super Goofs’ funding!”

Bean gasped, “No!”

“Yes,” the bear said urgently.

“Well, I don’t know if I could help you figure out who did it, but… here’s a nickel.” Bean handed Bearman a bright, shiny coin. “Look at how small and cute it is!”

“Bean, why do you want me to have this?” Bearman asked, touched by the bunny’s generosity.

“Well, I was just thinking that since I can’t help you figure it out, I could at least try and help out the Super Goofs monetarily.”

“Oh! Thank you, Bean Bunny! And nice use of the big word.”

“That ‘word-a-day’ calendar comes in handy!”

“To think we were so scared of you!”

“I know!” Bean laughed. “It’s hilarious!”

“Yeah,” Bearman said confidently, “there’s nothing up here to be scared of!”

“Oh, isn’t there?” asked another eerie voice from behind the crates.

“Oh, Bean, stop that!” Bearman said, chuckling a bit. “When’d you learn how to throw your voice?”

“Uh, Bearman, that wasn’t me.”

“Well, who else did you have up here with you?”

“Well, I kinda thought I was alone up here.”

“Uh… You mean…?” asked Bearman, growing worried.

“I don’t know who that is.”

An evil cackling echoed through the attic! Bearman and Bean looked around frantically to locate the source, but could find none.

“Let’s get out of here!” Bearman shouted. He and Bean raced off, but tripped over the unconscious Link in their efforts to get away (thought I forgot about Link, didn’t you?). They quickly lifted Link to his feet, and the three got away unharmed.

Uncle Deadly, a ghoulish creature in tattered clothes, came out from behind the crates. His evil cackling slowly died down as he watched the three Muppets run off.

“Drat!” said the disappointed Uncle Deadly, snapping his fingers. “Nobody ever stays to play.”

 

[JEANYLASER]

I can't wait to read more suspense!

 

[dwmckim]

In chapter one, too bad there wasn't a super-bimbo to suggest a Four-For-All Pizza!

 

[Super Scooter]

In chapter one, too bad there wasn't a super-bimbo to suggest a Four-For-All Pizza!

Ahhh! Clever! I forgot about that commercial. Dang, how'd I miss that? Oh, well. The pizza might come into play later anyway

 

[theprawncracker]

HAHAHA! This is FANTASTIC, Super Scoot! All of it! I LOVE how you write Link, it's just GREAT! The Bean scene was hysterical! Your writing is gold and it's great to see it put to a full-fledged story!

Oh, and one thing! Mushroom and pineapple pizza is my FAVORITE, and Gonzo is my favorite! How'd ya know?

 

[JEANYLASER]

I want to read more this is my favorite Fanfic! OH! more Suspense!

 

[Super Scooter]

Chapter three'll be up shortly. I'm glad you like it!

Oh, and one thing! Mushroom and pineapple pizza is my FAVORITE, and Gonzo is my favorite! How'd ya know?

... that's disgusting!

Hopefully chapter three will live up to your Gonzo-y expectations...

 

[Super Scooter]

Chapter Three

The canteen at the Muppet Theater was a place where anything could happen, and everything did. That is, anything and everything involving food from a selection of eight menu items (two that were edible). For the average Muppet (if you could find a Muppet considered average), this was a place for pleasant conversation, a bit of rehearsal, and a quick sandwich, which also meant exercise (you ever try to catch a quick sandwich?). But for a rat, the canteen meant heaven. So, naturally, this was Super Rat’s destination.

When Super Rat and the Whatever entered the canteen, at least thee quarters of the team was intent on discovering who stole the Super Goofs’ funding. The remaining eighty-two percent was intent on discovering lunch.

“Onward, Super Rat!” said the enthusiastic Whatever.

“To the fridge!” said the enthusiastically hungry Super Rat.

“To the fr-,” the Whatever stopped. “What kind of clues are you gonna find in the fridge?”

“Tasty ones.”

“Would you stop thinking with your stomach for one minute?”

“What better way to think?”

“We are on a dangerous mission,” the Whatever announced with a certain manic excitement in his eye. “There is dangerous danger at every turn! Who knows what lies in store? Who knows what troubles lurk behind every door?”

“I think there’s a turkey lurking behind the fridge door.”

“Adventure!” the Whatever continued, paying no heed to Super Rat’s comment. “Danger! Intrigue! Chickens! Over-the-top rants like this one!” He laughed.

“Maybe the turkey’s not in the fridge,” said Super Rat at the Whatever’s ramblings. “See ya.” He started to leave.

“Where are you going?” asked the Whatever, grabbing hold of the rat.

“Haven’t you paid attention to anything this chapter? I’m starving!”

“Well, help me find some sort of clues first.”

“Well, Mr. Holmes, I don’t do clues on an empty stomach. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

Super Rat wiggled free of the Whatever’s grasp and headed into the kitchen.

“Hmmm. Clues… clues,” the Whatever muttered as he took a look around. He looked left, right, up, down, under tables, under chairs, under penguins and under there. Under where, you ask? (giggle) And all the Whatever could find in his exhaustive search was Gladys.

Gladys was a cafeteria lady who wore green, horn-rimmed glasses and had a mass of gray hair atop her head. As cafeteria ladies typically do, Gladys had an attitude.

“All right, you!” the Whatever accused Gladys. “What have you done with the money?” He began to pace.

“Excuse me?” Gladys was confused, and naturally assumed that she should be insulted.

“You heard me!” the Whatever shouted, turning on her. “What do you know about the missing money?”

“What’s it to ya?”

“What’s it to me? What’s it to me?” He thought a moment. “What is it to me?” He shook off the question and turned it back on Gladys. “I’ll tell you what it is to me! It’s liberty! It’s justice! It’s… It’s… What is it again?”

“Its nuts, is what it is!” Gladys barked.

“Oh, yeah. What do you know about the missing nuts?”

“You went missing?”

The Whatever paused, confused. “Wait. Nuts? I don’t think that’s it. … What was it?” He thought about it, trying hard to remember what it was.

“Huh! You see some weird things around here,” Gladys stated, then she left in a huff (closer to a minute and a huff, but does that make sense?).

“Uh, Mr. Holmes?” called a nervous Super Rat from in the kitchen. “Would you mind moving your investigation in here a moment?”

The Whatever, still puzzled, entered the kitchen. There he discovered a cleaver-wielding, mustachioed chef crying softly (actually very heavily) into his apron. He also found Super Rat trying to comfort the chef.

“There, there. There, there,” said Super Rat as he patted the chef’s back and chewed on a turkey leg.

“Vheer, vheer? Vheer, vheer?” asked the chef through his tears.

Super Rat shrugged. “How do you comfort corn?”

“What’s wrong with him?” asked the Whatever.

“How should I know? I haven’t understood a word he’s said.”

“Yersky err de oopdie-ooh!” the chef cried.

“See what I mean?”

The chef, bawling uncontrollably, threw his arms open wide in grief, narrowly missing Super Rat with his cleaver.

“Yikes!’ the rat shouted as he ducked out of the way.

“You okay, Super Rat?” asked the Whatever.

“Fine,” said the frightened, tense rat on the verge of panic. “Never better.” He gulped and fell over.

“Yer de um ber de urskay de doo,” the chef poured out to the Whatever.

“Oh, really?” asked the Whatever. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

Super Rat stood. “You understood that?”

“Oh, yeah,” the Whatever replied. “I spent a month in Texas last week.”

“Where you learned Swedish?” Super Rat was stunned.

“Sure. What else?”

“What else?” Super Rat shook his head.

“Anyway, it seems the chef here feels unappreciated.”

“He said that?”

“More or less.”

“Paging Dr. Phil!” the rat called out.

“Would you be serious for a minute?” the Whatever slapped Super Rat’s arm.

“This isn’t very superhero-ish.”

“Just cut it out.”

“Okay, okay. What’s he got to feel unappreciated for? He’s a chef! His life is food.” He smacked his lips. “Much like mine.”

“I think that’s the problem. No one appreciates his food.”

“You want appreciation? Watch this…”

The rat whistled quick, and before you could say “Jumpin’ Jiminy’s Jitterbug Geriatrics” (but a half second longer than saying “haggis”), a battalion of rats were flooding the kitchen. The rats went right to work, eating everything the chef had made, including a nice little painting he had tried his hand at.

When gorging was through and the rats had departed, the chef was once again a happy man, and he showered Super Rat with kisses for all he’d done. While holding the rat, he considered briefly turning him into a chocolate mouse (Get it? Mouse? Mousse?), until Super Rat reminded him that he was not, in fact, a mouse.

Super Rat and the Whatever headed out of the kitchen to regroup with the other Super Goofs.

“Well, we didn’t find out anything about the money,” the Whatever said, disappointed. “This whole chapter seems pretty pointless to the overall story at this point.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Super Rat, thoughtfully. “I had a pretty good meal.”