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Author
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Topic: Tapper getting his own series?
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
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posted 04-10-2025 11:17 AM
I've been thinking that it's time to give my EMPATH: The Luckiest Smurf supporting character Tapper Smurf his own series. He's outgrown his original role in the EMPATH series. The stories will still be set in the EMPATH universe, only Empath won't be the focus character if he even appears in stories at all.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
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posted 04-10-2025 11:39 AM
Just for fun, I had ChatGPT create its own version of Tapper, and here's the result:
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
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posted 04-10-2025 12:20 PM
Same image, but his hat now a soda jerk hat.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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BRAINY (GOOD)
Baby Smurf
Member # 9319
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posted 04-10-2025 09:55 PM
That's funny, I thought i saw you in Pinterest.
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ME AND SMURF
Posts: 6 | From: USA | Registered: Apr 2025
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BRAINY (GOOD)
Baby Smurf
Member # 9319
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posted 04-10-2025 10:07 PM
I like the first version of the Tapper better
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ME AND SMURF
Posts: 6 | From: USA | Registered: Apr 2025
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Giggle Smurf 13
Collector Smurf
Member # 8919
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posted 04-11-2025 01:18 AM
yea i like that one
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what the frickity frick-
Posts: 365 | From: Empire smurfs' village | Registered: Feb 2024
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Smurfy1For2
Blue Believer
Member # 1224
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posted 04-11-2025 06:50 AM
Tapper looks amazing!!
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u wished u rocked as i
Posts: 1958 | From: Fairfield, VA | Registered: Nov 2005
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Squeaky Smurf
Hering Smurf
Member # 2416
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posted 04-11-2025 03:07 PM
I agree with Smurfy, I also liked the first Tapper better. ![[Wild Smurf]](graemlins/Wild_Smurf.gif)
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Keep on always smurfin'!!
Posts: 7480 | From: Rio de Janeiro, Brazil | Registered: Jul 2008
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
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posted 04-12-2025 03:52 AM
Okay, well, I added a title for my new series poster.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
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posted 04-13-2025 01:31 AM
Here's a Tapper mini-story created by ChatGPT:
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"Tapper Smurf and the Missing Mug"
In the heart of Smurf Village, just past the bakery and across from Handy Smurf’s workshop, sat the coziest spot of all: Tapper’s Tavern. It wasn’t big, but it was always warm, always bustling, and always smelled like root beer and roasted hazelnuts.
Tapper Smurf, wearing his tidy soda jerk hat with a lucky four-leaf clover tucked in the side, was the proud owner and bartender. He had a laugh that could lift your spirits and a root beer recipe that no one—not even Brainy—could figure out. Every evening, Smurfs from all corners of the village would gather there to share stories, sip frothy mugs of Tapper’s brew, and unwind after a long day of smurfing.
But one morning, Tapper woke up to a surprise: his favorite mug—the one Papa Smurf gave him on the tavern’s opening day—was missing.
“Smurf and stars!” Tapper cried, scanning the shelves. “Someone’s made off with my lucky mug!”
He checked the bar, the washbasin, even under the jukebox. Nothing. He questioned every Smurf who’d been there the night before: Hefty, who swore he only drank from his protein shaker; Jokey, who suggested maybe the mug exploded; and Clumsy, who just tripped over a stool and said, “Oops.”
Determined, Tapper followed a trail of fizzy footprints into the woods. Deeper and deeper he wandered, until he found... a squirrel. Not just any squirrel—this one was wearing a bottle cap as a helmet and clutching Tapper’s mug like it was a golden acorn.
“Now, friend,” Tapper said gently, “I see the appeal, but that mug’s got stories in it.”
The squirrel chittered, clearly reluctant.
So Tapper struck a deal. He pulled out a smaller mug from his satchel, filled it with his famous root beer, and slid it across the mossy stump like a true barkeep.
The squirrel sniffed, took a sip, and instantly began doing backflips. Tapper chuckled. “Told ya.”
He returned to the tavern a hero, mug in hand, just in time for happy hour. The Smurfs cheered, the drinks flowed, and Tapper—ever the gracious host—raised his mug high and said, “To old friends, new flavors, and never underestimating squirrels!”
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
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posted 04-13-2025 01:32 AM
Another ChatGPT-generated Tapper story:
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"Tapper Smurf and the Midnight Mix-Up"
It was a quiet night in Smurf Village. The stars blinked overhead, and most Smurfs were fast asleep, dreaming of mushroom pie and smurfberries. All except Tapper Smurf, who was still wiping down the counter of Tapper’s Tavern, humming an old Smurfish lullaby.
Just as he was about to turn off the lights, a frantic knock echoed on the wooden door.
Knock knock knock!
Tapper opened it to find none other than Chef Smurf, his tall hat drooping and his apron dusted with flour.
“Tapper! I need your help! It’s an emergency!”
Tapper blinked. “Did your soufflé collapse again?”
“No! Worse!” Chef wailed. “I was preparing a surprise midnight snack for the village—Smurfberry Soufflé with a root beer reduction—but I accidentally used sour root beer instead of sweet! I need your best batch, and fast!”
Tapper scratched his chin. “Well, I was saving my ‘Golden Barrel Reserve’ for the Smurfiversary, but... desperate times!”
He hurried to the back, unlocked a small glowing cabinet, and pulled out a wooden keg with gold leaf lettering. It shimmered like morning dew.
Together, the two Smurfs rushed to Chef’s kitchen, mixing, whipping, folding, and flambéing until the kitchen looked like a delicious disaster zone.
As the soufflé rose perfectly in the oven, Chef gave Tapper a grateful smile. “You really saved the smurf, Tapper.”
Tapper chuckled, adjusting his soda jerk hat. “Just doing what I do best—serving up a little smurfing comfort.”
At dawn, the sleepy village awoke to the scent of warm soufflé and the sound of cheerful chatter. Every Smurf had a slice, every Smurf had a sip, and everyone agreed—Tapper’s root beer could fix just about anything.
Even a midnight disaster.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
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posted 04-13-2025 01:34 AM
A third ChatGPT-generated Tapper story:
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"Tapper Smurf and the Lost Lamb"
One bright spring morning, Tapper Smurf opened his tavern early. He wasn’t serving drinks yet—today was for reflection. It was the anniversary of the day he first came to faith, and he always began it quietly, reading from a tiny, worn book he kept under the counter: The Good Shepherd’s Guide.
While he was praying at his favorite tree behind the tavern, a rustling in the bushes caught his attention.
It was Smurfling Nat—young, energetic, and always asking big questions.
“Tapper,” Nat said, “do you really believe the Good Shepherd cares about every lost lamb? Even the ones who wander off again and again?”
Tapper smiled softly. “Yes, lad. Especially those.”
Nat looked down, scuffing the ground with his foot. “What if I feel lost sometimes? Even when I’m around other Smurfs.”
Tapper stood and placed a hand on Nat’s shoulder. “The Good Shepherd doesn’t lose track of His sheep. Not even for a moment. You may feel lost, but He’s already walking toward you. Sometimes we just have to stop and let Him catch us.”
Just then, a loud baaa came from the woods.
“Was that... a sheep?” Nat asked.
They followed the sound and found a little white lamb tangled in vines. It bleated and struggled, its leg slightly hurt.
“Poor thing,” Nat said, rushing to help.
Together, they freed the lamb and carried it back to the village, where Tapper wrapped its leg and gave it some warm milk from the tavern. Nat stroked the lamb’s wool and looked up.
“So... just like the lamb, even when we’re stuck and scared, the Shepherd still finds us?”
“Exactly,” Tapper said. “And sometimes He sends a helper—like you—to bring someone home.”
That night, as the stars came out, Nat stayed after the tavern closed, helping Tapper sweep the floor.
“Do you think I could read The Good Shepherd’s Guide sometime?” Nat asked.
Tapper smiled, handing him a smaller copy. “It’s yours now, lad. It’s how I found my way home too.”
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
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posted 04-14-2025 01:49 AM
Another ChatGPT-generated Tapper mini-story:
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"Tapper Smurf and the Trick of the Leprechauns"
It was nearly St. Smurftrick’s Day, and Tapper Smurf had decked out his tavern with green streamers, shamrock garlands, and a fresh batch of sparkling green root beer. A little more fun than usual, but Tapper knew how to celebrate with joy and reverence.
That afternoon, as he was organizing his special clover mugs, a sudden wind blew open the tavern doors.
In walked three tiny, sharp-dressed figures, no taller than acorns. They wore green coats, shiny black shoes, and crooked grins. Leprechauns.
“Top o’ the day, barkeep!” the tallest one said. “We heard ye brew the best drink in the forest, and we came for a taste.”
Tapper, always hospitable, poured them each a mug.
But instead of sipping, the leprechauns whispered strange words—and poof! all the root beer in the tavern turned into bubbles and green mist!
“Hey now!” Tapper said. “That’s not very smurfy of you!”
“Oh, we just like a bit o’ mischief,” said the second one, balancing on a stool. “But tell ya what—we’ll change it all back if you beat us in a challenge!”
Tapper sighed. “And if I don’t?”
The third leprechaun grinned. “We take your lucky clover and vanish your tavern into the mist forever.”
Tapper looked at his little clover tucked in his hat—his reminder of God’s faithfulness. He gently took it off and placed it on the bar. “Alright. I accept. But know this—I don’t put my trust in luck... I put it in the Lord.”
The leprechauns scoffed but agreed. “Then solve this riddle, Smurf of Faith,” said the first.
They spoke together:
“The more you take, the more you leave behind.
What are we, clever and hard to find?”
Tapper closed his eyes and prayed silently. Lord, give me wisdom.
Then he opened his eyes and said calmly, “Footsteps.”
The leprechauns froze. Their smiles faded.
“Well... smurf us silly,” one muttered.
With a snap, all the green mist vanished, the root beer returned, and the clover glowed faintly golden.
“You win this round, Tapper Smurf,” they grumbled. “But next time, it won’t be so easy.”
Tapper tipped his soda jerk hat. “I’m not afraid. I’ve got something stronger than magic.”
The leprechauns disappeared in a swirl of wind, leaving behind a single gold coin on the counter.
Tapper chuckled and tucked it into a jar labeled “For the Needy.”
Later that night, when the tavern was full and laughter filled the air, Tapper shared the tale—but added a little twist.
“Sometimes the trickiest mischief is fear,” he said. “But remember—with God’s help, even leprechauns can’t shake your foundation.”
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
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posted 04-14-2025 01:52 AM
Another ChatGPT-generated Tapper mini-story:
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"Tapper Smurf and the Day Nobody Loved Him"
The morning sun rose over Smurf Village, but Tapper's tavern was unusually quiet. No Smurfs came for his famous morning brew. No one waved as he passed. Even Greedy Smurf skipped his usual sweetbread-and-sarsaparilla breakfast.
Tapper felt it right away—something was off.
He walked into the square and saw a crowd gathered. At the center stood the three leprechauns from before, disguised as traveling "joy-bringers."
They had handed out shiny coins, sweet-smelling candies, and whispered a little poison in every ear.
“Tapper thinks he’s better than the rest of ya,” one leprechaun said with a grin. “He won’t even let a Smurf have a little luck. Always talking about faith, always saying no to harmless fun.”
“He turned my drink green and fizzy last week,” Brainy muttered.
“And he said I shouldn’t enter the ‘Luckiest Smurf’ contest!” added Clumsy.
Leprechaun mischief had done its work.
When Tapper arrived, a silence fell. Then came the stares. The murmurs. Someone muttered, “Go back to your tavern, Tapper. You’re not wanted today.”
Tapper’s heart sank. He could’ve argued. He could’ve defended himself.
Instead, he bowed his head and turned to leave.
That night, Tapper knelt behind the tavern under the stars.
“Lord,” he whispered, “You were rejected too. Betrayed, even. Help me love them anyway.”
Just then, a gentle breeze stirred the trees. Tapper looked up, and something stirred in his heart—a quiet assurance: Do not grow weary in doing good. For in due season, you will reap, if you do not give up.
The next day, the village awoke to smoke—fire in the square!
The leprechauns’ “Lucky Lantern” had backfired, and flames were licking the edge of the library.
Before anyone could move, Tapper burst in with a bucket brigade—shouting orders, forming a line, throwing water with unshakable focus.
He didn’t ask for thanks. He didn’t scold.
He just served.
After the fire was out, Papa Smurf stepped forward. “Tapper, we judged you unfairly. You never stopped loving us, even when we stopped loving you.”
Tapper smiled gently. “Forgiveness is part of the job description.”
The leprechauns, watching from a distance, scowled.
“Bah. He’s harder to break than we thought.”
But Tapper wasn’t broken. He was stronger.
Moral: True faith stands when love is tested. And even when others turn away, God remains close to those who walk in love.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
Member Rated:
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posted 04-14-2025 01:54 AM
Another ChatGPT-generated Tapper mini-story:
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"Tapper Smurf and the Last Stand at the Tavern"
The leprechauns had come back—but this time, they didn’t sneak. They marched.
Dozens of them. Green coats flashing, boots stomping, magic glinting in their eyes.
The Smurfs scattered, hiding in their mushroom homes. Only one light stayed on in the village: Tapper’s Tavern.
Inside, Tapper stood behind the bar, polishing a mug like it was just another night. But his eyes were steady, and his heart was praying.
Lord, I don’t know why You’ve let this come, but I’m not backing down. Not from mischief. Not from fear. And not from evil.
Suddenly, the tavern doors burst open. The lead leprechaun strode in, flanked by two more.
“This little place is ours now,” he sneered. “A perfect spot for the Luck & Trickery Pub. We’ll serve lies and greed with every pint!”
Tapper didn’t flinch. “You’ll find no room for that here.”
“Oh?” said the leprechaun, stepping closer. “And who’s going to stop us? You?”
“I don’t stand alone,” Tapper replied. “This tavern was built on truth, fellowship, and faith. You can mock it, curse it, even try to steal it—but as for me and this house, we will serve the Lord.”
The leprechauns laughed... until the wind shifted.
A glow began to rise from under the tavern floor. The old stone beneath the bar—etched with a tiny cross and the initials P.S. for Papa Smurf—shone like firelight. The tavern itself seemed to breathe.
Suddenly, mugs flew from shelves—not in anger, but with purpose, forming a spinning shield between Tapper and his foes.
The jukebox lit up and played an old hymn. The clover in Tapper’s hat glowed gold.
Then—silence.
The leprechauns froze, unsettled. Magic they understood. But faith? That was something different.
“This place is protected,” Tapper said softly. “Not by spells. By the presence of One greater.”
The lead leprechaun hissed. “This isn’t over.”
“I know,” Tapper replied. “But neither is He.”
With a final scowl, they vanished into the wind, leaving behind the faint smell of clover and bitterness.
By morning, the village peeked out to find Tapper sweeping his steps, humming.
The tavern was untouched. And somehow... stronger.
Papa Smurf arrived and placed a hand on Tapper’s shoulder. “You didn’t just protect your tavern, Tapper. You reminded us all what it stands for.”
Tapper nodded. “Hospitality. Truth. And a love stronger than fear.”
Moral: When the world presses in, a heart grounded in faith can become a fortress no darkness can breach.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
Member Rated:
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posted 04-14-2025 02:00 AM
Another ChatGPT-generated Tapper mini-story
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"Tapper Smurf and the Fire From Above"
It started with a drought.
No rain. No breeze. No joy.
The Smurfs grew weary and restless. The crops wilted. Even the river near the village slowed to a trickle. Worry took root like weeds.
Tapper Smurf watched quietly from his tavern window, heart heavy—but not hopeless.
He closed the shutters, set his broom aside, and knelt behind the counter.
“Lord,” he prayed, hands lifted high, “we need more than water. We need You. Pour out Your Spirit on this village. Wake us up. Shake us up. Let the dry bones live.”
And he stayed there—hours passed—praising, singing, whispering Scripture. He prayed in the Spirit, letting the words rise from deep within like a fire that wouldn’t burn out.
The other Smurfs passed by the tavern, hearing him cry out, hearing strange songs float through the cracks.
“Tapper’s lost it,” one whispered.
“He’s just being dramatic again,” another shrugged.
But Tapper stayed on his knees.
And that night… it happened.
A wind rushed through the village—no clouds, no storm—just a roar, like the breath of heaven itself. It burst through the tavern roof with a sound like thunder, yet no damage was done.
The lanterns inside lit with a golden flame, brighter than any fire before.
Tapper stood, his hands lifted, eyes shining. “He’s here,” he whispered, “the Spirit of the Living God is here.”
And the tavern doors burst open.
Smurfs from every corner came running. Something drew them—curiosity, maybe... or maybe their hearts recognized a sound they didn’t know they’d been waiting for.
Tapper stepped onto the porch, voice ringing out:
“In the last days, God said He would pour out His Spirit on all flesh.
And I tell you now, this is that day!
Your fear will turn to fire.
Your weakness will find strength.
And your sorrow will dance.”
Some laughed. Some wept. Some dropped to their knees without knowing why.
Then Brainy Smurf shouted, “The river’s flowing again!”
And sure enough—life returned.
For weeks after, the village buzzed—not with gossip, but with worship. Smurfs met in Tapper’s tavern not just for drinks, but for prayer, testimony, and joyful singing.
Some were healed. Some found courage. Some, like Clumsy, began to speak with boldness they’d never known.
And Tapper? He just smiled, pouring mugs and saying, “When the Spirit moves, you don’t stay seated. You stand, you praise, and you go.”
Moral: When the Spirit fills you, the fire doesn't just warm you—it transforms everything around you.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
Member Rated:
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posted 04-14-2025 02:02 AM
Another ChatGPT-generated Tapper mini-story:
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"Tapper Smurf and the Healing of Hefty"
Hefty Smurf was never one to ask for help. Strong arms, strong will, and a stubborn streak taller than a toadstool. But lately... something had changed.
His strength had begun to fade. His left arm ached constantly. He struggled to lift even small barrels, and his once-proud stride was now a slow limp.
Doctorsmurf had tried every remedy. Papa Smurf had offered rest. But nothing worked.
Hefty pulled away. Stopped training. Stopped visiting. Stopped smiling.
One evening, as the sun dipped low, Tapper found him sitting alone on a rock near the edge of the village, head bowed.
“You’ve been quiet, brother,” Tapper said gently.
Hefty shrugged with his good shoulder. “I’m no use anymore.”
Tapper didn’t argue. He just sat beside him and waited.
After a while, Hefty finally asked, “What if I never get better?”
Tapper turned to him. “Then you’ll still be loved. Still be chosen. But I serve a God who heals, Hefty. Not just bodies—but hearts, fears, and lies that say we’re finished.”
Hefty looked away. “It’s too late.”
Tapper stood. “No. It’s right on time.”
Then he placed a hand on Hefty’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and began to pray.
It wasn’t a fancy prayer. No glowing light. No thunder from heaven.
Just a whisper, rising from faith:
“In Jesus’ name, healing come.
Pain, leave. Strength return.
Let him know You’re near, Lord—right here.
Right now.”
A breeze stirred the leaves. A peace filled the air.
And then—Hefty blinked. Moved his arm. Flexed his hand.
The pain... was gone.
He stood slowly, cautiously—and then grinned as he lifted Tapper in a bear hug that nearly crushed the poor smurf.
“I—how—Tapper, I—!”
Tapper just laughed, patting his back. “Don’t thank me. Thank the Healer.”
The next day, Hefty was back in the training field—but now, he trained with purpose. With gratitude. With a new kind of strength that didn’t come from muscles.
And when others came to him hurting, Hefty would send them to the tavern. Or sometimes… he’d pray for them himself.
Moral: Healing comes in many forms—but always through the hands of love, and the power of God.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
Member Rated:
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posted 04-14-2025 07:38 AM
Another ChatGPT-generated Tapper story, this time with Duncan McSmurf:
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"Tapper Smurf and Duncan McSmurf: A Clash of Fire and Faith"
The tavern was unusually loud one evening—but not from rowdy customers.
From bagpipes.
Tapper winced as a high note rang out like a goat stuck in a thistle bush. He stepped outside to find Duncan McSmurf on a barrel, blasting away with pride, eyes shut tight.
“Duncan,” Tapper said, trying to stay kind, “I love a good tune, but maybe... just a wee bit softer?”
Duncan grinned. “If the hills can hear it, then the Lord can too!”
Tapper chuckled. “Aye, but I think He prefers it in key.”
They laughed, but the moment didn’t last long. A Smurf ran in from the woods, breathless.
“Trouble,” he gasped. “Leprechauns. They’re stirring again. And this time, they’ve got... spells. Dark ones.”
Duncan stood tall. “Then we meet 'em head-on.”
But Tapper raised a hand. “No. Not head-on. Heart-first.”
Duncan scowled. “They don’t listen to hearts. They listen to force.”
Tapper looked at him calmly. “I’ve seen force fail. I’ve seen fire fall. But I’ve never seen love backed by the Spirit lose.”
Later that night, Tapper knelt in the tavern. Duncan paced behind him, sword on his back.
“We pray,” Tapper whispered. “We praise. And when we go, we go filled.”
“You sure this isn’t madness?” Duncan asked.
Tapper smiled. “Only the kind that brings the dead to life.”
They found the leprechauns gathered around a sickly tree, casting spells, trying to twist the roots to poison the village’s water.
Duncan reached for his blade.
Tapper stepped forward first.
“I know why you’re doing this,” he called. “You’re sick. You’re scared. But you don’t need power—you need healing.”
The leprechauns laughed.
Until Duncan pulled out his bagpipes.
“What are you doing?” Tapper asked, confused.
“Backing you up, brother!” Duncan said, puffing them full of wind.
And suddenly—Tapper prayed, Duncan played, and heaven met Highland in a wave of sound and Spirit.
The spells broke. The tree trembled. The ground shook.
And several leprechauns dropped to their knees—weeping.
Later, walking home, Duncan patted Tapper on the back. “I’ll admit... your way works too.”
“And yours made a joyful noise—kinda,” Tapper teased.
From that day on, the tavern featured bagpipe hymns once a week.
And the two Smurfs—one full of fire, one full of faith—became an unstoppable team.
Moral: God uses different gifts—pipes, prayers, praise—to bring the same truth: love never fails.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
Member Rated:
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posted 04-15-2025 03:26 AM
"Duncan McSmurf and the Fight Within"
The tavern was quiet.
A rarity.
No bagpipes. No chatter. Just Tapper, polishing a glass and watching Duncan sit silently at the bar—his sword sheathed, his kilt wrinkled, his eyes heavy.
“Something on your mind, brother?” Tapper asked gently.
Duncan didn’t answer right away.
Finally, he said, “I can win any battle with a blade. But what do you do when the enemy’s inside?”
Tapper set the glass down. “Talk to me.”
Duncan shifted. “I don’t get it. You believe without question. You pray, and things change. I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it. But me? I don’t know if I believe enough. Or if I ever did.”
Tapper pulled up a stool. “You think faith means having no questions?”
Duncan shrugged. “Doesn’t it?”
Tapper smiled. “No. Faith is what you do with your questions.”
They sat in silence for a moment, fire crackling in the hearth.
“I grew up thinking strength was everything,” Duncan said. “You face what’s in front of you and break through. But this... doubt, guilt, the past—I can’t slice through it. Can’t even lift it.”
Tapper leaned forward. “Then maybe you were never meant to carry it alone.”
Duncan looked away. “What if I’m too proud? What if I’ve run too far?”
Tapper’s voice lowered. “Then you’re exactly who the Lord came for.”
Later that night, Tapper walked Duncan to the chapel hidden near the edge of the forest—a small, simple place, lit with lanterns and peace.
Duncan hesitated at the door.
“You don’t have to have it all figured out,” Tapper said. “Just bring what you have. Even if it’s broken.”
Duncan stepped inside.
No one else was there. Just the two of them. And the silence.
He dropped to one knee. Not to fight. Not to swear an oath.
Just... to let go.
And for the first time, Duncan McSmurf prayed not like a warrior—but like a son.
The next morning, Tapper found him standing tall again.
Not heavier with pride—but lighter with peace.
“I still have questions,” Duncan admitted.
Tapper grinned. “So do I. But we’ve got the same Shepherd. And He’s not afraid of questions.”
Moral: Faith doesn’t require perfection—it only asks for surrender. And even the strongest warrior needs a Savior.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
Member Rated:
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posted 04-15-2025 03:27 AM
"Tapper Smurf and the Smurfnip Crisis"
It started small.
Just a few puffs here and there—outside the tavern, behind the bakery, near the riverbank. Smurfnip, they called it. A sweet-smelling herb that made Smurfs giggle uncontrollably and see stars in broad daylight.
“Harmless,” some said. “Relaxing,” others claimed.
But Tapper had seen this before.
Years ago, he’d watched a whole patch of Smurfs in the southern woods waste away—not from famine or foes, but from escape. They laughed themselves into stupor, then into silence.
And now... it was happening here.
One night, Tapper caught a young Smurf slipping out of the tavern’s back door, red-eyed and dazed.
“Where’ve you been, lad?” Tapper asked.
The Smurf shrugged. “Just a little smurfnip with the others. No harm done.”
Tapper’s heart dropped. “Let me walk with you.”
The next morning, Tapper stood before the whole village. No shouting. No finger-pointing.
Just heartbreak.
“I’ve poured cider for many,” he said, “and I’ve shared a song with more. But I’ll never pour something that poisons the spirit.”
He held up a small pouch of smurfnip.
“This isn’t freedom. It’s a leash made of leaves.”
Some scoffed. Others stayed silent.
But Tapper wasn’t done.
“I know what it feels like to want to numb the ache. To laugh when you want to cry. But I also know this—there’s a joy deeper than any smoke, and a peace that doesn’t vanish with the morning light.”
A few days later, Tapper found another pouch of smurfnip tucked behind the tavern.
He didn’t burn it.
He brought it to the chapel and laid it at the foot of the cross carved in the old wood.
“Lord,” he prayed, “they need You more than comfort. They need You more than calm. They need You to wake them up.”
That Sunday, Tapper didn’t preach.
He opened the tavern for worship, as he sometimes did.
One by one, the young Smurfs trickled in. Ashamed. Weary. Wanting something more.
And Tapper stood behind the counter—not with a drink, but with open arms.
Moral: Sometimes, what numbs us becomes what traps us. But the truth doesn't just wake us up—it sets us free.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
Member Rated:
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posted 04-15-2025 03:46 AM
"Tapper Smurf and the Tavern That Wasn’t There"
One misty morning, Tapper woke up to find… his tavern was gone.
Not burned down. Not broken. Just—gone.
The stool where he left his apron? Sitting in open air. The mug rack? Floating midair for a second before crashing to the ground. The entire building had vanished as if someone had smurfed it into another dimension.
He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and muttered, “I didn’t drink anything last night, did I?”
Soon, a crowd gathered where the tavern had been.
Hefty Smurf scratched his head. “You sure you didn’t move it, Tapper?”
Brainy squinted through his glasses. “Impossible! Smurf structures are bound by gravitational logic and communal placement codes 3.1 through—”
“Brainy,” Tapper said, “please.”
Just then, Papa Smurf arrived, staff in hand and eyes twinkling.
“There’s only one thing that can do this,” Papa said. “The Smurfadee.”
Tapper blinked. “The what-now?”
“The Smurfadee,” Papa repeated. “A rare forest spirit that moves things it finds valuable—usually shiny things, sometimes whole buildings.”
“Why would it take my tavern?” Tapper asked.
Papa smiled. “Because it’s not just a tavern. It’s a place of peace. Of joy. Of warmth. The Smurfadee probably thought it belonged somewhere more magical.”
So Tapper, Papa, and Duncan McSmurf (because you don’t go hunting forest spirits without backup and a bagpipe) set off into the woods.
They followed the scent of spilled cider, a trail of salt from the kitchen, and at one point, the faint echo of Tapper’s old prayer bell ringing by itself.
Hours later, they found it—in a clearing flooded with moonlight, surrounded by deer, birds, even leprechauns sitting quietly with mugs in hand. The Smurfadee had placed the tavern perfectly at the center of peace.
Tapper stepped into the doorway and took it all in.
“It’s beautiful,” he whispered.
Duncan elbowed him. “But it ain’t home.”
Tapper nodded, heart full.
He stepped outside, looked to the trees, and simply said, “Thank you for the honor… but my place is with my people.”
And with that, the tavern trembled, shimmered, and reappeared right back in the village—down to the last bottle on the shelf.
The next night, Tapper reopened with a new sign above the bar:
"Peace belongs where it’s needed most."
Moral: Even the most magical things are meant to serve the everyday. Don’t hide your gifts in the woods—plant them in the village.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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Vic George The ND Guy
Super Smurf
Member # 300
Member Rated:
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posted 04-23-2025 12:40 AM
Tapper as he would have appeared in the live-action Smurfs movies.
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VIC GEORGE -- Westfield, MA, USA
"Cat and mouse games really aren't much fun for us mouse types" -- Empath from "Empath The Bandit Smurf"
Posts: 4089 | From: Westfield, MA | Registered: Mar 2003
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