Wednesday Match Game Story: "Ivan the cheery was so cheery, even his fish ____ smiled."

[Rabrrrrrr]

Standard rules - 10 words or more in the blank space.

As HP Lovecraftian as possible, please. Or, if not that, something nice and Precious Moments-y for the families here.

[Bake]

1. Sorry, I got nothin'.

Bake

[boston bean]

2. stick

[PVnRT]

3. from the eldritch, Cyclopean horror of R'lyeh, where Cthulhu lies dreaming

Kind of an awkward sentence though.

[trackfan]

4. monger - normally a droll fellow himself - wanted to bop him,

just to wipe the silly grin off of Ivan. So he took a large halibut filet and smashed it into Ivan's face, but Ivan just

[bmbmd]

5. -smelling

mistress with a horrible fetid discharge

[CreekDog]

6. Food

[SteppingRazor]

7. Lovecraftian it is.

even his fish ...

seemed to swim gaily in the fishpond in his back yard -- but, oh, dear reader, they would not have frolicked so had they known that, at the bottom of the well lay a tentacled horror, the Great Dreaming God Negeval'serd, who slept dreaming dreams of infinite madness, so that even as he slept, if one gazed upon his face, though it would blast the mind and drive a man to deepest insanity to do so, one could see that the demon-god ...

[Rabrrrrrr]

8. That is indeed very Lovecraftian!

:applause:

[underpants]

9. Lips

Gene:"Fish (looks at card) lips?"

Me:"Fish LIPS!"

[Javaman]

10. , the abominable sturgeon from the great lava lakes on mars,

smiled. :)

[Rabrrrrrr]

11. were repulsed by his incessantly perky and happy demeanor.

In fact, it was so bad in Ivan's house that his fourteen year old son, Artemis Rex, who properly hated happiness in all its mephitic soul-destroying ways, finally became so incensed at the constant, unrelenting, mind-numbingly ignorant cheerfulness that he felt his only escape was to go to the garage where he found the biggest axe, a nasty double-sided one used to fell trees on the back 40 that Ivan kept utterly sharp because, hey, he was so cheery that everything was perfect and he always kept perfectly good care of all his belongings. Artemis gripped the axe in holy righteousness, eager - desperately eager - to rid the world of the kind of saccharine Reader's Digest banality that Ivan represented. Coming to Ivan's bedroom, late at night while he slept, Artemis first woke Ivan so that he might see the face of his grim and holy reaper. At first surprised, then immediately assuming it was yet another cheerful prank, Ivan smiled a big smile and said, "Okay, Artemis, you really got your old man this time! You had me scared for a moment, you did!" Artemis, however, did not move, except to draw the axe above his head, it's razor-thin cutting edge gleaming in the last bit of moonlight that Ivan was ever to see, before crashing the head down into Ivan's stomach, then head, then legs, and over and over again, thrusting and smashing, Ivan's blood spurting and spraying in unholy delight over the entirety of his bedroom-cum-coffin. As Ivan screamed the final throes of his awful painful suffering death, all cheerfulness finally severed grotesquely from his body, Artemis sat in his father's bleeding offal and entrails and for the first time in his life, he

[DS1]

12. or, to go really Oedipal

Artemis sat in his father's bleeding offal and entrails. A few moments later he heard a slight movement as the covers slipped down on the other side of the bed, his mother emerged, winked and

[The Velveteen Ocelot]

14. OK, that's demented.

I like "mephitic." A good word.

[Rabrrrrrr]

15. Yours is pretty Lovecraftian - well done!

And thanks for the compliment. Demented is a high praise, indeed!

[Catsbrains]

16. wow, I'm impressed.

[The Velveteen Ocelot]

13. "Ivan the cheery was so cheery, even his fish

sticks and stale potato chip dinner, bland and meager as it was, failed to dampen his spirits in the slightest; he savored the last soggy lump of indeterminate marine flesh while happily anticipating the evening's adventure; he rocked back in his shabby but still-stylish Eames chair and closed his remaining eye, imagining the bliss yet to come: he knew she would soon arrive; that she would rap softly, hesitantly at his door, and he would get up slowly and tighten the leather straps on his special outfit, and then he would approach the heavy blast door, one step at a time, carefully avoiding dragging his tentacles on the carpet (this disturbed the nap and dulled his scales), and calling her name, Hedwig -- relishing it -- and then he would open the door, ever so slowly, and she would reach out her hands to him, not yet knowing that the hands that would receive hers were not hands at all, that Ivan was not of this earth or of this dimension; and that was the best part of all because when he took her inside and closed the door and released the straps of his special leather outfit, she would see at last the identity he had hidden from his landlord and the cable guy and the IRS auditor and the handsome young Mormon missionaries whom he was eventually compelled to eat because they kept stopping by to talk about how he could be a god on his own planet, which soon became tiresome because he was already better than a god, being an eldrich entity far more ancient than even the planet Kolob, and Ivan could barely stand the anticipation or the chafing of the leather against the more sensitive areas of his tentacles... and finally, when he was nearly about to exude ichor uncontrollably all over the rug, the knock on the door came, and he smiled."

[Catsbrains]

17. soooo creative!!

[Rabrrrrrr]

18. Ocelot, your stories are always over the top and wonderful!

:applause:

[The Velveteen Ocelot]

19. Thanks!

I'll be here all week. Don't forget to tip the Xathagorra.