The following are the only known recorded history to survive Lidsville. No one knows their origin, but intelligent individuals know not to ask.


(An entry from Mark’s Journal)


Day 9


Today Colonel Poom came charging into town screaming at the top of his lungs about some ancient map he discovered while cleaning his house. He claims the map was retrieved from the “newbie newbie tribe” and that the map allegedly leads to a golden ladder in the sky. I’m pretty sure that if such a ladder exists, we’d probably be able to see it from anywhere in Lidsville, and the rest of his story makes even less sense, but after spending over a week in this horrible place, I’ll take any opportunity I can to get out of here.


I managed to convince Poom to take us to the location on the map, but he insisted that we gather supplies in his unnecessarily obtuse safari idioms. Weenie wanted us to leave right away, claiming that gathering supplies would “take too long, because we’re in a hurry”. Screw you, Weenie, not all of us can survive on literally nothing for hundreds of years, and I certainly don’t plan on dying in this living nightmare.


We followed Poom for a while, until I was worried he had gotten us lost. He took out the map to verify out route, but as he did he said the Newbie Newbie tribe was notoriously unreliable and that the map might be complete balderdash.


Gee, thanks. Thanks for leading us through the desert via the most circuitous path possible to lead us all on a wild goose chase!


No. No, I can’t be negative. As dumb as it is, this map just has to be authentic…it’s just go to! I don’t want to think about the alternative…


Leave it to a hat person to completely fail at the one role he was born to perform: not only had Poom gotten us lost, but he completely failed to notice that we were being followed and even surrounded by Hoodoo’s bad hats! I warned them that I learned karate at summer camp, hoping that these monsters who didn’t believe in Earth with find my strange words threatening.


Of course, then I remembered that despite their hideous features all hat people have a common weakness: general incompetence.


Though for all we know this is some strange, uncomfortable ritual for raising one's spirits after a disappointment in hat culture.

The degree of incompetence with which Hoodoo's minions are described seems to transcend talent and reach all the way to gift.

I stomped on each of the Bad Hats’ feet, giving us enough time to escape. Plenty of time, in fact. I glanced over my shoulder as we ran and saw that they had managed to collapse into a giant heap of hats that was so pathetic it had to be deliberate.


As I said, they have a common weakness.


We continued on our path and…I swear I heard the strangest thing. At one point I’m sure Colonel Poom muttered to himself something about a tax never being around when you need one. Sure it’s a common enough joke…on Earth! The only vehicles I’ve seen in this dreadful place are the Hatamaran and that unsettling motorcycle. Why would a hat person know what a taxi was? They don’t believe in a world outside Lidsville.


I must be imagining things. All the stress from Hoodoo.


Right, it wasn’t too long before Hoodoo himself began to chase us in the Hatamaran. We took cover in a nearby forest and lost him. I almost wish we hadn’t, for this was no ordinary forest, it was the most horrid forest imaginable. It was…the hair forest!


The trees of the hair forest have creepy, lifeless faces carved in their trunks, like horrible, hostile masks. Making matters even more nauseating, they don’t have leaves or palms or any ordinary type of foliage, they’re crowned with long, flowing human hair.


This place will never cease to terrify me.


Despite Poom’s warnings, we had managed to navigate much of the forest without incident, but as soon as I’d finally grown complacent and almost comfortable in that evil place, the trees revealed one last horrifying secret: they could move.


I feel like fire or hedge clippers would have been at least as effective.

For poor Mark's sake I'm glad that the hair spray kept the hair trees at bay, but they seem to grab people with their branches, not their hair. I wonder why they're so susceptible to the hair spray.

The trees grabbed me and Poom, leaving only Weenie to save us…it goes without saying the situation seemed essentially hopeless. Miraculously, though, Weenie’s moronic idea of fending off the trees with hair spray inexplicably worked! We escape the forest as quick as we could, and continued to the spot marked on the Newbie Newbie map.


Poom led us to the top of a mountain, from which we should be able to see the golden ladder. As I tried to spot it, though, Weenie tried to get my attention with another inane tangent.


“Look Master, you can almost see Downtown Lidsville from here!”


I humored him, knowing that we would not drop the issue if I didn’t I turned my telescope towards the town.


“You sure can, I can even see the hat people.”


It's incredible that in the time it took Mark and the others to return to Lidsville, that Big Daddy Hoodoo had caused no damage at all.

A curious account indeed! How does one manage not to see a Godzilla-sized creature rampaging through the town, yet make out its buildings and inhabitants perfectly?

Then another strange thing happened. You know how when you read something and the letters are scrambled your brain can sometimes read the word it’s supposed to be because your brain WANTS the letters to spell a word? Well I think my brain WANTED to see all the hat people crushed, because I managed to completely ignore a 50 foot tall Hoodoo rampaging through the city (a sight my brain probably didn’t want to acknowledge).


“Hey what’s going on?” I asked rhetorically as I finally began processing the scene, “It looks like a giant’s chasing ‘em!”


Weenie seemed even more intent on getting to Earth than I did, but I could clearly see that there was no ladder, and as horrible as living with the hat people was, it still had to be better than tossing my hat in the ring with Hoodoo’s gang…damn it!


It’s strange though, this hulking Hoodoo double had ample time to destroy the town and the hats in it before we arrived, but he only managed to destroy one statue. It even made a very deliberate show of not killing Weenie when it had the chance. I wonder why that was…


Anyway I snatched Chief Sitting Duck’s bow and arrow, knowing that he was likely to miss a giant 4 times the size of any building in town and punctured the beast…or should I say balloon?


It turned out that the giant Hoodoo had simply been a large balloon all along, even though it was incredibly articulate, and had an appearance completely unlike a balloon in every way. I’m not sure why a giant balloon monster even seemed like a good idea, in theory it may not have had the mass to crush anything, attempting to do so could have been enough to puncture and destroy it.


Note to self: do not overestimate Hoodoo.


One also wonders why a wizard couldn't simply control such a golem with his magical powers.

Curious, I see no reason why Hoodoo would have to operate his contraption in his underwear, perhaps he's just a pervert.

My self destructive instincts, which are definitely heightened by this backdrop of terror, kicked in as Hoodoo revealed himself from inside the deflated balloon. On some level I surely hoped the powerful, evil wizard would destroy me, because I taunted him for being in his underwear and lead the whole town in spiteful laughter.


(Un)fortunately, he merely ran off back to his hat home.


The hats expressed condolences at my failure to escape. I tried to put on a brave face as I choked back some tears and said maybe I’d have better luck next time I try. I hope I’m not just kidding myself.



(Included in our limited archives is a relevant excerpt From Raunchy Rabbit’s Mission Report)


Mission Report


Author: Raunchy Rabbit


Mission: Operation Dirty Pool/Big Daddy Hoodoo


Mission Outline: Operation Dirty Pool was another of the boss’ clever names for just getting the bad hats to catch someone.


Big Daddy Hoodoo was the boss’ plan to go to Downtown Lidsville and to crush all the hat people for not paying their taxes.


Notes:  I might as well get this over with, Hoodoo’s been very insistent that I make a note of his schemes ever since that Mark brat showed up. He wants to “archive his awesome achievements” and “monitor his minor mishaps”. I’ve been working for this blowhard for as long as I can remember, so I know him well enough to know he won’t ever read these…even if he does I’ll have to read them for him.


Still, I don’t like to argue with an evil wizard.


Here is Hoodoo's magical "zapper" in action, allowing him to launch destructive magic from his fingertips. It could probably destroy a human, but the gradual abuse from their master has made Hoodoo's minions resiliant.

It seems even Hoodoo's minions aren't safe from his wrath. Is there truly no safe place in all of Lidsville!?

Of course if Hoodoo had to work by himself, he’d be even less good at his job. He can’t even figure out when Mark is trying to leave with his genie without my help. And what do I get for my service? A zap to my sorry cotton tail!


And the first thing he does once he knows Mark’s escaping is to try and get someone else to catch him: the bad hats. He calls them on the stupid Hot Hatline, which he NEVER remembers that he told me to heat to an irresponsible temperature for the sake of a bad joke.


He declares that there is a “meanie alert” and that Mr. Big should use “Operation Dirty Pool”. Of course none of that means anything, the boss just likes to hear himself talk, but the bad hats have been around for a while themselves and know that they should pretty much always try to catch someone leaving the safety of Downtown Lidsville.


Since the bad hats couldn’t catch him last time, I don’t know why Hoodoo thought they could now. He was wrong though, and decided to go zap Mark for himself. His chase lead Mark into the hair forest so Hoodoo, like a lazy bum, just assumes he’s dead and starts planning revenge against the “good hats”.


He shouts that there will be haberdashery homicide and plans to crush the hats since it’s “the worst thing you can do to a hat”. At least it makes more sense than the time he wanted to destroy them with the weather bureau…


Sadly his big ego was deflated just like the balloon he modeled after himself. Maybe he should make his giant crushing machine out something more durable than rubber and hot air next time, but hot air is his specialty.



Memorable Quotes: Yes, Hoodoo loves to revel in his terrible puns and jokes, and asks me to write down some exchanges with each mission.


Mr. Big: We can’t stop! If we let them punks get away, Hoodoo’s going to rub us out!

Hoodoo: Shall I start rubbing?

Mr. Big: Hoodoo!

Hoodoo: You were expecting perhaps Mary Poppins?


(…whoever “Mary Poppins” is, he’s probably better than Hoodoo.)


Hoodoo: What is the worst thing you can do to a hat? CRUSH IT!


Hoodoo (controlling Big Daddy): Hi there! Big Daddy Hoodoo’s the name and stomping is my game!


Hoodoo: I want my mommy, I want my mommy Hoodoo!


(Heh heh, that last one was just for me.)