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Tommie Tinkle's Big Day is a story created by the Mazybolton Writer's Guild. The color of the names below correspond with the color of the text above.

Order of appearance:
Rick F.
Joe King
Dan L.

Tommie Tinkle's Big Day

Tommie awoke to the sounds of birds chirp, chirp chirping and the sun peeping into his window with a cheery glow on its face-but not quite in the same way his Uncle Burt did. That crazy Uncle Burt! Tommie hopped out of bed and skipped gaily over to his dresser, where he hastily slipped on his Bonky the Bear t-shirt and his Squiggles the Clown shorts-which didn't quite fit anymore, but they were his favorites. Today was going to be special and he wanted everything to be perfect. He then scampered out of his room to the end of the hall, bursting into is parents' room. He wasn't quite prepared for what he saw, and his parents gazed up at him in surprise.

"Mom, Dad, what are you doing?!!!"

"Oh, Tommie, boy! We're just playing horsey." Said his rumpled mother as his father jumped up and pulled on his jockey shorts.

"Ok" Little Tommie said, smiling broadly. "Today is the day, isn't it?"

The childish gaze and twinkle in his eyes made his mother's heart melt.

"Yes, Boy, today's the day. Today is the day Uncle Burt is bringing your new pony."

Just hearing his mother say the word, the most beautiful word in the world, caused his little heart to swell and his eyes to mist.

He'd waited so long. Every day had crept by until this day. And finally it was here. The stall was ready, the feed room packed sky high with fresh hay and alfalfa, new tack waited for the pony to wear.

If only it would happen already. Tommie knew it would be love at first sight, he just couldn't wait to see the pony. He didn't care if it was black or brown or white or had spots and stripes, like he'd once cared. Once it had mattered what it looked like and now he knew better- that the only thing that mattered was that he pony come to live with him. He longed to brush its long tail and stroke its soft face.

Them Tommie's thoughts were broken as his Daddy swooped him up like an jet-airplane and yelled, "Breakfast first! Then Uncle Burt will be here at 11:00 with your pony."

Tommie asked his Dad if he could make pancakes in the shape of ponies. His Dad said, "Sure I can try."
Then as they went by the Grandfather clock on the way to the kitchen where and his Mom learned to tell time just one day before, Tommie saw that it was only seven A.M. Four whole hours until Uncle Burt would get there with his new pony. Tommie had no idea what he would do for four hours !

Tommie went to the kitchen drawer and started setting the table for breakfast. He sat out the sippy cup for baby Ned, Holly Hobby plate and fork for Sally, and of course, the cherished Hop-along-Cassidy set for himself. Mom would get out the grownup dishes for Dad and herself. He then sat down and stared at Hop-along's horse and imagined himself up on his pony. Uncle Bert had told him the Shetland pony was named John Boy, and that he like fresh radishes right out of the garden. Uncle Bert said there would be no need to wash them, that John Boy would eat them dirt and all.

Tommy suddenly became solemn as he remembered why he was able to get John Boy. Aaron, the little boy who had owned John Boy until last month, had been killed when an automobile struck him as he ran across the street while flying his kite. His parents simply could not bare to see the pony that their son had rode every afternoon after school. The reminder was too painful, and they thought Aaron would want another six-year-old little boy to care for his beloved John Boy.

They had decided to give John Boy to another first grader as a gift in remembrance of Aaron. Aaron's love for John Boy would continue through the eyes of another child. They knew this other child's eyes would sparkle and his face would light up at the sight of this magnificent horse.

Then Tommy's eyes grew pensive. Maybe the John Boy would be haunted - Just like Mommy's toaster oven!

His thoughts were interrupted as the toaster oven made an electrical zapping sound, the heater coils inside were glowing an evil shade of bright orange. A dry, whispery voice came from the appliance, "Come here little boy...."

Tommy made a small, frightened sound in the back of his throat and his weak bladder let loose, a dark wet patch grew in the crotch of his Squiggle the Clown shorts. It was the toaster oven's fault that he had the knickname, "Tommy Tinkle." That damn toaster was always scaring him and making him pee his pants.

An evil, satisfied laugh came from the toaster oven and it was over. The demonic glow was extinguished and Tommy was left with his wet shorts. Tommy vowed that one day he would repay the toaster for it's evil ways. Tommie made vows, double dares, and promises he often never intended to keep.


"Tommie, if you donít feed that damn horse right now, I swear to God, Iím going to haul it to the auction barn this Saturday!" Tommieís mother screamed from the utility room. "Iím sick of having to feed that hateful stub of an animal! And another thing, if he bites, kicks, or even looks cross eyed at Sally again, he will be in a bottle of Elmerís quicker than he can neigh 'glue'!"

Tommie had outgrown John Boy after three years and tended to ignore him now that Ned had started to claim him as his own. If Ned were only old enough to feed him, Tommie would be able to spend more time on the family computer creating web pages and false identities who claimed to be over eighteen. He now had an internet habit that took more of his time than a simple farm boy could possibly squeeze out of a single day.

Poor John Boy, once the apple of his owner's eye, now a forgotten flea bitten relic in the corner of his tiny stall. A horsey tear coursed down his soft brown cheek and fell onto the unswept floor. He rued the day Tommie's dad had brought home that new fangled idot box from the office. It seemed to have great powers over his boy Tommie. Tommie no longer came out to brush his mane or give him little treats of sugar cubes. It had been ages since John Boy had had a good gallop in the field.

A wistful smile came over his face. He was thinking about the only thing that kept him going. The one bright spot in his life was little Ned. His champion. Though he was too young to look after him properly, Ned had a kind heart and would sit and talk to John Boy for hours. John Boy delighted in his babyish prattle. John Boy and little Ned had a plan, they were going to run away and join the circus!

John Boy was tired of his cramped quarters and poor treatment. Not to mention that horrid Sally who often brought her lovers into his stall for a good shag. He hated that wench. She would tie John Boy to the far corner of the barn and beat him mercilessly should he even look crosseyed at one of her beaus, all of whom were dirty, foul mouthed creatures with not an animal loving bone in their body..well unless you considered Sally to be an animal. John Boy promised himself he would take a good nip out of her ample rear end before he set off on his adventures.

Yes they would run away to the circus together. Then his little friend Ned would no longer be subjected to having to sleep in the bottom bunk while his brother the notorious Tommie 'Tinkle' got to sleep on the top. Many were the nights that Ned woke up screaming with disgust when a warm trickle from above fell gently on his face. Seems Tommie was never going to grow out of his little 'problem'.

Today was the day..the plans were made, the stage was set, the barn door was unlatched and Ned was busy packing his Barney rucksack. Today they would be free.....

While Ned was packing his little napsack of all his beloved stuffed animals, Sally was on her way to the barn. Something she did every morning at this time. John Boy saw her coming through the cracks in the barn. Those very cracks had almost given him pnemonia this winter, but now were going to help him get even with the ditzy bitch. As Sally approached the barn doors, she teasingly called out to John Boy. "John BOY! Where are you, you rat?"

John Boy was gonna give it to her this time. She would never see it coming.

"Ah there you are you good for nothing donkey."

John Boy hated to be called a donkey. Sally bent down to pick up a rock on the floor of the barn when John Boy saw his chance to make her wish she had never set eyes on this pony.

Sally's eyes opened wide, her jaw dropped to her chin, and she stood speechless as she first caught sight of what was going on in the barn with John Boy.

Tommie's daddy quickly pulled his trousers up, and as he quickly zipped up his fly, he said to Sally, "Ugh, I was just playing horsey with John Boy!"

"Oh, yeah, then I'm MR. ED," John Boy suddenly said.

"Oh, my God, a talking donkey," Sally and Tommie's daddy exclaimed in unison.

At that point, John Boy replied, "Yeah, I can talk, alright. And if you think you're going to tell the media about it, I'll tell them all about this HORSEY TIME you've been having with me."

"The Toaster Oven made me do it!" Tommie's daddy cried out.

Meanwhile, inside the home Tommie Tinkle sat mesmerized in front of the toaster oven. He now had overcome his fear, and regarded the oven as a kind of imaginary playmate.

"Tommy," the Toaster Oven said, "I want you to go to the Nanny Cam in the barn, remove the tape of what's been going on out there this morning, and FedEx it to the producer of the Jerry Springer Show."

"Okay," Tommy said. "What's her name?"

"Gina Huerta," the Oven replied. "When you come back with the video tape, I'll give you the physical address to send it to. FedEx won't deliver to that Post Office box the Jerry Springer Show gives out for people to write in for tickets."

The next morning, the Toaster Oven asked Tommy to go to and print out the tracking receipt for the package.

It had been delivered, and signed for personally by "G. Huerta."


Tommie allowed the telephone to ring three times before he slowly began to make his way to a call he was sure would change his life forever. As suspected, the caller I.D. read UNKNOWN, and he'd never seen that before.

"'Lo!" Ned yelled into the heavy green phone. "No, thith ith Ned...No, heeth at work...No, theeth at the sthore...Yeth...uh huh...hith name is John Boy...Yeth, all the time...I taught him to...It was the toathter'th idea."

"Give me that!" yelled Tommie, elbowing Ned in the throat as he snatched the phone away. "You've got the wrong number!"

Tommie slammed the phone down on the receiver like he'd seen his father do so many times. Then he gently lifted it up and held it to his head with the same degree of caution set aside for bombs and seeing an occassional nipple at the swimming pool.

Tommie had aged in the last two years, and flaired up with anger when his family or friends slipped and forgot to call him "Tom". He felt the relief of Tommie, however when he confirmed there was no one on the other end of the line. He quickly stuffed the earpiece into the green plaid oven mit on the counter next to the phone.

A familiar orange glow illuminated the semi-dark kitchen as the toaster oven crackled to life. "Good boy, Tommie Tinkle," it said. "You have done well."

The toaster oven's control over the family was now complete and it didn't need any stupid newspeople or TV producers snooping around. Why, if they discovered the nasty secrets around here, who know's what would happen. They'd probably call in a priest to exorcise the place, or worse yet, burn it down.

No, it couldn't happen! The nasty little toaster oven had accomplished too much to lose everything now. Tommie's dad was addicted to playing horsey. Ned could barely speak, while John Boy could. Sally was the most popular girl in town.

And Tommie...yes, Tommie Tinkle was his pride and joy. It could make Tommie pee his pants at a moment's notice--something he would never, ever, grow out of. Even now, there in the dim orange light of the kitchen, the tell-tale dark, wet area was spreading. Success again! Yes, it would be another big day in the life of Tommie Tinkle.


Rick's Message board causes a lot of trouble in my life.
I wouldn't have let him participate in the story if he hadn't started begging from the day I mentioned I planned to get it going.

If there is something you'd like
to know about the US of A, just
click here on Scottey's page

Scottey is a famous radio personality.
(A close friend of Art Bell's)

I grew up to be the most beautiful woman in all of Mazyboltonland
Chante's Soap Box
I grew up and birthed Papi's children.
Let me tell you about that kind of stuff.

"I know everything."

LanzaMarie has a weekly survey that you will enjoy checking in on every day.

See Lanza dressed as a buxom wench.
Find out what happened today in history.
Read about her brother's upcoming marriage

Meet the fearless, Dirtweed. He has secrets.
He also fixed the link to the lovely Mary Jane.

If you're out slumming anytime soon, drop by
BABE's Bar.
The jukebox is free!

BABE gave me this award the night I helped her sweep up the place after a big brawl.

:::Calypso music begins:::
...drinking rum and Coca Cola...

Go to the site
that made Islandgirl famous.

Islandgirl likes to wear
revealing outfits to parties.

...working for the Yankee dollar...
:::Calypso music fades:::

This link will take you directly to Joe's life story.
My favorite part starts around 1978

Is Joe really the father?
Will the famous actress ever admit it? Are movies really based on his life?
Why didn't Joe accept the part of 007?
Answers to this and other intriguing questions
are waiting at the click of a mouse.

Funny guy, Dan (French horn) L., has an interesting site,
but watch your language - he made it family friendy.