I can’t believe the ninjas stabbed me in the back, and didn’t even have the guts to do it to my face.
Captain Euchre Cleans Up
This Roomba would totally be euchred in a cleaning contest with the Captain. (Wikimedia Commons/Guzugi/HO)
So I’m drinking wine the other night with some delicious cheese and crackers I picked up from the St. Lawrence Market, when I made a startling discovery.
I got just a touch tipsy, and when I reached out for an oat cracker, I accidentally knocked the box on the floor. What can I say? Every girl has an embarrassing moment now and again. I went to go clean it up but then knock over the Merlot. Now had red wine all over the floor. A sad state of affairs for a professional cleaner/crime fighter/caterer.
But before I could get a mop, Captain Euchre was on the floor, sucking up the wine, crackers, and even some dust bunnies. And my goodness, did that floor ever look clean when he was done… The floor practically shined a smile back at me.
That experience required some more experimentation. I started leaving bits of food all over the house to see if Captain Euchre would go after it. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to be interested in them and it just attracted ants.
I was just about to call the exterminator, when I realized I was missing a key ingredient. Captain Euchre didn’t go after the crackers until the wine had spilled on the floor. So I tried pouring a bit of wine onto one of the piles of food and, quick like a cat, Captain Euchre was down on all fours devouring it. Well, down on his face, technically. He doesn’t move much.
So I tried pouring some more wine on the other side of the room, and he slid like a very slow and slug-like snake to get at it. His drool and shirt polishing the floor as he went. And it seems any type of alcohol works: wine, scotch, vodka, cooking sherry.
But I didn’t want to have to keep walking around the house, pouring alcohol on the floor. I needed a way for Captain Euchre to be self-sufficient. Then I had a Fantabrilliant idea. Like the carrot on a stick used in cartoons to get horses to run, I could create a device that could automatically pour the alcohol onto the floor so Captain Euchre could clean it up. So I duct taped a bottle of the cheapest malt liquor to his head. And it has one of those stopper thingies that limits the amount of liquid poured to drizzle. And then I sent him loose.
My place is now spotless. His saliva even shampooed the rugs.
Then I had an even more Fantabrilliant idea. Why not use his new ability to help AAA Cleaning… Now, obviously I needed to play down the organic aspects of his cleaning regimen. Just as people complain that a plate licked clean by the family basset hound still needs to go in the dishwasher, some might be put off by Captain Euchre’s salivating techniques.
So I decided to call him the first human Roomba as they essentially do the same thing. Though, Captain Euchre tends to fall down stairs.
And there are a couple of more glitches to work out. On our first job, Captain Euchre kind of ate a baby. It’s not really his fault, the kid was playing with blocks right in his path. And he just swallowed him up in one gulp. I’m not even sure how he did that. Maybe he has some kind of residual euchre power in his jaw that can make it oversized..
Anyway, it wasn’t a big deal. I got him to spit the child up almost immediately. The kid even giggled about it and gave Euchre a hug.
But the mom went all crazy and kicked us out of the house. We didn’t even get paid.
Some damage control is needed so I don’t scare off future customers. Maybe I should get a bib for Captain Euchre that says “Keep Away From Children.” Or maybe a kidcatcher. Like they have on trains.
Getting Career Advice From Kristen Bell
Doesn't the pixie-sized Kristen Bell look all authoritative dressing down the lanky Martin Starr in this scene from Party Down. And yes, that's the real Sulu in the background. He's got to be the most adorable gay Asian man I've never met.
Since the cleaning and fighting circuit had dried up a bit, and it’s much more strenuous when you actually have to do the work yourself and can’t delegate to your small army of illegal ninjas, I decided branch out into other business opportunities.
You’ve got to expand or die, that’s what the management consultants on House of Lies have taught me. Have you seen that show? It’s a little blue with its filthy language and the S-E-X and flashes of naked people doing naughty things. (You even see Don Cheadle’s bum. Strike that one off the Fantubu-bucket List!) But it’s taught me so much about how to run a business. Most important lessions, take full advantage of the moments when time stops for everyone else but you.
And Kristen Bell’s hair is so adorably fantabulous. The long, wavy hair makes her look glamorous and statuesque. ‘Course I don’t need help with either of those things. Kristen Bell’s barely taller than a fire hydrant. I’m a runway model by comparison. And I always look glamtabulous. But I do like her shade of blond. Maybe the makeup girl at my local Shoppers knows what dye number it is. Something in the 20s, I’m guessing…. I wonder if I can buy a Kristen Bell wig somewhere. Then I go undercover… as Kristen Bell!
Anyway, so thanks to House Of Lies, I decided to expand my business. But into what? Obviously, my vast array of cleaning supplies aren’t that transferable to other professions. But, as you know, I have extremely honed organizational skills and which are transferable to almost any profession, including runway model. What? You really want a disorganized runway model? Think about it!
But then, after sending King Thunder out for another bottle of scotch – for Major Faultline! - a brilliant thought hit me. Thanks to Kristen Bell… again. Because, you see, before Kristen Bell was a management consultant in House Of Lies and after she was a modern-day Nancy Drew in Veronica Mars and concurrent to her being the voice of Gossip Girl in Gossip Girl, she had a guest-starring role on Party Down as a no-nonsense catering company manager. And I realized I could do that. I mean, I can look cute in one of those cater-waiter outfits. And even in this compromised state, I was able to teach Captain Euchre how to mix drinks. What else do you need, right?
Well, apparently, a lot. For starters, Euchre needs a muzzle or bandana to keep his drool from falling into the martinis. Martini drinkers can be such perfectionists! And secondly, the ability to cook a large amount of food. I found that out on my first job this week. AAA Cleaning was booked for a retirement party. Cecil Simpson was retiring from Globotrobal Systems after 50 years on the job. He started in the sweatshop at 15 and had worked his way all the way up to middle management. In addition to the party, for his long years of service, he was given a gold pen. Of course, they took away his company walker. Whatever, it was a truely inspiring ceremony. Although it was difficult to hear all the speaches with everyone shooting their drink orders over and over. I mean, alcoholic much? I’ll get your drinks to you after I’m done being inspired! Some people just shouldn’t drink. I think I did most of them a favour when I realized I forgot the gin – hey, I remembered all the different garnishes! – and put water in their drinks instead.
But then it came time for the dinner. And apparently they were expecting me to provide it. I mean, that’s a little much, isn’t it? I set the tables and Captain Euchre served the damp, watery cocktails. And I was perfectly prepared to serve the food, but I didn’t think I had to buy and cook the food. That’s what chefs are for, aren’t they? Sure, I agreed to the menu with the CEO’s secretary Gladys – it sounded amazing! But I thought it was just to let me know what I was supposed to be carrying. Seriously, where was I supposed to find Komodo dragon for 300 in Toronto? The zoo hung up on me right away. Where’s our tax money going, if not to Komodo dragons?
Luckily, there was a KFC nearby. So I put Dyna Gal’s credit card in Captain Euchre’s mouth and wheeled him over to buy 150 25-Piece Party Packs. And just told them Komodo dragon now comes breaded. And yes, hand-farmed sea kelp salad with virgin pearl oil dressing tastes a little like coleslaw, but you and I have the palate to tell the difference, right?
I’m so going to H E Louis CK.
But, know I know, right? It’s not like they teach these things in school. Wait, that came out wrong. It’s not I ever went to school, right? The only thing that made the whole night worthwhile was the $15, 000 dollar cheque Gladys handed me at the end of the night. I guess Komoda dragons are expensive. And since I didn’t have to actually pay for Komodo dragon, booze, or any kind of wait or kitchen staff, I once again have proven myself a shrewd and Fantabulous business woman!
Bottles Up!
Heeelllloooooo everyone! Totally swaying all different ways right now. And I can’t stop burping! At least it’s not coming out form the other end. I think I drank a little too much paint thinner — I mean Scotch. Right? …Anyway!
chickeny goodness
I just looked over Major Faultline’s blog just now. And wow, he’s got major problems. First of all, how can he be going to parties when he’s busy time traveling and digging for booze? And secondly, he’s looking for the wrong kind of booze. Bourbon? That’s the kind of chicken you find at the food court. He is so funny!
Oh, am I feeling really sick. I knew I shouldn’t have taken that second glass.
And why would Rehab be for quitters? That’s where the party is. I would know because ladies are always free before midnight.
Oh gosh, I can feel my eyes drooping. Have a Fantabulous day.. night.. time! (Travel.)
Bottle Show
Fantabulous Gal! Your saviour and your pal! Off to rescue Major Faultline!
The George Brown Conspiracy
If your janitor looks like this, you're okay. He's not evil.
So I saved the world again, because I’m – well my name says it all – Fantabulous Gal. Well okay, maybe not the world, but certainly the George Brown College student body.
I uncovered a massive conspiracy this week that put all the lives of the pupils at stake, at least the young and fashionably-attired ones like yours truly.
I had headed over to my class a little early, partially because I was supposed to meet up with one my classmates, Charlotte, to photocopy her notes because I spilled wine on mine, but mostly I need my “not-with-Captain-Euchre” time. Who knew that a semi-catatonic, incontinent, infantile man child would be so needy? Kim did try to warn me.
Charlotte was a no-show. She didn’t even make it for the course. I thought it was odd because, although I had only spoken to her during our one class and a couple of emails afterwards and then set her a custom mug from Zazzle, she seemed like a rather studious, well-organized girl with a great fashion sense like myself – pastel colours, fiery red hair like Bryce Dallas Howard in 50/50. I mean sure she might not be the most redeemable character in the film but her hair was gorgeous and powerful. Certainly not like that bland yellowy-blond style that Evan Rachel Wood sports in The Ides of March. A weak hairstyle for a weak character. I mean, seriously… Spoiler Alert … killing yourself because your sexual relationship with a presidential candidate might come to light. Please… Monica Lewinsky got a handbag line, lost weight through Jenny Craig and became friends with Tom Green. Well, maybe that last one is reason to commit suicide. At least George was his usual dreamy self – and in the end he won! Feel good movie of the year. Except for the suicide stuff.
But Bryce Dallas Howard had to deal with a bald, weak, possibly dying Joseph Gordon-Levitt. It’s hard for anyone to stick that out and keep hair that shiny. I mean, I admit, he did make a kind of a cute baldie. Kind of reminded me of a frailer Mr. Clean, who I’ve always… Spoiler Alert … had a bit of a crush on. I keep his spray bottle on my nightstand. Certainly, a lot more attractive than, say, Cynthia Nixon (Miranda from Sex and the City). She’s shaved her head for some Broadway show where she plays a terminal cancer patient and she kind of looks like an alien.
As soon as class started, I wondered if Charlotte was the smart one for skipping. We were subjected to a meandering lecture on how to pick the right grapes. Apparently, larger is better. When the break came, I couldn’t wait to get out of there.
When I got into the hall, I heard muffled screams coming from one of the women’s washrooms – the same one I was so unceremoniously ejected from last week. The door had been replaced, though. I burst in to find three of those purple-robed janitors dunking a tied-up young woman headfirst into the toilet stall they had been praying at last week. The fourth janitor, the burly one, was guarding another tied-up young woman with vibrant red locks… It was Charlotte.
But before I could ask her if she brought her notes from last week, and did she get my emails, and how did she like the mug, and did she see 50/50, and wasn’t George dreamy, there was a blinding flash of light and a monstrous gulping sound and the woman the other three were holding was gone. I really should have done more detective work after I ran into them the first time, but super heroing is really more of a fists first, don’t take your work home with you kinda job, am I right?
Thankfully, the burly one explained. Not exactly sure why. Maybe he feared me, because this time I was carrying my Fantabu-Taser, or maybe just liked the sound of his own voice. Apparently, things had got out-of-control at the school a few years back and it had become impossible to keep clean. So after consulting occult books and websites, they found out how to summon the God of Cleaning through the second toilet stall of this fifth-floor washroom. His name is somewhat unpronounceable so they call him Herman. All the janitors had to do was sacrifice three young women to Herman every Thursday during the school year and He would ensure the school stays spotless. A Fantabulous plan! And one that, as a cleaning professional myself, could really appreciate.
I admired their ingenuity but I couldn’t really abide by their wanton disregard for human life. Especially since, as Burly was talking, Charlotte escaped and so suddenly I turned into the third sacrifice! I mean, they do have good taste in sacrificial subjects but holy Herman, I don’t wanna be flushed! Burly moved towards me and I Fantabu-Tasered him. He fell like a ton of something heavy.
Then the other three charge at me. Or rather past me. Out the door.
I thought it was over but then Burly got up and attacked. He Captain-Kirk-kicked the Fantabu-Taser out of my hands and then we had an old-fashioned Batgirl-style fight on our hands. BIFF, KAPOW, and so on. Well except he was doing most of the BIFFs and KAPOWs. Fighting in heels? Not as easy as it looks in Charlie’s Angels!
He grabbed me and carried towards the toilet stall. I could see from the bowl, Herman was drooling with anticipation. Not Captain Euchre drool, but pretty gross all the same. I was just about to be devoured when a high heel flew across the bathroom – WHIWHIWHIWHIWHIP – and hit Burly – POW! – right in the head. Charlotte was standing in the doorway – minus one shoe. Burly stumbled back confused and loosened his grip. I managed to break free and kick him into Herman.
There was a blinding flash of light and a monstrous gulping sound and Burly was gone.
I went over to thank Charlotte, and ask her for some show fighting tips, but then another noise emanated from Herman. Burly obviously disagreed with him.
Noy, did he ever! Herman exploded over the entire building. And all over me! I showered for six and a half hours.
I think I’m going to drop that course. Just… don’t tell Captain Euchre.
Skool Nitez
George Brown College. (Wikimedia Commons/Jaipuneet Singh/HO)
So I’ve enrolled in night school. It’s a bit of a rash decision, I know. But I needed something to keep me occupied because January a slow month for cleaning and I can’t spend my entire day just sitting on my tuchus, drinking Merlot, eating bonbons and dealing with Captain Euchre’s little “messes.”
I first thought I’d enroll the two of us in a Mommy & Me correspondence class I saw a poster for at the supermarket. But it was full and so now we find ourselves as George Brown College continuing education students. It’s amazing how little screening is involved. We didn’t even need to put our real names on the online application forms.
Most of the classes were filled up but there were a couple of last-minute dropouts for classes on Thursday night. One was an entrepreneurial studies course about running a small business. But that seemed silly to take. Because I already have a successful (or at least formerly successful) small business. I could teach that class.
Week One: Hire ninjas. Week Two: Get capital. Week Three: Buy cleaning products. Weeks Four and Five: Fight crime. Weeks Six through Eight: Clean homes and businesses. Weeks Nine through Eleven: Merchandise. Week 12: Avoid lawsuits, having your employees disappear on you and your money stolen. That last week I’d need to brush up on myself, but you get the picture. Still, Euchre has deplorable phone habits so I thought he could use it.
For me, though, I chose a far more beneficial course to edify myself – wine-making. At least, so I thought. I expected the class to be more hands-on. I even bought special goggles and grape-stomping boots for it. (I realize people usually do it barefoot. But that’s just icky.) But the teacher just spent the first hour and a half talking about tannins.
Then the break came, thankfully. I had to go freshen up but noticed that both little girl’s rooms on the fifth floor were closed for cleaning. As a consummate cleaning professional and project manager myself, I felt the need to point out the inherent flaw in their janitorial deployment. They were either neglecting bathrooms on other floors or were simply overstaffed. And I simply just had to know what they were using to wash the floors because they looked immaculate. Not even my salt-stained boots left a mark.
The first washroom door was locked but I knocked because I heard moaning. But a voice told me to come back later because a private tutoring session was going on. You’ve got to the respect the commitment of the teachers here.
But you won’t believe what I found behind the second washroom door…
Janitors! Four of them wearing purple robes over their coveralls kneeling in front of second toilet stall in a half-circle. I don’t know why they needed four people to clean a bathroom or even how they managed to do it because none of them had mops. But I tell you the place was spotless. I’ve never seen a bathroom so clean in my life and people have told me I have OCD – Mean people I don’t talk to anymore.
But just as I was about to ask them if they had ever considered moonlighting as day-time cleaners in ninja outfits, the big one in the centre notices me, picks me up and tosses me out of the restroom, which hurt a lot considering the door was still closed.
I was just about teach him a lesson with my Fantabu-Lasso, but then realized that the break was almost over and I’m not one to be tardy.
Next week, though, when I’m back in the area, I might have a stern word with him. Also, I should try to find out where they bought those robes, because I think the purple would really bring out my eyes.
Like a Defib Paddle to my Heart
Hey there, everyone! How are you? Me? I’m FANTABULOUS!
I’m riding on a cloud and nothing can ever bring me down! Lawsuit from Ronin Force? Whatever. Missing ninjas? Who needs ‘em? Crime-fighting/cleaning business going down the tubes? A minor detail.
Why am I so happy? What, you think I need a reason to be fantabulously perky today? Sorry, that was rude of me. Still, I’m really, really happy!
So to make a long story short, and then make it long again, I met the Electrician today.
Yeah, the Electrician. If that’s not Fantabulous, I need to change my name! And I’m not going through that again. So, yes – it is Fantabulous!
For those of you know don’t know, the Electrician is the super-powered, super-manly, super-hot, super-dedicated and super-hot superhero leader of the Mega Powers League, back from before I was born. He ended up disappearing into the OtherTime Zone during the Obfuscated Wars (if you don’t remember them, that means the good guys won!) but now he’s back, and did I mention he’s super-hot? In like a Harrison Ford, Warren Beaty kind of way.
I’ve had a crush on him since forever. We’d crossed paths before, a few weeks ago, when Captain Euchre and I arrested the Salad King, but he and I didn’t talk much – we both played it cool, what with having to deal with a vegetable. And the Salald King.
What I didn’t know, he’s also the Plumber’s dad. Honestly, I had no clue. The two don’t really look all that much alike, especially since the Electrician didn’t age in the Other Time Zone (he’s really handsome by the way. The Electrician, not the Plumber). I was actually over at the Electrician’s house to pick up the cosmically-charged Captain Euchre euchre card the Plumber found, and on the way down to the basement, I stumbled into the Electrician’s muscled, masculine arms, a small gasp emerging from my lungs.
“Who the hell are you?” he growled in that manly, take-no-nonsense way of his. “And what are you doing in my house? Are you one of my useless son’s friends?”
So I said, “I wouldn’t say friends, exactly, Although he has worked for me on occasion, doing the odd jobs for me and my cleaning business, AAA Cleaning. Have you heard of it? Please say you have!” I said, trying not to sound too desperate.
Sadly, he hadn’t heard of my cleaning company, which was a real shame, but the mention of cleaning led him to regale me with stories of his adventures against a team of half janitors/demon summoners he had fought before, which was really cool, and before I knew it, time had flown by!
But in the end, I had to leave and get the euchre card, but assuming the Plumber finds more of them, then I’ll have plenty of excuses to come by for more visits!
And maybe I’ll have a short fuse or two!
Card-Based Controls
Hooray! I can control Captain Euchre's pooping!
Ninjaless and Royally Euchred
This is last photo I have of my ninjas. If you run into them, can you please contact me on Capester? I know it's a little blurry, but if you look closely you'll see them behind the white wall.
Where are my ninjas? I mean, seriously. I need to know. There’s cleaning that needs to be done. I don’t mean AAA Cleaning cleaning. Although keeping up with even the little wrok that has been coming in since Ronin Force sued me for trademark infringement has been driving me batty!
No, I’m talking about my home. It’s in dire need of cleaning. I’ve been far too busy with planning events and categorizing Euchre cards to give the place the scrubbing it needs. I think I’ve managed to figure out the cards’ connection to Captain Euchre’s intestinal tract. For one thing, no matter what card you use, don’t feed him turkey stuffing mailed to me by my American super pen pal The Free Marketeer … He doesn’t understand that Thanksgiving happened last month.
If I can find the rest of his Euchre deck, maybe he’d be less gassy. But I have no one to delegate that task to… except for maybe The Plumber. But surely I’m not that desperate…
I know! I could hire another cleaning company to fix up my place and then go look for more of Euchre’s cards. Then again most charge at least $20/hour. Who can afford to hire cleaners in this economy? Man, my ninjas were so much cheaper. They worked for miso soup.
Seriously, soup… I mean, sure, it’s tasty. But you can’t have it every day. The salt content is so high I’m surprised none of them have hypertension.
Maybe I should check some hospitals…
