The Tale of the Malevolent Shoe Monster

There once lived a monster (unless you believe in reincarnation, then chances are he went on to live other lives therefore he didn't live just only the once but in fact numerous times over and over as various things , he sometimes fancied himself as a dung beetle - his reasoning being if life keeps throwing dung at you, you might as well accept it and 'roll with it') .

He was quite a malevolent monster (In fact he just wasn't really much of a morning person. He didn't dig the whole getting up before at least 11am thing and really could be quite grumpy if somebody woke him up. Actions ranged from the array of broken alarm clocks he had mounted onto spikes all around his house , to terrorizing the neighbors cat if it knocked his milk bottles over on the doorstep)

I digress.

Ok , He was a monster , who probably lived previous lives, and who by all accounts wasn't much of a morning person. That's not the point. The point is, he was a monster who loved shoes. Now let's not get into the whole fetish thing. It is in fact, highly probable that there was more to this obsession with shoes than we care to know about, but let's not concern ourselves with this right now and concentrate on what we know, and that is, he liked to wear them on his ears.

I know, I know. Strange isn't it. Point is, having the reputation of a malevolent monster often meant people didn't go out of their way to offend you (or rather point out how silly you looked wearing shoes on your ears ) so the monster, who was actually called Clive, remained oblivious to this for years , until one day he decided to go for a walk in the park one Sunday afternoon.

It was a strange sort of day that day and a lot could be said and noted , by the clouds that formed a very obvious Phallic symbol in the sky , to a bunch of squirrels who had gone mad and we're trying to climb a tree upside down. The main thing to note was that there had been a fire the night before at a local coffee house down the road and coffee granulated smoke had poured out from the building and into the woods. This mixed with the sounds of a passing radio playing punk rock created unbeknownst to Clive , a portal into another world he was yet to discover as he waddled along with shoes on his ears.

It is probably apt at this point to note Clive's appearance , as a monster could hold many different definitions in the mind of a strange and special individual like you and me, I mean right now I'd imagine him to be about 3 foot tall with purple fuzzy hair covering him from head to toe and a grumpy face that resembles an orangutan mixed with an ewok , but with one eye twice the size of other other, quite a mixed up description of a monster, and well, as I'm the author here I'm calling shotgun!

 Another thing to note about Clive, besides looking like something from a trippy fairy story written by teenage potheads (I am suddenly aware that I indeed created him) was that he had a tendency wander off into the woods. This probably dates back to scare period of the 45th century, where monsters would be scouting off into creepy positions around the world before entering the parallel dimensions to a weird place called earth, in which people were so easily scared that being a monster had a satisfaction brought to it like no other. This being an ingrained characteristic of being a monster was one that was difficult to shake, even though for centuries now monsters were unable to teleport to other dimensions (due to the scare factor being completely ruined by animation films that would portray them into being cuddly little blighters often misunderstood) and monsters were often found wandering aimlessly around being taken along by the denim genes of past generations walking repeatedly into walls and disappearing into hedges that were carnivorous and would eat them whole. This tendency took him into the woods and found him headed straight for a shiny round thing hovering above the ground with swirls in it like milkshake and caramel latte mixed together ( in fact that was exactly what it was and at the same time not all it was either)

Clive was momentarily stopped in his tracks when suddenly, from this delicious mix of portal goodness, arose fairies that twinkled in the daylight and giggled a really infectious giggle that just put Clive into a worse mood than he was already in. In fact he took out the special fairy fly swatter that he had tucked away in his fur and waved it menacingly in front of him , feeling all malevolent and such.

It is worth noting here that Fairies such as these were not like normal fairies, for these were in fact stark raving mad. For one, they wore their clothes back to front, tiny legs poking out've armholes in jumpers and heads poking out've holes cut out've jeans with arms through the leg holes. They even wore shoes on their heads, which meant one of two things depending on how you looked at it. To the fairies, who were completely bonkers anyway, this was perfectly normal behavior and was seen as something they were instantly drawn to. To Clive, who had a sensitive disposition when it came to his unusual head-wear immediately saw this as taking the Mickey , and therefore became enraged, when thousands of little fairies suddenly bombarded him like ants to a discarded cola flavored tip-top and the air was suddenly alive with them.

 Armed with his special fairy fly swatter, and flailing around like an angry sea turtle, Clive started swinging manically around himself as he turned this way and that shooting fairies off into the distance (who by the way were currently having a fantastic time thinking this was the usual game of being propelled at speeds faster than you can say 'bibble' which was a game played back on their own world) when suddenly it happened. He stumbled backwards and like a sugar cube landed horizontally into the latte and milkshake portal and vanished into it never to be seen again. 

Of course Clive was seen again, not by the monsters on his own world but rather by a turtle called Biblo (his parents were massive fans of The Lord of the Rings)  It happened as Biblo was reading his paper on the outdoor lavatory and whistling to himself when suddenly , from nowhere, a giant (Biblo was only 6 inches tall) purple angry thing appeared in front of him and slapped him clean in the face with a swatting device propelling his newspaper into the bushes and onto the head of a passing hedgefox called Gumbut who, as it turns out, wore the sparkliest shoes Clive had ever laid eyes on. 

And so it started. The enraged shoe monster called Clive was propelled in random world and went on a malevolent crime spree of petty shoe crimes mercilessly stealing people's shoes and running off with them around his head cackling mischievously as he went....