3-word story 2

This is the second story written by the fans on the forum using the rules where each poster adds three words to the end of the story. It started immediately after the inevitably abrupt ending of the first story. To facilitate reading we'll try to keep the latest version up-to-date here. Refer to the original thread for attributions.


 * Plummeting, the spy fell through a bowl of leaping poison dart frogs. The frogs, rare in the soup, were kicking madly, attempting escape. Heat roiled from ogres toiling at forges that Jorge Luis flew above in his heavily armored barges. To say he was a dweed would be more complimentary than he ever deserved.


 * Seven years ago, in another life, he had decided to leave his hedgehog on the doorstep of his mother's bungalow. Now grown into a frightening urban legend which happened to be debunked by Borges, it wasn't a hippopotamus. (As everyone knows, the gunslinger is a pretty bird, and a clever florist in Shanghai can easily make a cage of delicate lotus blossoms which has trapped it successfully. This endeth the digression.)


 * Meanwhile, the other airship captain, whose cargo of hippopotamuses had already escaped the transdimensional pirate last Wednesday, in a small clockwork submarine palace, left beneath a peculiar rotund idol, for sacred marshmallow peeps, gazed expectantly skyward. Seven falling stars with six bubbling cauldrons full of alien vegetation, which made loathsome music resembling beginner violins. An orchestra entered as the spy began to wonder why the hippopotamuses could barely even jive these days. Perhaps, he thought, they had lost their dancing shoes and couldn't replace their infectious rhythm. The sight of nine guitar-playing wizards was normal. However, the sound wasn't. (Someone had unplugged the effects pedals and replaced them with monkey cages full of elderly lemurs in tuxedos who had theremins at the ready.)


 * (But I digress.)


 * Our tale returns to the original plummeting spy, who was not forgotten by the few he landed on. This does not mean that the elderly theremin-playing lemurs were amused. Indeed, one of them, an irritable soul, viewed the spy through a telescoping brass-barreled optical device plotting terrible revenge for the spy's betrayal of their deep dark secret. The spy, unknowing, seized a frog from the soup and danced it to the nuclear scientist's coffeepot, where the unfortunate amphibian suffered through experiments of mind-boggling severity, designed to finally explain the Frog Prince Effect.


 * The spy, a little bemused, then poured a cup of completely wretched coffee, and asked why the soup had to have strange croutons that talked back. He did not realise that the croutons were not, in point of fact, actually bread products, being composed instead of bread-shaped shellfish found only in rivers of hippopotamuses. It was then that the jellyfish which the lemur had removed from an unknown orifice made its appearance. The scientist, baffled, removed the offending jellyfish, placed it in a centrifuge where it exploded, spraying emerald ichor into the soup, which was delicious. The spy, however, failed to notice that the wrong condiments had been set out for the soup and thus the whole incident was entirely forgiven. The End.

And after that another new story was born.