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TOPIC: The Chronicles of CoronaCyrus
The Chronicles of CoronaCyrus 2 Weeks, 5 Days ago  


Corona Cyrus was born in the Chinese city of WOOHOO.
He looked around and he liked what he saw.
There was fun to be had. Since the only purpose of his life was to have fun, this was excellent.
His Auntie FLU and Uncle CC (Common Cold) told him the world was ready for some fun.
He girded up his loins and set out for adventures.
“Another adventure” he often thought.

All he wanted to eat were noodles.
It didn’t matter what flavour or texture.
Rice noodles; egg noodles; Singapore noodles.
When China ran low on noodles he went to Italy.
Big on noodles, often called Pasta.
Spaghetti. Tagliatelle. Lasagne.
Christopher Columbus lived in Italy and went to China.
So Corona Cyrus happily explored the globe too.

In this marvellous universe, he met Lemuel Gullible.
Why are there no Lemuels these days, he wondered.
Lem showed him all kinds of creatures in Lilliput and Brobdingnag.
He loved Laputa which floated in the air.
He loved the land of the Houyhnhms.
Where horses ruled over humans.

Cyrus had blonde hair, a cheeky smile and a crown with spikes on his little head.


Very soon he discovered the world of FIXON.
There were lots of adventures to be had in FIXON.
Twist was fabulous.
OK. Oliver was sweet but, to be honest, he was a bit too nice.
One dimensional. Which is another word for boring.
The main villain was FAGIN.
Fagin was sweet but, to be honest, he was a bit too nasty.
He was a DEW.

Dews were drops that appeared on grass in the mornings.
They had big noses and spent life counting money.
To be honest, they were a bit boring.
When the sun came out they disappeared.
Next morning they were back again.
Very mysterious but, to be honest, boring.
And easily offended. When insulted they cried tears which, oddly, looked just like dew.

However, in Twist, Corona Cyrus found a similar soul.
A bit like the ARTFUL DODGER but different.
His name was FEXUS and he was very norty.
Since Cyrus was norty too, they bonded.
And decided to stay together forever.
Another adventure.


Fexus always wore a Top Hat. Cyrus always wore his golden crown.
Fexus had black hair. Fexus had crooked teeth.
Fexus flew faster than Cyrus and could get absolutely everywhere.
When he arrived anywhere, he was in fexus.

They adored big people. Hagrid and Shrek and ogres and giants.
Often they would dance around together. When they were in the mood.
In the country of Brobdingnag they were just like everyone else.
They had a friend called the BFG.
He was very sweet and cuddly, if big people can be cuddly.
Not fat, you understand.
But big. Tall. Huge EEEnormous.

They loved small people too. Lilliput had loads of small people.
Elves, insects, germs, bacteria, mice, dwarves.
Dozy and Grumpy and Sneezy.

But their favourite small person was STOOOPID.
Stooopid was such fun.
He came from a world full of stupids.


Stooopid’s world was
Entirely populated by people who spun around and around.
For no good reason.
Even when they stood still their minds whirled round and round.
Sometimes Cyrus and Fexus would join them.
Then they would spin and spin, faster and faster.
Every now and again a dervish, older than the rest, would fall over and be dead.
This was a shame, but inevitable.
A lot of things are a shame but inevitable.

Stooopidity is inevitable. Like Lemuel Gullible.
So, when that happened, Cyrus and Fexus would jump off and join another dervish.
The next dervish, delighted to have company (they hated social distancing) was delighted.
And they would spin.
Faster and faster.
Round, round, out of their minds.
You think you’re seeing things.
I know you’re blind.

What fun.
Another adventure.


Most places appeared to be run by BOSSIES.
Bossies were elected or grabbed power or took over or were simply born to rule.
Some unpleasant bossies were called NASTIES.
The Nasties wore black and thought themselves very chic indeed.
They hated Dews and tried to blow them off the blades of grass.
But they failed and most Nasties ended up in South America, farming cattles.

Not kettles. Those were farmed in England, where they were used exclusively to make tea.
Bossies invariably got things slightly wrong.
The Bossies in Reel Whirrled decided Cyrus and Fexus were dangerous and should be destroyed.
The main weapon they used to get rid of them were VAX SCENES.

Vax scenes were like sniffer dogs.
They ran around sniffing. Big nostrils. Like the Dews.
Long floppy ears. Drooling mucus. Slimy stuff emanating from their mouths.
When they found Cyrus, Fexus or any of the other, rapidly mutating, characters, they sniffed hard.

Vax scenes were based on vacuums, as the name implies.
Very effective. Hoovers.
One sniff and most of their world disappeared into the nasal cavities.
So they would vacuum them up and, after some time, excrete them…
as poo.


The trouble with this was that the poo then had to be collected.
Dervishes were so busy whirling that they tended to spill the poo.
But what they gathered they put into POO TINS.

The trouble with poo tins, metal containers, was that they allowed the poo to grow.
Over time. It was always so. Put something in a container. It grows.
And sure enough, lots more Cyrus and Fexus mutations grew and jumped out of their poo tins.
So they developed and spread, as they were meant to.
Little Cyruses. Little Fexuses. Giggling and larfing and farting and being norty.
More adventures.

Fexus didn’t like the sunshine. He was so grubby that he found warmth irritating.
It became almost impossible for him to be in fexus.
Cyrus, on the other hand, loved the sunshine.
He splashed about in the Pool of Life and his nose went red.
But nobody noticed. It was always Fexus who drew most attention.


In another world, there was Ada.
ADA was a big, blowsy woman with red cheeks and a red nose.
She had invented a wonderful game called SECKS.
Secks involved rushing at someone and bumping into them.
Sometimes everyone fell over. What fun!

This highly amused Cyrus and Fexus; Ada was very fat and jolly; bumping into her was hilarious.
She was like a trampoline.
Some stoopids just stood around and looked. They didn’t want to join in.
They liked to look.
They were called GAZE.

Gazers were despised. As in other worlds this was officially disapproved.
Technically it was fine to gaze. But passers by sneered, internally.

Like all worlds, they had Bossies there too.
And the Bossies decided Secks was not a good idea. Not a good idea at all.
To be honest, it was a bit boring.
After you’d bumped into a thousand people, it ceased to amuse.
Bouncy Castles can cause disasters. One had to be responsible.
That was what Bossies were for. To be responsible. To stop things.
So they decreed NO SECKS! More Vax Scenes. More sniffer dogs. More poo tins.
More adventures.


Cyrus and Fexus visited all kinds of fantastic CUNTREYS.
There was the Skinnies Island where everything depended on the exact colour and tone of skin.
This was odd.
Cyrus’ crown was covered in small spikes. Skinnies found this unacceptable.
But there was little they could do.

Fexus was, to be honest, dirty. Grubby.
Rarely, if ever, did he even wash his top hat.
Which, at least, had no spikes on it.

But the main concern for skinnies was the precise shade or hue of skin.
Now there had been, over the centuries, cross breeding.
This was very disturbing.
Some skinnies had slightly yellow skin.
Or pinkish brown.
Or dark blue.

Utterly confused by this combination of moralities and observance, anarchy was running riot.
But, for Cyrus and Fexus, anarchy was fun.
An excuse to infect, to affect, to effect, to defect.
As Bobby Dillings once almost sang.
So they joined the skinnies and danced and sang.
This was even more fun than whirling with the dervishes.


The Land of the BEE LEAVERS was milk’n’honey to Cyrus’n’Fexus.
There were a few vegans (they cannot eat or drink milk or honey) but they were respected.
Because it was a crime not to tolerate everyone, however bizarre their behaviour.
Bossies condemned anybody who dared disagree with anything.
This became difficult, as you will imagine.

Some bee leavers thought there was a giant bee in the sky which controlled everything.
This may sound barmy but it gives a nice, simple code for stooopids to obey.
“Only eat fish on Fridays” said one code.
Obey. To disobey meant death. Death was unfortunate.
It tended to be terminal. Unless you ended up as poo in a poo tin.


Many poo tins had been adapted and had become homes for poo.
Many poos decided never to leave the poo tins. They felt safe there. Safe and comfy.
So some poo tins became CON PEWTERS. Con Pewters were metal containers full of wires.
And bites. TERROR BYTES.
Cyrus and Fexus frequently visited these Con Pewters.
They found billions of similar Cyruses there.
And many more adventures. There is more to come. The Chronicles of Corona Cyrus.
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Re:The Chronicles of CoronaCyrus 2 Weeks, 3 Days ago  
I'm sorry this is rather long but it seems to have been read by tens of thousands in a couple of days.
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Re:The Chronicles of CoronaCyrus 2 Weeks, 2 Days ago  
The tune to it in my head was a terrible dirge.
It might be nice put to a jolly calypso.
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