THE SECRET DIARY OF DALE CHIPPER

A mini-series about a private detective in the RMNverse.

  • Dudesoft
  • 04/16/2012 05:49 AM
  • 1099 views
Cellstories
Before this universe became RMN, it made its debut on Facebook, when I got really bored and started posting 'cellstories'. One cellstory in particular was well received by my friends, so it spawned sequels.
*bare in mind, these are poorly and often quickly written on a cellphone. Quality varies.


My First e-Story via Cellphone
There was a fleeting moment when the kite stood still. Perhaps I misjudged her flightpath... Had I aimed but five inches higher, perhaps this rattlesnake robot would not crawling in my drawers. Hmm... perhaps I shhould backtrack and let you catch up.
Not a week ago, the Robotic Commitee for Robot Rights assigned me, Dale Chipper, to discover the whereabouts of a secluded Robot Rat testing lab. Apparent reports of cruelty to robot animals came in earlier that day. They had sent five robot investigators, each who were never communicated with again. Perhaps they thought a scalian lizardoid would do a better job. Alas, that is why I got hired. My instinct told me to try asking around Neo-Scarlet street. That's where I met Harlem, the trollite ocelot woman. She tried selling me a proposition I was disinclined to accept. However, when pressed, she admitted to know a man named Xenthrax. His complextion was that of a noobian drain rat, yet his answers were true to his heart.
"Hello," he said, as my lizardoid tail passed through the door. With the passion of a surgeon on holiday forced to deliver a baby between appletinis, Xenthrax offered me a seat. I took it gratefully.
"I've been sent to discuss a bit of disturbing news from the Robotics community," I said, taking my place across from him in this opium den of an apartment. "Perhaps you can tell me where they are abusing Robot animals or I won't rip out your throat." The lizardoid in me caused my temper to rise quickly.
With a hoarse laugh, Xenthrax said, "Perhaps you will not forget the potasium laser dart aimed at your head!"
At this I craned my neck to see a bulldog of a man breathing with the manly brutish might of a locomotive. In his hand, the death dealer was level with my eyesight. My situation could not be more dire. To my better judgement, I refrained from further threats and continued with my inquiry.
"On second thought," I said with a calm smile. "Maybe, this was a mistake."
"Not so fast, Dale Chipper."
Suddenly, my mind began to race as I had not told him my name yet.
"Did you know, I've been asked the same thing by other robot investigators in the past? Each have yet to intregue me. However your tenacity amuses me. Perhaps I can use you to get back at the people who are responsible for the disappearance of my sister. She is both voluptuous and fertile."
"What makes you think I would help with such a thing? My employers are the Robotic Commitee for Robotic Rights. Not a dartrasian scumrat like yourself."
At this point, Xenthrax turned the tables and became a friend dear to my heart.
"Dale, my friend, the people I am after are the ones stealing robots for testing."
"Oh," and a cold clamy hand clenched my soul.


My Fist Cellstory Sequel - Xenthrax and Dale Chipper Dismantle Societies' Garden Industry: The Top Secret Mission
When our destination became clear, I found myself both confused and dizzy. Where had Xenthrax taken me? And why did the air smell like sulferic compost? When did I feed my usolk pirahna fish last? All these questions and many, many more plagued my mind. However, I settled on one alone to ask my escort.
"Why am I helping you, Xenthrax, when I could instead investigate this place on my own?"
He only smiled and nodded ferverishly, thus calming my curiosity with his boyish charms.
Our heliboat landed five leagues from the shores of the isle de frocolopodiso. From there we were to maintain motor silence on our entry as the island was over-run with robot boars led by a cruel cyborg named Timothy-7.
"How in a flybat's hell should we swim all that way in this terrible storm?" I demanded of my brown hairy ratperson of a host.
His reply was simple. "Dale Chipper, you are a valiant detective and probably excellent foosball warrior, yet your lack of transportation imagination baffles my crippled heart that was damaged in the tenth galactic war with the ant aliens of drectoria's ninth moon, Gepitori."
"Yet, my answer is not at hand!" I snarled with all my muscles bulging against my simple white sailor's suit.
"Of course, my friend, I will tell you now. With this kite, which we will now assemble, our sailing needs will be fulfilled. Land shall be under foot and paw soon enough!"
I was awed and shocked by this plot twist.



Not Quite Cellstory since it got deleted twice by the damn delete function - A Dale Chipper Adventure of Lust and Danger
As you may have guessed, our kite missed the tree canope it was intended to stealthily land on. Instead, it crashed in a firey blast atop a robot boar's head. We were detected almost immediately, by the nearby other robot boars, and before long, the massive shadow of Timothy-7 loomed over us, blotting out the sun. I was steeled by the fact Xanthrax, the brave and noble ratperson was beside me.
Soon, we were marched towards a nondescript wooden shack. Marched past the waves crashing on the rocky shore beside us. Marched past the lush blossum of jungle, like the pride stamp of an unshorn virgin. Marched, like robot Jesus not three months past to his robot grave. It was hot, and wet in the stormy summer weather.
The wooden shack crept closer after each footfall. It was made with delicate fingers, for certain, though I could not decide if it was constructed with miftilean red wood, or surtosic oak. Sun, age, and salt water had decayed it to the point of unrecognisable form.
Inside, as the creeky doorway was pressed closed, the pair of us were forced to our knees by the robot boars. Before my jaw stood Timothy-7's pelvis, which had been cybernetically enhanced with a killasion firecanon. Beside me, Xanthrax wept like a babe who had been slapped on the bottom unsuspectingly by its very own mother during breastfeeding.
One of the robot boars transformed into a boar on its hind legs. When it had done this, it proceeded to a cobwebbed corner, lost in darkness, to retrieve a red leather box that showed signs of time on the corners. Inside lay what looked like a chemestry set, but was in fact a truth teller.
Two long metal plugs were slid forcibly into Xanthrax's nostrils, and almost instantly he began to babble.
"We came here in search of my sister who was abducted to the research facility in the deep of this jungled isle. Yesterday I had waffles that were burnt slightly on the edges. A week ago, I found a prostitute who had big lips. When I was young, I cried myself to sleep each night."
The robot boar on its hind legs withdrew the truth teller plugs somberly, and a silence spread across the air like peanut butter. No one dared say a word, and Timothy-7's voice was shakey when he instructed that I be tested next.
The metal was cold and wet, as they had refused to wipe off the plugs. Xanthrax was suffering from a month-long yardasolop flu, and was very runny that day. When the metal slid through my nostrils, a weeping cry of shame shivered through my spine as if a ghost had walked through my arm.
I spoke then a truth so powerful and true, that the plugs ejected themselves on their own accord.
"After I am free of this hut, I will rip out the jugular of whoever is in charge, with my bare fangs."
Timothy-7 and I exchanged a meaningful glance, and at that moment in history, we were brothers. However, not all meetings end well. At that moment, the creeky door slammed open with the added force of the sea wind. In the frame, stood the head of island security, Salitoridof. His thinning blond hair was whirling about like a swarm of bees, and no one paid him much mind except a solitary robot boar. Everyone else was still reeling from my powerful words.
"What is this, Timothy-7? I ordered the intruders to be shot. We are to have taco dinner tonight, and yet you waste time on these wretches?" asked Salitoridof.
Timothy-7 apologised first to the head of security, and then to me. He placed a hand on each hip, fore he had two, and prepared to fire his killasion firecanon. A single tear fell from his eye as he turned sharply and fired at the man in the doorway. Salitoridof flew beyond all recognition into the horizon, slowly breaking down into a million pieces that would later feed the crabs.
Timothy-7 offered Xanthrax and myself a hand, and bid us good day. He turned again to leave, yet I stopped him.
"But, my friend, you are my only hope in this dark hour. Please lend us your strength in this expedition," I said.
"You ask too much of me, brother," said Timothy-7. And then I realised the naked truth. He was in fact my real brother, long lost after so many years.


The Trouble with Trouble with Lioncrabs: A Dale Chipper Adventure of Lust and Valiant Acts
With Timothy-7 is the lead, we made rather good time crossing through the jungle. That is until Xenthrax tripped on a vine and tumbled into the rest of us so that we fell like children in an ancient treasure trove. Our fall was long and cold, for a minute I considered the possibility that we fell off the planet. However, this madcap possability was stiffled by the realness of hard ground. Xenthrax and I were lucky that Timoty-7's massive cyborg body broke our fall, unfortunately, Timothy-7 was killed by my lizardoid weigh, and I forever lost my dear long-lost brother. We held for him a momenous funeral and continued onwards alone and lost.
Our way led to a cave filled with creatures that were half lion and half crab. They were hungry, but we were more hungry, so we slew the tiny critters and ate a gormet meal.


Considering a Lapdance: A Dale Chipper Survival Tip

Where Xenthrax and I found ourselves was the very lap of danger I had never imagined possible. To be perfectly clear, it was the lap of a giant hippopotamus crossed with a hyena. While it was a patchy-haired disturbing sight to see, I had to admit I found her charming. She was exotic and spoke no common languages. However, she did read body language well. It so happens that scalian lizardoids are the galaxies leader in body language communications. Before pioneers taught us Common, we used body language as our primary source of communication. Sure it was primative, but that was ten centuries ago, so who cares, right?
Anyway, back to the broad. She looked me over with cooing eyes as I explained our dire situation and the fact that Xenthrax needed medical attention after breaking his leg three miles ago. We used a splint to fix the problem, but ratpersons are unused to pain, and so he kept moaning about his half-ripped off leg as if it were life and death. Seriously, it was annoying. Ratpeople should learn to regrow their limbs like Lizardoids.
Sure enough she understood my every gesture, and willingly led us to the nearby medical facility. It was a small concrete hut that held medical supplies, and was thankfully under no security. We found also that our friend had some degree in medicine, as she patched up Xenthrax's wound with the skill of a 100-year-old artisan of ancient clockwork.
It soon grew dark, and our motly crew of three took a nights rest in the supply hut. We wined and dined on cough syrup and energy tablets. The odd mix got us very high.
When I woke up, the hippo-hyena was naked beside me and we were half way up a huge tree.
How did that happen?


Candid Jinx of a Thousand Dinosaurs: A Dale Chipper Adventure in Time
Where had we landed, this question bothered me greatly. One moment, we were high on medicine cocktails. The next, in a large tree. Where was Xenthrax? Why was our hippo-hyena host naked? Why was I dressed in a scubadiving suit? The entire situation left me bamboozled and without an answer.
I took a gander over the tree's edge. We were in a nook between two mammoth branches. Almost an armpit, as it seeped inward. We were miles above the ground. Even me lizardoid vision could barely make out the ground. This was a very tall tree. How in a baltronion toadfoot had we got that high? No pun intended.
My naked friend woke up, and I gave her strips of my wetsuit to cover her indecency. When that was finished, we had little choice but to climb down. It was hours until we reached the ground. My claws were killing me by the end. The jungle ground was severely overgrown. I did not expect this. It was as if we had somehow reached a whole new jungle. That... or we had shrunk to the size of turtles. This, I refused to accept. Until we met the tyrannasaurus rex, that is. Towering above us with tusk-like fanges the size of grown men, the t-rex began to drool in our general direction. Clearly, this beast of a forgotten age thought us to be lunch.
'Run,' I advised, forgettong my mute mistress could not speak Common. I ran with all my speed and wit, and was soon alone, fore my unfortunate friend had not understood me, and was eaten before she could sign language a scream. For a time, I caught my breath behind a towering oak. Where, in holy hell, had I landed this time. Sure, there was no proof to discuss my potential timetravel to a prehistoric era... and we had only gotten high on medical cocktails. But, could perhaps our collected high states have persuaded reality to rift and bend itself around our minds, so much so that our bodies were propelled into a forgotten age?
No, this was silly. Perposterous. I closed my eyes. The friendly voice of Xenthrax came to me. Had he somehow landed nearby me? Opening my eyes, I found a velocoraptor with the face of a ratperson standing before me.
'Xenthrax? What happened to you, my friend?' I asked.
'Nothing, Dale Chipper. Why are we here do you think?' was the mutated raptor's reply.
'Somehow my idea seems unbelievable, so I won't be sharing it. Have you grown a mushroom on your chin?' Sure enough, a red and whit mushroom cap was blooming on Xenthrax's chin.
'How odd. Would you like to eat it?' Xenthrax asked.
'Yes, I would.' Reaching out, I could not grab hold the mushroom. 'Could you stay still? You are backing away.'
'I am not, you are shinking, Dale Chipper. '


A Spitting Image: A Dale Chipper Tall Tale
Never had I spent the night so restless. My mind was yet plagued by haunts of eons past. Still my bones muster the will to stand, despite contrary orders from my brain. If this was to be the final stage of life and death for all concerned with my adventures, then so be it. As I opened my eyes, expecting only the juicy jaws of deadly dinos lurking above my resting space, instead I am met by Xenthrax, not as a velociraptor with the face of a ratperson, but instead he approched and was the ratperson I knew and love.


When the Sky Fell to the Earth: A Dale Chipper Espionage Tale
If words could describe how we found the medical facility I was charged with finding, perhaps they would be, "by mistake."
After my drug-induced state wore off, a week had passed. Apparently, the three of us wandered around the island talking about dinosaurs and stuff before waking up for real outside the medical facility.
It was surrounded by towering cement walls topped in barbed wire. We had few if any options, no weapons, and were all nude and covered in poison ivy rashes. Clearly, our drug trip had been interesting. If only I could remember it! Anyway, we walked around the facility, hoping to find a hole in security. Under a tree we found nothing. In the sewage pipe, we found nothing but irritants to our rashes. At the frontgate, we found a single guard. In my rage, I ripped off his arms and left him to die. Inside, more concrete. Emotionless concrete in the boxy shape of shelter. There was a large roll up garage door near the back that was unmanned. I lept through the metal as if it were paper. Inside the security alarm went off for some reason. Maybe because they found Armless Joe out front. Either way, it was time to move. We slipped down a corridor marked B2. It wasn't long before I discovered a door markd in binary. Turning to Xenthrax, I admitted, "I can't read binary!"
To which he replied, "I however can."
Pressing me to one side with a sweeping gesture of a chambermaid disregarding a chastising remark, Xenthrax set to work. For five minutes, the ratperson stood studying the 0's and 1's of the door. His face posed in awkward contemplation of a turtle understanding a clam's purpose in life. After this time, he thrust a finger into the air and triumphantly accounted his discoveries. "My companions in this very interesting mission across the seas, this door says 'change room'."
Then a surprising idea struck me. We could have easily just checked the door. So, we did. Stepping through the not-so-magical portal, I found to no surprise, a locker room full of uniforms.


Singing the Lark of Genocide: A Dale Chipper Crusade into the Realm of Disaster
Well, the idea of disgusing ourselves as medical facility workers failed us from the outset. It prooved to be a most fruitless effort. Within minutes the all robot human cast of workers caught us; the hippo-thing, ratperson and scalian lizardoid. Perhaps it was an oversight on Xenthrax who had initially convinced me of this plan.
Marched through the corridors in shackles, we were led through a vast room full of robot rats in cages. In a small office that overlooked the lab, the three of us were thrust to our knees.
"It has been a long time, hur brother," said a deep rumbling voice. I'd recognise that voice anywhere. It was the voice of my late brother Timothy-7.
"Timothy-7! How are you alive? How did you get here ahead of us?" I asked in haste.
A man with the head of a poodle and body of orang-utan stepped forward, creasing his elegant grey pinstripe suit.
"Naturally, he arrived while you had that long lasting drug session," explained the poodle-utan. "We discovered and have been tracking your progess for many days, Dale Chipper. Including of course the capture of our security cyborg."
"Oh," I said.


The Fallacy of Sinister Monologues : A Dale Chipper Adventure
"Alas, you've been a thorn in my side for far too long, Dale Chipper." The poodle-headed orang-utan knuckled his way around the three of us. In his malice-filled aura of triumph, Xenthrax soiled himself and that hippo-thing fainted. Shortly after, Xenthrax fainted as well, landing with a squelch sound as the diarea had filled his entire outfit up to the collar. I alone stood my ground.
"Why are you torturing robot rats?" I demanded in a tone befit a king.
"Why indeed," said the poodle-utan. "My name, if I may introduce myself, is Doctor Struflumpicus! You may call my Flumpy."
"K."
"To answer your inquirey with an inquirey, Why do you live?"
"Are you still talking?" I had stopped listening, and had examined our surroundings. It was a simple affair. Small, dusty, paper-strewen desks and windows that had seen many years. Perhaps too many. My heart fell.
"Dale Chipper, you are a worthy opponent. Perhaps I should offer you a martini in my study."
"K," I shrugged.
"Timothy-7, send these two too a more... shall we say, fitting location."
"K," said Timothy-7.
Frumpy turned on one hand, and knuckled his way into a small, two-man elevator.
Up we went, the elevator was stuffy, and confining. I could barely fit my tail in, with that huge sack-like ape. Inside, some terrible music from Ofnar's satelite moon played with that scratchy rhythm, I'm sure you're familiar with. Eventually the elevator stopped, arriving into a wide, 70's Earth style flat. There, Doctor Struflumpicus ventured toward a minibar, where he poured himself a hard glass of hardashian whisky.
"How do you take your martini, Dale? Let me guess... 'Shaken, not stirred'. Ah ha ha ha."
Disregarding that loser of a doctor, I found a comfortable tiger's fur to sit on.
"Tell me, Frumpy," I began, settling into the fragrant air of this horribly comfortable room "When are you plotting on explaining your actions on this island?"
Doctor Strufrumpicus handed me my drink. He settled crossed-leggedly in a chair shaped like a set of hams, yeah hams. ...You read correctly.
"You're a tenacious fellow, Dale Chipper. However, I will only tell you when you've decided on my offer. Join our crusade, Mr. Chipper, and we shall be bunkmates!"
"Pardon?" I begged, tossing the martini violently across the room.
"I said, 'join me in my crusade,'" Doctor Strufrumpicus clarified.
"In that case," my reply started, "What are we doing on this island, and could we please stop?"
"I will explain over dinner," Frumpy promised. "Now you are welcome to rest and consider this proposition."
"K." My last word was followed by a sleeping dart in my jugular. Strufrumpicus lowered a straw from his poodle mouth as consciousness slipped from my grasp.


The Terrific Agent of Sex Education Except Not Pornographic and Totally Okay for Children: A Dale Chipper Adventure
When I woke in a pile of vomit, I considered my situation worse than previously. As it turned out Xenthrax was thrown in the same cell as me, and had vomitted his entire five course dinner on my face upon seeing my perdicament. I punched his face with such vigor that his fur was removed temporarily into a pile of mush. Yet reformed itself with haste because of the nanotechnology implants in his bloodstream.
He explained that we were inside a birdcage shaped like a 50's earth themed living room and that we were dangling fifty feet above a pit of lava.


Brainstorm on Fire - A Dale Chipper Adventure
It's been a fortnight since I was thrust into this unsavoury birdcage. We had been fed Taco Bell, chili and other smell-inducing meals. Doctor Strufrumpicus was a poor mannered host. He refused our every plea, and each day dropped our cage an inch closer to the lava. We were considerably far up still, though the dire situation had few outcomes. Even my scalian lizardoid skin was under great stress.
On the day of my inevitable escape, I said to my cellmate Xentrax, "Your mission better pay what you quoted."
To this, dear Xenthrax, father of one, lover of many, he replied, "I will indeed, fore we are as brothers."
I played my cards right, it would seem. When I came to this island, I was alone. Now I had family. Perhaps one day when I am old, I shall look back on this adventure with agony and fear. However, at that moment, Xenthrax had emboldened me with his heroic speech. After finishing the last chewy bites of my double beefy volcano burito, I set forth to live out my plan. At first glance, I suppose it would seem to be a simple plan, yet this will not do. When our next meal would arrive, I would let loose such a vile gas that our feeder will colapse, pulling the door open on his decent.
Alas, the moment sprang upon us like a cat in heat. The feeder was a short, fat boatman with little to no neck. I gave my present through the feeding slot, and to my clever design had the door opened for us. Xenthrax was awestruck, so I led him be hand. We were now free. If only now we could stop the mad doctor from his evil game. If only, a phrase I seldom commit to.


In Haste He Sleeps - A Dale Chipper Adventure
This must be brief, my PDA battery is dying... There are moments like this, entering my journal logs on the go, that make me wonder why I chose such a dangerous profession. Yet, here I am. We have both showered (much overdue for the Ratperson, Xenthrax) and ate a more hospitable meal in the robot employee lounge. In short, we are refreshed. There has been no sign of alert as yet. Though, I belive this spell of laughable calm will pass. To be honest, I hope it happens soon.


Final Thoughts by Dale Chipper - The Last Dale Chipper Adventure
When I entered the throne room of my longtime rival, that poodle-headed orang-utan, he turned softly like an angel to face me.
Beside me, was no one. I told my rat friend to stay outside. What would happen next was both profound and unheard of.
I died. Well, not in the typical sense, since I was able to survive to tell the tale. How did I manage? By biting a near-death capsole from a vending machine inside the lab cafeteria.


Quick Winds - A Dale Chipper Tale
Something horrible crept towards my office from across the space-street. I gazed at it with a disdainful eye, pondering reluctantly what its purpose was.
The creature was long and serpent-like, topped with a human hispanic woman's head. The creature slithered in through my front door and stood up like a hissing cobra.
"Dale Chipper, you are both wise and gentle, please save my marriage."
I recoiled at her ugly appearance. She was definitely some sort of monster, though which one I am stumped to say.
"Why would I bother?" I asked polite as I could manage.
"Because, I am your mistress," she explained.
Then and there, we made long, passionate love. She quickly became a beautiful woman the instant I touched her scaly body.
"Alright, I will take your case of the failing marriage." I thumped my lizard hand on the desk we were laying on, and stood up to get dressed in one of my fine itazilion suits.
"Close the door before you leave, or after you leave. The choice is yours." I left with an air of elegance, and took a cab to the Bank of Moslik'rot. There, I found my first clue.

Yours Gorgeously,
-Dale Chipper, private dic.


...And then I grew bored of Detective Dale Chipper.

See more events in the RMNverse 69XX era HERE.