DAILY MONSTER 200 (of 200)

Good morning. How are you? Thank you for being here for the Grand Finale of the Daily Monsters. 200 Monsters! Who would've thunk it? Thank you so much for sticking with the creatures all this time, and for all your amazing stories! You are the best!

And you're not running out the clock, either!
Just take a look at yesterday's mind-boggling stories:

And now... drum roll, please...
I give you Monster 200:

If you're reading this on my Amazon blog, please click here to see the video.

Monster 200 speaks for itself. It doesn't need my help anymore.
But if you're so inclined, I'd love to hear your ideas on where this one is headed.
I can't wait to hear what you think! If you're up for one more tale, please...

So there you have it. The last of the Daily Monsters.
Thank you for all your great, great stories, for all
the kind and lovely e-mails and drawings. None of this
would've happened without your brilliant energy!

You're the best!

And even though the Daily Monsters are now complete, you haven't seen the last creature from me. New things are brewing and after a little hiatus the monsters will be back in a new format. Until then, I'll get back to posting your excellent Open Source Monsters, and showing you a few fun bits and bobs from my other job. In other words: The Daily Monsters are dead, long live the Daily Monsters.

Thank you again for being here,
and for giving me the best reason to draw.
344 LOVES YOU

Comments

[Andu]

"It is done, huh?"

The black bird pulled its high-heels off by using his impressive, colorful beak. After he was contented with the loud, reverberating sound they made on the wodden floor, he sat down on the human's shoulder. In front of him were two hundred pictures of monsters. Some he knew, some he didn't and sometimes he was sure that this monster did not exist at all.

"You know, it would have been easier to come into our world and make photos of us.", the bird said, while poking the glasses of the man. He did not answer. The bird shrugged and looked at all those monsters on his table. His stare seemed to go right into the core of those two-hundred sheets of paper.

Suddenly, he noticed a small movement. No, not one, but two, three, tens, one hundred and ninety-nine movements. The monsters did the movements thes were drawn in. The bird-like monster smirked. That was his work.

A thump made him look up from marveling his work. The human's had had fallen on the desk; he was asleep. The moving monsters looked at him before ceasing to exist as living, breathing creatures, returning to their drawn state. The bird shrugged, shaking its feathers. The black color came off to be replaced with fiery red and yellow colours.

Then, the phoenix flew out of the open window into the starry sky.

[b13]

With beak of yellow and chin of blue,
far past one hundred this monster made two.
It's wings did flutter,
It's boots did lift,
And off flew the gagglehoeney to a future quite swift.

[Maria]

He's a little sad and a little glad. Getting ready for his next journey and not quite sure what shoes to pack so he goes for the obvious choice. He knows he is beautiful but he is alone so off he goes to join the company of the other 199 monsters looking for The One.

[Timothy O'Donnell]

By 1970 a backlash against supersweet cereals began, starting with congressional hearings and leading to the American Dental Association condemning Kellogg's Froot Loops as "no better than candy". In 1978 sales of the cereal fell 5%, the first such drop since they were introduced in the 1950s.

As sales continued to plummet in the early 80s, beloved mascot Toucan Sam began a parallel descent into madness and depression. Abandoning grooming altogether, Sam's colorful bill eventually lost its wide spectrum of hues, and his once blue plummage, course and matted from a complete lack of preening, is now an inky black.

Confirmed sightings of Sam today are rare; rumors persist, however, that he can be seen hovering around the old Studio 54 building. Perhaps the beleaguered toucan is reliving his 70s glory days, in which parents and dentists smiled upon him, and his nights were spent on the dancefloor, searching for the perfect beat.

[the little fluffy cat]

This is the very rare and beautiful idea-monster, a species of birdmonster.

Idea-monsters are born on a regular basis, but often fail to survive because of habitat destruction. When born in the right place, and cared for by someone who appreciates it, an idea-monster will not only survive, but thrive.

It takes patience to raise an idea-monster. They grow in an unbalanced fashion—their bodies are smaller than their beaks, as in this example—and their tales (ha) grow long, to counterbalance. Their shoes acknowledge the fact that they must return to the ground periodically, but testify that reality need not kill beauty or fantasy—that they can all co-exist in joy.

Joy is what makes idea-monsters fly.

[Brianna]

He's perfect.

[the little fluffy kitten]

Toucan Sam’s cousin, Mark, walked happily into town, flapping his wings as if something amazing had just happened. As the other little birds looked up from their work, they smiled. Mark always installed happiness in them. But this time, it was a little different. This time, Mark said that he was going to leave, but he was going to come back soon. Just the thought of him coming back was enough to make them happy again.

[Inanna]

It's Sister Two Hunnert, looking quite smug with herself for outlasting her brothers One Hunnert and a Hunnert Fifty.

For one thing, neither of those guys could begin to balance on those stilettos. And look how graceful she is. A terrific fem rep of the other 199. Almost makes me teary. But Sr. TH is smiling, as am I.

[nancy pene]

....birds of fuzzy feathers will all come together with the innocence of artistic tradition..a little tap dance is in order before this sentry roadrunner takes over the flight to watch who will be doing those monster deeds...happy landing little buddy...

[alex]

GENIUS

tranny monster is the lovechild of chris crocker and God. he loves to wear baby blue platform boots and hates having his wings clipped. off he flys!

[alex]

did I say flys? I meant flies. Off he flies, to eat some flys.

[Sarah S. Chicken]

Bob flew off to go on a hard-earned vacation to Bermuda. He had his platform shoes on in case of flooding. He said a fond farewell to his friends and family, thanked his supporters, and sadly walked onto the airplane.

[jak]

It was a snug little nest, situated in a hole in the lintel above a health food store. Constructed from scraps of old tie-dyed t-shirts, strips of discarded bell-bottoms, strands of aging rockers’ hair extensions and tuck-pointed with biodegradable non-plastic wrap from vegan sandwiches, it was a humble but sturdy home for the monster bird and her one little egg.

Momma Bird had been incubating her little treasure since mid-January, and on April first, after much anticipation and many mighty internal peckings – her baby was born. Making his entrance like the proverbial lion, she named him Lionel.

“He’s his father’s son,” Momma Bird cooed, to anyone who would listen. “He’s royalty, you know.”

Everyone nodded, but rolled their eyes when her back was turned. Yeah, like a lowly aging peasant Monster bird (who should have given up on eggs years ago) would be the mother of the Anticipated One.

By May, Lionel was ready to fly. He wriggled into his best bell-bottoms, pulled on the magnificent sky blue heels that Momma had ordered (just for this day) and Lionel spread his wings – giving several tentative flaps. The last one lifted him inches off the nest.

Momma Bird pulled a square of tie-dye from the nest and rubbed Lionel’s yellow beak until it shown like fine gold.

Every monster in the neighborhood – the feathered, the furred and the fanged –had heard that young Lionel was due for take-off and they crowded onto the roof of the store. It was a day to be remembered by monster and customers alike. Well, those customers who bothered to look up – or – those who were unfortunate enough to be recipients of, ahem…ill-timed droppings.

“All right, Son. This is it. I am so proud of you.” She pecked his cheek, whispering, “I love you, Li.” Then, Momma Bird tugged away the scarf she’d always kept wrapped around his neck. ("Protection from a chill," she'd say.)

The onlookers gasped! His neck feathers… royal blue… they were The Mark!

Lionel was indeed, heir to the throne – he was the one and only Two Hundredth – the real, dyed-in-the-feather King Bucher Monster Bird.

With a fetching smile, and lilting song… Lionel flapped his wings and rose higher and higher into the sky. Momma Bird wiped a stray tear from her eye…watching as her son became just a tiny speck on the horizon. Next morning when she awoke, she was alone, her bird had flown.

[Dan Ryan]

The lights blinked out, the disco ball lurked like a black hole in the rafters, the music killed mid-song. The last monster left the building.

Only Sammy left now. He missed those cool cats, his fellow jivers, even the real cats with their gassy grins. Now the hard times, baby. The zero times. The brother-can-you-spare-a-monster times. Yeah, they come, and the song stops.

That’s cool. The Head Funkmaster Above, He made winter and sleep and the Big Sleep, that last dance none of us misses. He had a plan behind it. All a free bird like Sammy could do was keep that grin on his beak, move those polyester pants, and kick up his dancing shoes. Feel the disco air in your wings, brother, and fly.

Cuz sometimes the party finds you, and sometimes you find the party.

[Ivy]

There's not much to tell... I'm just going to miss the monsters and as 344 said, The monsters are dead,long live the daily monster!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Aretha]

It had started months earlier. Others of his clan had appeared and then taken off on their new journeys. After 199 or so days of creation, Toshak was fully gestated and sprung into being, completely beaked. He spent little time deciding what shoes to wear, even less on what colour lipstick to apply.

What was next for Toshak? The decision was made. It had taken a long time and had been difficult but Toshak knew what had to be done. With his special skills, there was only one thing to do: he would be technical advisor on the next Iron Man movie.

[Sam B.]

--"Honey...honey, are you alright?"
"Yeah, I...I'm fine, where am I?"
--"You've been in intensive care for the past year and a half. You don't remember the accident?"
"No, i...it's all a blur. I just remember these creatures, hundreds of them, all dancing around me."
--"Oh Carl, I'm so glad you're awake! What else do you remember?"
"The creatures were all pretty nice to me, a few of them moved and a few were pretty still. The last one picked me up with the heals of her giant boots and carried me through the sky. It felt amazing to soar like a bird but she ended up dropping me. I remember falling fast, but I woke up before hitting the ground."
--"Oh my!"
"There was this strange German guy there too, not sure what his deal was though."
--"I can't believe you're amongst the living again!"
"It's nice to be awake, but I'd go back in a heartbeat."

[Aiden A.]

...Will this monster came out of their cave?
200 (simply named 200) could not watch this happening. She raced to the rescue at once. See this monster has a magical power. With her beautiful tail she is able to conjure up any past monsters.
She approached the tall castle. She heard a faint buzzing sound getting closer.
"Hmph, locusts," she snickered,
"Work and shape until it's done,
Give the monster named ONE!" she sang.
The very first monster appeared and attacked the locusts. ( the scene was very similar to the one of monster #5)
As the crazed bird fought the locusts with all its strength, 200 approached the castle. A large troll stood at the entryway.
"Humph, you ain't getting in," said the troll,who looked similar to monster 12.
"hehehe," 200 smiled,"a piece of cake".
"A larged mouthed monster I need for sure(pronounced like shore)
The perfect one is forty-four!"
The large beast of 44 approached the guard. Licking his lips as he went. CHOMP! The troll-being was swallowed whole after one bite. She entered the large castle. The large door squeked as it was opened.
"Urmph! Who goes dere, I'll slice ya an' dice ya I will. Hehehe tis' my job don-cha-know!"
The monster 82, the little betrayer he is, was standing in the middle of the room, razor in hand.
"yum yum yum," he danced. (Don't ask me, he didn't even move his lips, he just danced and out came words.)
"This calls for a favorite of mine,
I need your aid, seventy-nine"
Out of nowhere hopped 79, as delighted and smiley as could be.
"Oooo dis gonna be like takin chocolate from a babe!" sang 82.
He had some work in the opera so he was very experienced.
79, the quickest little critter, hopped arond the room like speedy gonzalas and speed racer mixed with the Tazmanian Devil. 82, who was tied to a razor proof chain, followed him and became all tied up in a knot.
200 went up the large stairs until he reached the tippity toppest. there stood a mass of guards. They were monsters 100, 101, 130, and 147.
"It will take more than one to destroy all of you,
fortunately I have the duo of 172".
Of course the awesome sumo wrestlers of 182 cleaned up this odd bunch quite quickly (they hold quite a few championship titles) and 200 was free to enter the door.
Inside were Jimmy and Theresa tied up with chains. Sarah was sitting right behind them.
"Hahaha," she scoffed, "there is no monster you own that can destroy me!"
"Don't be too sure," 200 said with a grin.
I know no other monster that can butcher
better than stefan bucher!!!"
Stefan Bucher came down into the castle.
"Oh what is he going to do?" laughed Sarah.
"This", said Stefan.
He toke out a giant pencil and erased Sarah with the end.
Jimmy and Theresa gasped.
"WE'RE SAVED,"
Alas, Stefan saved the day and they all lived happily ever after.

Phew that was a long one.
I will miss the dailymonster
GOODBYE!

[Danielle]

Jeremiah was a superstar in the Amazon. He recently set the world record for the longest distance walked by a bird. He walked 443 meters without tripping, stubbing his toes, or bobbing his head! As a prize, a Guinness representative handed him a shoe box of the most impressive platform shoes he's ever seen in his life. He just couldn't help himself, so he promptly slid his feet into the shoes and flew off into the sunset. Next year, he'll be ready to break his record- in his new platform shoes.

[Sue Bebie]

What a wonderful day, today!!!

I'm the real king of monstershoes.
I can jump, I can fly, oh I feel so high!!!
With more than two wings, oh. very good things...
I'm the king of the kings!!!

What a wonderfull day, today!!!

[Terry T.]

He was the first among his kind. His magnificent shoes second only to his incredible beak. While it would appear to the common eye that such a beast could ever fly; much like the bumblebee, he was graceful and quite skilled. He flew over to the Grand Tree and prepared for a very significant event. An expected occasion, but by no means routine. The end of one era would mean the beginning of a new, prosperous time. Many would be afraid as an equal number would fail to hold back their excitement.

He stood tall; the heavy shoes giving his relatively short stature some extra height. He raised his wings and hushed the crowd of onlookers to the ceremony. They complied.

"For many months, years even, we have waited for this moment – though it was unclear as to when it would come. The time has, indeed, arrived for us to shed what we have become accustomed to. The daily routine we've enjoyed and taken for granted for lo these many moons. I feel honored to have been the master to these ceremonies we have held and I trust the next generation will bring us something new and wonderful."

Rustling ensued as the leaves from the other side of the branch parted and revealed that which waited patiently behind them. His beak was extraordinary. His shoes–more magnificent and colorful. The feathers along his tail and wings were that of flames, ready to blaze the trail he was born to lead upon.

"My son, the 200th of your kind, the new beginning to our story — we welcome you as we say goodbye. You hold our future and our history. I was the first of us all and I couldn't be more proud of your place in our community. Fly, my son. Take wing and spread the stories we've collected over the years."

And he did just that. His high-heeled, blue accented boots hung under the shadow of his long, brilliantly orange beak after a few hops lifted him up and into the unknown.

[tom watkins (zebra1700)]

wow. the monsters face looks alot like the 1st monster you ever put on youtube! only its got back a couple of decades because its wearing those funky jeans and the super awesome platform boots. its like its daily monster #1's mother! AMAZING!! its ashame that uve finished now though... its my birthday tomorow and it would have been a wonderfull treat to see another of your monsters. make a montage maybe?? anywhoo.. thanks for 200 days of enjoyment

-zebra1700 :^)

and thanks for wishing me a happy birthday. it would be nice to know when yours is. i could make you a monster cake. only it would have icing on the top and not ink blotches ;P

[cat]

"I’d love to hear your ideas on where this one is headed.”

Well, it’s obvious to me where he’s headed. He’s taken wing to Bangkok. To me.

And with each flap of his wings, he sings his name in Thai.

“Poot pee song roi”

Wings up, “POOT PEE!”
Wings down, “song roi”

“POOT PEE!” … “song roi” … “POOT PEE!” … “song roi” … “POOT PEE!” …

… flying to me.

Note: It’s fair to say my Thai is pretty awful. So really, there could be 200 monsters flying, flying to me.

But, no matter. There’s always a place for more monsters in the breeze-filled, sun-full room ... in the middle of the house.

[Stephanie]

Monster 200 is amazing! He's got that satsified smile on his face because he knows how good he looks!

I'm sorry to see the Monsters go...since I have only recently discovered them.

[simon]

The Yellow-Billed Galloops have been around since the dawning of time. In fact it was often said that it were a flock of Galloops that had placed the sun into the sky on that very first dawn.

Why, they were mentioned in history books the universe over for their prowess in the sky. Faster than the Swift-Tailed Rooties, showing more stamina than the fabled Inexhaustible Deeebees and with beaks of a more dazzling hue than the Yellowish-Billed Tangleweks.

And yet during all of this time, no one had ever heard of such a case as that of Milo Galloop. Frankly, it was plain absurd. That’s what it was. Absurd. Plain and simple.

The Galloops with their illustrious history as birds who flew long and hard but above all high, just couldn’t fathom such a thing. For Milo Galloop had been born with a fear of heights.

Oh the shame and humiliation his parents felt, for they son became the victims of rumour.

‘I blame the mother, she dropped him out of the nest when he was only 3 minutes old.’

‘He gets it form his father you know? Oh yes, I knew him when he was flying with the display team and he was so short-sighted that I don’t think he even if he was in the air or not.’

‘I heard it’s because he’s not a 100% Galloop, if you get my drift? Oh yes, she was quite a one in her day, that one.’

But not one of the rumours was true. The truth, as it so often is was more mundane – Milo had just been born scared of heights. As his egg had cracked open and Milo, all fluffy and wrinkled opened his eyes for the very first time and peering over the top of his nest, just couldn’t believe his eyes – what the hell were his parents thinking putting him 344 metres up in the air with not so much as a safety net to break his fall? What sort of monsters had he been born to? They were obviously quite mad. And when Milo finally learnt the power of speech he was going to tell them as much.

In the meantime he needed to get his feet on something a lot firmer than a loose and frankly rather shoddily woven floor of twigs and leaves and, good god, was that really moss? Heaven preserve me.

When Milo’s parents came back laden down with food for their baby monster they couldn’t believe he wasn’t there.

‘Oh Daddy.’ Shrieked his mother, ‘Is it -! Surely, he hasn’t -!,’ And finally through tears, ‘Our darling Milo. We’ve given birth to a chick- prodigy. He’s flown the nest already.’

‘Now, now Mother. Let’s not be so hasty, but by golly, it looks that way’.

And the two of them danced the Dance of the Flight of Triumph. And planned a flock party.

It was about three weeks, after the flock party that it was drawn to their attention by their sniggering neighbours that exactly 344 metres below them was a new nest made of bark and grass clippings and the remains of an old sneaker and, that their beloved son, Milo was happily walking, yes walking, around a little vegetable patch of his own making.

You can imagine the glee their neighbours had in sharing this information, having hearing for nearly three weeks just how advanced their son, the high-flyer, was and how he was destined for a place in the annuals of Galloop history, and that he would one day probably lead the flock to new heights.

And just how crest fallen his parents felt.

It never occurred to Milo’s parents to ask how he had made his way down the tree, all 344 metres, to the ground, so angry were they. But, neither threat, nor any amount of pleading would convince Milo that his life would be better lived back in the family nest.

‘Look, Mum, Dad.’ For, in those three weeks, he had not only learnt the art of gardening, Cordon Bleu Vegetarian cooking, but also the ability to talk. ‘I’ve got to be honest with you, I don’t rate your parenting skills, in fact, from the 12 minutes I experienced in your care, I’d have to say you’re pretty damn clueless as to the best way to look after your off-spring. I mean what the hell were you two thinking of putting me so high up there, I could have fallen out for a start. Or worse.’

‘But you’re a Galloop, son. You can fly.’ Explained his mother.

‘Yeah and so can pigs. Now, I love you both folks, but you’re clueless and obviously witless, if that’s the best line you can come up with. So, let me put this as plainly as I can. I. Will. Not. Live. In. The. Sky. It is scary and dangerous and there’s nowhere for me to grow vegetables?

And that was that.

Well, almost.

During one of their weekly dinners together his parents mentioned to him that it was now a year since he’d made his home on the ground and so they had a special birthday present for him. A pair of shoes. A token, they said, to show that they accepted his life choice.

Milo couldn’t have been happier. He put them on immediately and strutted around in his new presents pleased as pleased can be, so pleased in fact that he almost forgot to get his Aubergine Terrine out of the oven before it burnt.

But the present wasn’t so innocent, my friends, for his parents had hatched a devious plan. For every year they offered to get his birthday shoes re-soled and heeled. And every year they added another layer of thick sole. Soon, in around 2374 years time they had estimated, he would once more be back in the family nest.

And that, is the truth about Milo Galloop, Daily Monster Number 200.