hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay wel i am kontinyooing my eksplorayshun of this misteeryus deezerted iland owt in the middel of the pasifik oshun the more i see of this iland the more it seems as if the aynchent okkyoopants of this iland ar the wuns wot setteld the maynland chek it owt!!!
hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay wel i seem to be stranded on a desert iland with just me myself and i and that weerd seegull wot talks a lot!!! i am putting this messadj in a bottel in the hope that sumday sumwun wil find it and discuver wot happend to me!!!
Having successfully set Spiny Norman on his way to a new career as a Top Gun pilot, I have returned to my regular life as a distinguished professor of archeology at the university. I had planned to resume my work of encouraging young minds to think and ask questions, but little did I know that I would soon be embroiled in a vast and dark conspiracy the likes of which the world had never seen before …
Our meerkat guide has proven an invaluable resource in our quest to locate the underground kingdom of the gophers. Now, following his lead, our goal is in reach; the Kingdom of the Gophers lies just ahead. What secrets will be revealed when we enter this fabled realm? Very soon, all will be revealed!
Now that I have finally returned to the Archeology Department after my long sojourn in deep space, I am at last able to return to my primary mission of ferreting out ancient secrets and uncovering hidden civilizations. My first task upon my return is to resume my long-idle quest to find the subterranean kingdom of the gophers, accompanied by my new graduate student assistant, a young tough named, appropriately enough, Mutt.
The helicopter flight from Skull Island to my ultimate destination has been long and exhausting, the only rest period being a layover in Japan to drop off Young Kong in Tokyo. It turns out that my kidnappers in the black airships had no interest in Young Kong at all; they were only after the Kong of the Gods itself. And, as it turns out, me.
It has been three weeks since I was taken as a pet by the monstrous ape that rules Skull Island. Sometimes I despair of ever escaping my captivity, recovering the Giant Kong, and getting off this desolate rock; but I am Dennis the Vizsla, and I never give up. I merely have to bide my time, and wait for the right opportunity.
After my failure to secure the Giant Kong, I learned that it had been placed on a tramp steamer bound for a mysterious island in the South Pacific. I quickly booked my own passage on another vessel that was following the same path, only to find myself confronting my greatest challenge yet on a desolate jungle island far, far away.
I failed to retrieve the Giant Kong from the Kraken before he passed it to the notorious Piranha Brothers. Now I’ve learned that the Piranha Brothers have fenced it to some mobsters in order to keep it away from the fearsome hedgehog Spiny Norman. I cannot let this archaeological treasure languish forever in some kingpin’s lair; it belongs to the world, not the underworld. And so, I must go undercover.
When word came in to the department about the Giant Kong of the Gods, they sent me, Dennis the Vizsla, their most fearless archaeologist, to retrieve it. But I was too late; the Giant Kong was gone, stolen by the evil Garbage Men. I don’t know where they took it. All I know is that I have to get it back.
Now that I have gone beyond the Lost Backyard through Ivy Pass, I am beyond all reach of help. There are no food dishes here, no water bowls, no pig ears, no Nylabones. If I am to find the Lost Kong and return to civilization alive, all I can rely on are my own wits, here in the Kingdom of the Myoporum.
Now that I have learned that the Lost Kong can be found somewhere beyond the Side Walk, I know what I must do to find it. I must explore that vast savannah where stuffies go to die, where monstrous creatures burrow beneath the surface and great birds of prey soar high on thermals and huge flocks of crows blot out the sun. I must explore … the Lost Backyard.
Rumor has it they used to worship red Kongs around here. You know, the kind that look like insulators from power lines or the rubber bump-stop from an old Volkswagen. But one by one, the Kongs disappeared. The superstitious say that the gods took them back up to Paradise; others, that the Kongs never existed at all except in the minds of the faithful. Me? I think there must be some truth behind the legends. And I aim to find out what it is.