Awwwwww, Mom, do we gotta go back!!! I was kinda enjoying the extra chocolate fudge, oh…and the goats and hamsters voting for the next MMP-starter… [/whine]
GT
::sulks back to the MMP, but first paints a mustache on spats’s Burt Lancaster monkey poo::
As if. Huh. Chuh. Hmmph.
I hereby declare myself Queen of the MMP (as long as Rue’s better half doesn’t mind).
I don’t need chocolate–I need constant accolades and praise. Make it so.
Come on in, the water’s fine-really.
Dream on, queenie! 
<sticks tongue out at FCM > ducks flying pottery…
Chandelier? Hmmmmm! Intriguing, yet somehow so very … scandalous! Why yes, I shall forward my … ummm … love offering of chocolate. And walnuts. And perhaps a bit of divinity as well, hmmmm?
And so the dance begins! Mustn’t let the wife find out, nononono!
You got chocolate in my monkey poop!
You got monkey poop in my chocolate!
ewww
:flings chocopoop at various posters:
Look, would you people mind at least dropping a scat mat or something before flinging choco-frosted simi-pops all over the place? Someone’s gonna hafta clean that up!
Y’know. Not me. But someone. And they’re not going to be happy about it.
Simians.
Clearly, I am the ultimate MMP goddess.
: preens :
Yeah, that’s what the monkeys wrote on the wall in the mens room.
In feces? Eeew.
Look, guys, this is not what I meant when I talked about fudge. I really meant fudge. That’s all, just fudge. As in “Ohhhhhh, fuuuuuudddddggggge!” only I’m actually saying fudge. That’s it, just fudge.
Wotta’ buncha’ sick twists! Lucy, I’m home!
Well that’s just fudgin wonderful.
::Grabs jeffrice by the ear and drags him over here ::
FCM made me do it. She said you should bring your chocolate love offerings. Probably even said “please,” cuz she’s nice, dammit.
GT
No, no no. I am Queen of the MMP.
Wait. No, that’s too much responsibility. I’m Head Baker. I bake heads. And Collector of Husbands and an Auxiliary Eater of jeff’s fudge.
The MMP has been running for at least four years. Anyone remember a generalized date? Who were the first in, beside Rue?
Er … it’s a lovely garden, and I see the day lilies are doing nicely. But you want to talk about hot?! One-oh-nine yesterday, same forecast for today, and I’m trying to build a brick retaining wall to keep my front yard from sliding into my driveway. On top of that, a prairie fire southeast of town pumped a plume of brown smoke into the air that cast a yellow pall over everything. But … you have a nice garden. Um, you can let go of the ear now. Thank you.
Does that mean there’s really not a chandelier?
Oh trust me, honey-chile. There WAS most definitely a chandelier. Another Doper kindly relieved FCM of that atrocity. But, we have new and exciting atrocities to offer, never fear.
Yes, there was a chandelier. It was the thing legends are made of. Or nightmares. Or legendary nightmares. When Cartooniverse came to dinner, my husband offered it to him. He took it. His wife was not amused when he brought it home. For it was frighteningly tacky.
I have yet to find a substitute prize.
And, no our dining room doesn’t look like that any more. We bought the house despite the chandelier and the blue-veined mirror tiles and oh-so-many other frightening things…
Only on the Straight Dope could you get 38 answers to the straight question “What is the MMP?”
not one of the cool kids
(used to it)
Here, hold this spleen.
Only on the Straight Dope could you be offered a spleen on a Sunday evening. :eek: