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Tell me a story, or Go Away!

Bedtime stories I told my Daughter.

By Elizabeth Massaro


The Three Sphincters

As told to Emily circa 2000.


Once upon a time there lived three sphincters who lived in a house at the edge of the forest.  Their  names were Hobo, Bobo, and Mobo and they were exceedingly challenged by everyday life.  They all lived together and had several adventures and they always managed to annoy their neighbor, Mr. Crabs (this was before Spongebob), who lived across the street.  Here then is one of their “adventures” as I remember it.


Once upon a time there lived three sphincters, Hobo, Bobo, and Mobo, who lived in a house at the edge of the forest.  Usually they just watched television or played video games, but today was different!  Today one of them got an idea.  Usually, it was Hobo  who got all the ideas, as he was the brightest sphincter.


“I’ve got an idea,” said Hobo.  “Let’s go to the moon in a rocket ship.  How hard could that be?”

“I’ve got an idea, too,” said Bobo.  “Let’s go to the moon!”

“Moon, moon, moon,” said Mobo.  “What’s an idea?”


So, as the three sphincters were somewhat in agreement about this idea, they proceeded to contemplate what device they would use to rocket themselves into outer space.


“We need a rocket,” said Hobo . “Something sturdy, yet light weight, that would be large enough to hold all three of us.


“We need a rocket, said Bobo.  “Something that will go zoom! To the moon!”


“Zoom, zoom to the moon moon!” said Mobo.  “What’s a rocket?”


“Let’s look around outside,” said Hobo.  “Maybe we can find something we can use!”

“Let’s go outside and look around,” said Bobo. “We need a zoom.”


Mobo, who hadn’t been listening, didn’t say anything.


The three of them were looking outside, when across the street they noticed that Mr. Crabs, their usually unfriendly neighbor, had placed three metal tube-like things with handles and lids near his garage door.  (Crabs wasn’t really his name, in reality it was Jones, but the sphincters called him Crabs because of his personality.)

Hobo was over-joyed. 

“Hey,these tube things would make a great rocket ship to the moon,” said Hobo.

“Wow, let’s make a moon rocket out of these tubed things,” said Bobo.

“Uba-duba tubas,” said Mobo. Then, after a long contemplative pause he said, “what’s a moon?”


Hobo decided that they should “borrow” Mr. Crab’s tubes and so each sphincter proceeded to take a trash can, for that is in reality what the tubes were. 

Once in their own yard, the three of them began discussing the details of creating their rocket. 

“We can cut the bottoms out and push the tubes together to make one long rocket ship tube,” said Hobo.
”Let’s make one long tube and use it as a rocket,” said Bobo.

“What’s a tube?” said Mobo.

The cans were heavy because the were full.  Hobo only wanted the cans and he didn’t want to be a bad neighbor. 

“We need the tubes, but we don’t need what’s in them,” said Hobo.  “Let’s be good neighbors and return the stuff inside these cans to Mr. Crabs.


Hobo opened one of the heavy cans, and discovered that it was filled with what looked like garbage.  The smells that emitted from said can were pungent and putrid owing partially to the fact that it had been a warm week, and tomorrow was trash day, and partially to the fact that Mr. Crabs did not believe in recycling.


“Whatever Crabs was keeping in these cans has gone bad,” observed Hobo. “This stuff smells.”

“This is some smelly stuff,” said Bobo in agreement.

“P- U,” said Mobo.  “What’s that stank?”


“Oh, well. We should still take it back to him, as he may want it,” said Hobo.  “One man’s meat is another man’s poison,” I always say.  (He didn’t always say it, but he had heard someone else saying they always said it, the other day when someone saw him pick up and dine on a discarded, half-eaten roast beef sandwich in the park.  At the time he didn’t understand the comment.  But he thought it currently, curiously appropriate.)


“We should give him his stinky poison back,” said Bobo.  “And get some meat. I’m hungry.”

“Meaty, meat meat,” said Mobo.  “I want some meaty meat.”


So the three of them emptied the cans and proceeded to carry the seeping, smelly garbage back across the street to their neighbor’s front yard.  Lucky for them, Mr. Crabs was at work during the day and totally oblivious to what was happening at his home. 


After returning their neighbor’s "property," the three sphincters resumed their endeavors to rocket to the moon.  Hobo decided that they needed to cut the bottoms out of two of the tubes, so they did.  Then they stacked all three tubes together and made one large tube.  They found some paint in the garage and painted their rocket white.  Then they put U.S.A. on the side in big black letters.  Hobo concluded that U.S.A. was on every rocket he’d ever seen on T.V., so it must be important.


“What’s U.S.A?” asked Mobo.

“U.S.A. is an abbreviation,”  said Hobo.  “Every letter stands for a word.  Like Under Sea Adventure.”

“But we aren’t going under sea,” said Bobo. “We’re going in outer space. So shouldn’t it say  O.S.A. For Outter Space Adeventure?”

“I think the U stands for Unidentified,” said Hobo. “Like in U.F.O.”

After a lengthy discourse about what the abbreviation could possibly stand for, Hobo decided that it didn’t matter, if they didn’t know what it stood for, he was sure it was on every rocket he’d ever seen. 

“After all,” he reasoned. “It’s for the aliens anyway.”


After painting their new rocket they stood it up.  They gave it a pointy lid, that they made out of aluminum foil and decided that it was ready to man.  To gain access to their new rocket they opened a free-standing ladder next to it, and one by one they climbed up the ladder and then down into the tube.  The cans still smelled pretty bad and weren’t particularly sanitary or comfortable.  The first one in was Mobo, who went to the bottom of the tube, then Bobo, and finally Hobo, who secured the rocket’s lid.


“All systems go,” said Hobo.

“All systems go,” said Bobo.

“All stinky go,” said Mobo who began fidgeting at the bottom of the rocket.  He was the most uncomfortable because both of the other sphincters were sitting on his shoulders.  As Mobo figited the unstable thing fell over and crashed with a large thud.

“Wow, that didn’t take as long as I thought it would,” said Hobo. "We must have been moving at the speed of light. I really hate those crash landings, though.”

He opened the hatch and crawled out of the rocket, Bobo and Mobo cautiously followed him out.


“This place looks a lot like home,” said Bobo.

“That’s because we must have entered some parallel universe on the moon,” said Hobo.  “I heard about these, but I never thought I’d see one.” 


In the meantime, Mr. Crabs was returning home from a long and tedious work day to discover his trash cans had been stolen and his garbage unceremoniously dumped on his expensively landscaped lawn.  He was furious and he believed he knew exactly who was responsible for the mess.


“Those three idiots are up to something again,” said Mr. Crabs.  “I just know it. Why’d they have to put a half-way house right across the street from me?”  He grumbled and snorted and huffed and puffed his way across the street to see what had happened to his trash cans.


The three sphincters were taking samples of the parallel universe and exploring its fauna when Mr. Crabs arrived. 

“Hey look,” said Hobo.  “It’s parallel universe Mr. Crabs.”

“What have you three clowns done with my trash cans,” said Mr. Crabs. "It's obvious you took them,  the three of you smell like crap."

“We didn't take anything from you,” said Hobo.  “We just met you, now.  Allow me to introduce myself.”

This made Mr. Crabs even more upset.  “Haven’t I repeatedly told the three of you to stay away from my house? You took my trash cans ..." As he said this he noticed the three mangled cans splattered with white paint and the letters U.S.A. sprawled across the yard. 

"That's impossible, we’ve never been to your house,” insisted Hobo.  "You have us confused with someone else."

“We’re from outer space,” said Bobo.

"That's right," said Hobo. "We're from a parallel universe."

“Zoom! Zoom!” said Mobo.


“AHHHHHHH!!!!!” said Mr. Crabs. And he ran back across the street.


The three sphincters didn’t think it was safe to re-launch their rocket, because it had split apart and become dented from their previous crash landing, So they decided to stay in the parallel universe, since everything was the same.  They reasoned that their parallel selves were probably living in their old universe, as they probably decided to build a rocket at the same time and had the same adventure.


Mr. Crabs never got his trash cans back.  He bought new cans that he now keeps locked in his shed.


The End.


Moral:  Don’t live near a half-way house, if you can help it.  And lock up your trash cans, there’s a lot of nuts out there.



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