The History Of Toomba

In the Beginning

Once upon a time there were four young Toombas who lived in Toledo. There was Svenny, Inge, Quasley, and Jimb, although some called him Tim. They were fine, strapping young men and worked hard every day.

One day they decided to go skiing. They packed up all their gear and stuffed it into Inge's 1987 Ford Escort for the long trek north to the hinterlands of Michigan. Crystal Mountain in Thompsonville was their destination. There lay the promise of virgin snow (and virgin women) for the young Toombas to conquer.

But alas, when they arrived at the picturesque Mountain of Crystals, there was not much snow. "What shall we do?" cried Inge. Quasley calmed the young lad, saying, "Don't fret, young Inge. We've brought along a goodly portion of grog to while away the hours when we're done skiing."

"Cool," said Inge. "Let's drink."

So the four Toombas spent three enjoyable days frolicking in the flakes, checking out the babes, and drinking the grog. And there was much rejoicing.

The Second Year

The second trip to Crystal Mountain saw the addition of two new Toombas. Tweety (so named because of his unusually colored ski boots) and the patriarch, Pappy, joined the four original Toombas. Pappy and Tweety, having heard fantastic tales of drunkenness, debauchery, and a little skiing, could not resist the siren call of the Mountain and the promise of fresh powder.

But it rained.

And the fog was so thick that the Toombas couldn't see the slopes. This was of great concern to the Toombas because only two of the slopes had any snow on them at all. And Jim (although some called him Tim) suffered a terrible fall from the dizzying heights of the lift chair and hurt his knee.

"What shall we do?" cried Inge. Pappy calmed the young lad, saying, "Don't fret, young Inge. We've brought along a goodly portion of grog to while away the hours when we're done skiing."

"Cool," said Inge. "Let's drink."

So the six Toombas spent three enjoyable days frolicking in the fog, checking out the babes, and drinking the grog. And there was much rejoicing .

Third Time's the Charm

"OK, so the skiing sucked the first two years," said Inge one day when the Toombas were planning their third trip. "It can only get better, right?"

"RIGHT!" yelled the other Toombas, and the third trip was planned.

And the tales of adventure the Toombas brought back from previous years became known far and wide, and four more Toombas joined the trip. 10 Toombas would make the trek to the Great White North this year. And it was good.

There was snow and grog and luscious babes. And there was skiing and drinking and lusting after the babes, although Toombas, being Toombas, didn't score too well with the babes. So mostly there was skiing and drinking.

And there was Tweety, who made the foolish mistake of trying to keep up with Dave, and became violently ill.

And there was Quasley, whose new ski boots made his toes very unhappy. But the skiing was better. So there was much rejoicing.

But then, disaster struck. When it came time to settle the bill with The Owners of The Mountain, the Toombas, having little experience in the world of high finance, got screwed on the bill.

"Those sonofabitches!" the Toombas cried. "We'll never come back to this god-forsaken, ice-covered bump again!" Epithets and generally nasty comments were hurled in the direction of The Owners of The Mountain as the Toombas sped out of sight, never to return.

The journey continues...