Some friends of mine know that I am a writer and told me about this 48 hour "flash fiction" writing contest that the University of Iowa holds every year. They said that they all participate and encouraged me to do so as well. I wasn't sure that I would. I'm not terrible at writing short stories, but I struggle with them. I always want to explore more and go further into the world or plot I've created and end up writing the beginnings of a novel instead (which ends up abandoned deep in my files more often than not). But, this competition was only 48 hours long, so I wouldn't have very long to write and rewrite and try to perfect every little detail, it had to be 1,000 words or less, so there really wasn't room for details anyway, and the contest would provide two prompts, so I didn't have to pull something out of thin air. When the 48 hour challenge rolled around, I gave it a shot. The contest gave these two prompts: Prompt A: A thriller, the primary character is a fortune cookie writer, and it must include dish soap somewhere in the story. Prompt B: A fantasy, the primary character is an elevator inspector, and it must include a balloon somewhere in the story. I actually ended up writing two stories, both for Prompt B, because I hated the first one after I wrote it and wanted to do better just to spite myself. I get some of my best writing done out of spite for others and myself and I liked the second story better so that's what I submitted. I knew they would be announcing the winners today, and though I had high hopes, I had low expectations. I told my beloved cat, Elinor, before I went to work today that she shouldn't get too excited because this was my first year entering and there are many wonderful writers out there. She ignored me and then meowed at me to turn on the faucet for her so that she could drink some tap water. When I was at work, I quickly got caught up in the busyness of the library and forgot about the writing contest, planning on checking the results when I got home. While I was helping someone print endless copies of personal documents, the phone rang. My coworker told me it was my mom and offered to swap places with me so I could talk to her. Lo and behold, my mom was calling to congratulate me on being named one of five honorable mentions in the writing contest! While I was excited, I was also needed to help with the copier, so I was not as appreciative to my mom as I should have been for her call and hang up rather quickly (sorry, Mom!). The happy thought of having my work looked at and mentioned honorably has warmed me up all day. It will make me even happier to share the story here with anyone who might see it. If you would like to read the fantastic winning entries and the other honorable mentions, check out the University of Iowa Write Now website by clicking the button below. Then keep on scrolling here to read both the story that I got honorable mention for and the first story I wrote for this contest (which I don't hate so much anymore). Honorable mention story: Adaptable Nature Pixies were never meant to live in cities. They weren’t meant to dodge traffic, wheeze through smog, or build their homes out of litter. But, neither were pigeons. Along with their fascination with French fries, pixies and pigeons shared an adaptable nature. Despite the cement towers dominating every block of the city, pixies had still managed to carve out a corner of nature for themselves. They’d found a park on a prime slice of real estate between two highrise behemoths. Humans never noticed their petite homes made of discarded boxes or saw the smoke rising from their drinking straw chimneys. Never had a human foot trampled the pebble paths lined with bottle caps, nor knocked down the picket fences made of cigarette butts. It was a quiet, happy community. Allani, a glittering purple pixie, loved her juice carton home and her plastic bag hammock. She would lay back in the evenings and watch the light from the streetlamp catch on the chandelier she’d crafted from lost earrings. She and her neighbors had just cleared a patch to start a garden and a new coffee shop had just opened near the park--promising a world of tasty cast offs. All would be well. With a contented smile, Allani stretched eagerly one morning. It was still dark, but her chore for the day needed to be done early. She closed her front door and flapped her dragonfly wings. Buzzing into the air, she took off down the street and hummed to herself, observing the neighborhood. She waved at a rat she knew as he scurried away, dragging a soft pretzel behind him, and blew a kiss to the raccoon in the dumpster. She cried out in pure delight when she spotted a purple balloon stuck in the scraggly tree by the street. It was the same color as her hair and she loved it immediately. For ten minutes she fought with the string and the branch holding it, before freeing her prize. The few, sleepy humans who noticed the balloon watched it only for a moment. In their city there were more exciting things to pay attention to than a lone, bobbing balloon. Allani towed the purple orb to the shiny building not far from her park and used it to trigger the sensor for the sliding glass doors. Once inside, she breathed in the scent of the perfumed lobby. She admired her reflection in the floor and then made her way to the elevators. Both were out of order, but Allani was in a good mood. She could have found the stairwell and flown up, she supposed. However, she knew that elevators were important in emergency situations for paramedics and police. So, Allani decided to investigate and find the cause of the problem. She’d lived in an elevator shaft for a short time before moving to her current home and she considered herself an expert. At least among pixies. She left her balloon waiting in the lobby and pressed the button on the elevator. Nothing happened, so she pried the cover off the button panel and examined the wires. Humming again, she used her teeth to cut through a few wires and rework them to open the heavy metal doors. With a nod to herself, she entered the elevator and began poking around. Her inspection seemed to be a dead end. Nothing she could find would stop the lift from lifting, so she tried pushing a button on the panel. It lit up, but there was no movement. Crossing her arms and tapping her chin, Allani tried to think. Eventually, she snapped her fingers and flew through the crevice that led to the shaft. She fluttered up to the suspension cables and looked around. Just as she’d suspected, a fuzzy green creature sat, gnawing on the cables, a fistful of important looking wires in his hand. A gremlin. Allani wasn’t big enough to fight the machine destroying creature, but she was smart enough to get rid of him. It helped that gremlins were not so bright themselves. All she had to do was tell him that there was a helicopter landing on the roof and he scampered up the cables and away with a hoot of excitement. There was nothing gremlins liked more than air vehicles. After that, it was short work to put the elevator back in working order. Before she rode to the top floor, she went back for her balloon and brought it with her. She’d learned the key code for the penthouse days before by silently watching and she entered it to gain access to the luxurious apartment. Once inside, she marveled at the array of trinkets. When she finally found her way to the bedroom, she picked up a sparkly diamond earring. It would be perfect decor. She glanced at the two sleeping figures in the bed and then at her balloon. She knew she couldn’t keep the big purple thing, but she decided it could still be useful. She gently poked a hole near the balloon knot with her new earring. The helium whooshed out and she giggled in a higher pitch at the flatulent sound. Once it was deflated, she took the purple latex and flew toward the king sized bed. She landed on the man’s sharp cheekbone and watched him sleep peacefully for a moment. Then she pried open his mouth and shoved the balloon deep into his esophagus. He choked and spluttered. The woman next to him tiredly slapped at his arm, muttering for him to be quiet. Her wish came true a moment later and Allani sat on the man’s neck to check his pulse. Satisfied with her handiwork, she wrestled his phone over to his face to unlock it. With a gleeful grin, she typed a text message: I changed my mind. Don’t build on the park. Leave it alone. After hitting send, she took the earring and returned home. Story I started out hating, but don't mind so much now: Pat's Last Inspection Dust coated the panel and the buttons no longer lit up. The floor grabbed at shoes with years of sticky grime. Somehow, the handrail around the steel box was still shiny, but who really ever used the handrail inside an elevator anyway? Pat reached out to press the button for the top floor. One ride and then her inspection would be complete. After that she could go home to her recliner and her leftovers. Her joints rejoiced at the thought of sitting. With her boss and her knees reminding her every day that she was getting too old for her job, she wondered for the millionth time if she ought to retire soon. Just as the elevator doors started to close, someone stepped inside. She blinked and looked over her clipboard into the golden eyes of a young man. Her niece was into comic conventions and had a pair of contacts that did the same thing, but the shimmery color still unnerved Pat. “Did you not see the sign?” She asked. His hair was down to his shoulders in an unkept, but stylish shape. When he looked at her and smiled, she noticed stars painted on his cheeks like freckles. “Sign?” She wondered if the British accent was part of his character. “The ‘closed for inspection’ sign printed on neon paper?” “Are you a lift inspector?” He turned fully to look at her and she saw that his jacket was covered in patches of stars, hearts, and balloons. “Excellent career choice. Do you enjoy it?” She pushed the button for the next floor and when the doors opened she pointed, “Out. I haven’t finished my inspection yet.” “I can’t take the stairs,” he sighed regrettably and gestured to his cane. Had he been carrying that the whole time? Pat stared at the intricately carved walking stick. With her line of work, she liked to think that she was fairly observant, but she felt like the cane had been pulled from thin air. “Oh,” she shook her head, “Fine. I’m almost done anyway. You’re headed to the top floor?” “Hopefully.” “The elevator’s not in that bad of shape,” she laughed, “There’s no ‘hopefully’ about it. We’ll get there.” “Well, with elevators like this, you never can be sure,” he rapped his cane on the door, “Can’t see a thing through all this metal and there are no windows.” “Claustrophobic?” “I mean…” he waved his hand flippantly, “Well, isn’t it exciting? We step in a box in one place, push a button, and step out in entirely another.” Pat eyed him curiously, but didn’t comment. It was too late in the day to entertain whatever philosophical or phantasmical thought he was thinking. “How can we be sure of where we’ll be let out at the end of the ride?” “That helps,” she pointed at the box, displaying the floor number. He burst into laughter and didn’t stop until they reached their floor. However, when the doors opened, rather than the corridor of a low income apartment building, Pat saw a sidewalk lined with carousels, tilt-a-whirls, and roller coaster queues. Emitting an unintelligible flabbergasted sound, Pat looked around and then looked at the man next to her. He frowned and tapped his cane on the ground. “Just as I suspected,” he nodded, “This lift isn’t up to code. Wouldn’t you agree?” “What the--” “Hold that thought,” he stepped out of the elevator and walked toward a man selling balloons. He grabbed the bunch of balloons from the man and sprinted back to the elevator, shoving the balloons into the space. He pressed the “door close” button rapidly, but they didn’t close until the balloon man had nearly reached them. “What are those for?” Pat asked over the squeaking of the latex. “The lift isn’t up to code. We’d better take it in for repairs.” “I don’t understand,” she clutched at the handrail behind her and tried to process what was happening. Her best guess was that, along with a stairway, the Almighty had recently added an elevator, but the man didn’t seem like an angel. And her doctor said her heart meds were working fine. “I’m glad you let me on. Clearly this was a job for two inspectors,” he tipped his top hat--had he been wearing it before? “Two?” “We’re on the same career path, believe it or not. You deal with bothersome lifts, I deal with more delinquent ones.” “Am I dead?” “Doubt it, but you wouldn’t be the first ghost I’ve met,” he began poking balloons with his walking stick. “Anyway, let's get this box to the shop, shall we?” The balloons swelled and glowed. The floor number went higher than there were levels in the building. Pat felt her stomach flutter. When they finally stopped the doors opened to a whimsical workshop perched on a cloud. Pat gripped the rail tighter and refused to get out. The balloons floated out and the man approached the workshop, waving a clipboard. Pat’s clipboard. A woman wearing a hefty toolbelt took the clipboard and nodded before looking behind the man and waving. Pat waved shakily back. “We’ll get it fixed and have you back to your inspection in a jiff,” the woman called, “Just hold tight!” She approached with her tool belt and went straight to work on the button panel. What work she did Pat had no idea, but in twenty minutes she slapped the panel and nodded. “All set, thanks for your cooperation!” The man swapped places with the mechanic and brought the balloons with him. He hit the ground floor button on the panel and then began popping balloons with his cane. They dropped and Pat screamed the whole way. When the doors next opened, they were in the lobby of the building. The man shook her hand, his hat and cane missing, and left. When he was gone, Pat called her boss. “I want to retire. Today.” (I hope you enjoyed those stories and the silly covers I made for them on Canva! Thanks for reading!)
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You know the drill, we can read and cringe together! This story continues to get more and more ridiculous. But it's still fun to read it and I hope you are having fun listening to it! And yes, I know my wording choice for many things is... super special. Let's forget about it, okay? I was a stupid 13 year old when I wrote this. If you'd like to read along while you listen, check out the text below the video! Chapter 1: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iTUM9KCZv90&t=99s Chapter 2: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hp5A-ySIpUY Chapter 3: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=foSc0cvhfDU Chapter 4: Coming Together
The M.T.M was coming together beautifully. The machine was being hidden by Grandpa’s outhouse to keep prying eyes out of the children’s business. The only problem was that Grandpa wanted to use his outhouse. James convinced him to use the “nice indoor plumbing system” until the kids had finished remodeling it. And so they worked. Rosie helped James with the building and operation of the machine. Jeff helped by telling the two what they needed to do to take them into fairytales, because, you see, that is where they are trying to go, into a book. Abby collected costumes that matched the descriptions Jeff gave her. They had two tunics for the boys and two gowns for the girls. As soon as Abby brought the costumes over Rosie squealed with delight. She actually squealed. The costumes were exquisite. The boys didn’t really like their costumes, Jeff and James thought that they were too manly to wear those girly clothes. But the girls enjoyed swishing about the yard in their gowns. Abby’s was gold and white with long sleeves and full skirt. Rosie’s dress was the same shape but was blue and silver. Every day after school the kids came over to James’ house to work on M.T.M. They loved spending all their free time working on the machine. I certainly wouldn’t do that. I probably would just watch TV. But this isn’t about me, it’s about the M.T.T. THAT is what the four youths started to call themselves. M.T.T. stood for: Magic (even though it’s not magic) Transport Team. Not the catchiest name I’ve heard before, but then again, it does cover the basics. They ARE a team. The machine DOES transport them. And it IS magical, sort of… not really. So they kept the title of M.T.T. even if they might get made fun of if they ever told anyone. As I have stated before, I know nothing of science. I just don’t! Some people don’t know a thing about math, or geography, I just am one of those people but with science. So now that the machine is finished, I couldn’t begin to tell you how it works. The Magical (even though it’s not magic) Transport Machine was really finished. It took forever, but it was finished. Well, it didn’t really take “forever”; otherwise you would be too dead to read about it. So it actually took a really, really, REALLY long time to finish the M.T.M. (Like, five days.) I COULD tell you how to USE the machine, but I think I’ll let James. “I will show you how to use it.” James said melodramatically, “First you enter the outhouse, or what appears to be an outhouse.” The rest of the kids groaned, they knew that already! “Then, you place a book, any book, into the box over on this back wall.” James said, pointing, “The book’s title will appear on the screen to the left of the box. If it appears on the box to the right, then we have a problem. It will mean that this book has either been used too many times, or that it has reached the end and you need to open it to the beginning. If the book comes to the end while someone is in the book, they’ll be stuck in that world forever or until I can figure how to get them out.” The others stared at James, no one wanted to be stuck in a book for the rest of their life. Don’t worry people, nothing too bad happens to ANYONE, not even the villain. Oops I forgot that you don’t know who the villain is yet. Never fear readers, I will introduce her soon enough, because she is dying to meet you. I’ll let James continue now, “Don’t worry; I won’t let anyone get stuck in there. I can assure you that won’t happen. Want to know why? Because I added a time limit to how long you can be in. You can adjust that on this dial.” James said smugly as he pointed to what looked like an oven timer attached to the wall. “Moving on; the screen underneath the box with the book is where you select the chapter that you would like to enter into.” The screen had a blue frame and looked as if it had come off some sort of hand held gaming system. “After that you put on your costume and unlock this glass box that has the start button underneath.” To the left of the bottom screen there was a glass box with a key hole on it. Under the box the kids could clearly see a big red button. “Why is it red?” Rosie inquired skeptically. “Uh, I, it’s because… I don’t really know why it’s red. I suppose it’s because in every movie I’ve seen the important buttons are always red.” James laughed, scratching his head. “So why is it locked?” Rosie questioned. “So that no other human being can use it except us.” James responded, puffed up with pride, pride that soon got deflated. “You forgot one thing, ‘Einstein’. We don’t have keys.” Abby put into the conversation rudely. James’ eyes popped open in surprise. “I forgot keys! Oh no! How will we work it?! I am such an idiot!” Cried the teen while burying his head in his hands. Jeff coughed. “Uh, James, we didn’t forget the keys. The six keys we had made are in your back pocket. I saw them when you bent over.” James turned around and tried to nab the keys from his own pocket, he kept spinning around and finally keeled over. The keys flew into the air and landed in the toilet that James and Rosie had removed from the outhouse. “Yuck!” The four kids shrieked. They went over to the lavatory and bent to look into it. Now before I write any more about the kids I must explain something. Outhouses are usually just a hole in the ground with walls surrounding it. This outhouse was not; otherwise they certainly couldn’t have taken the toilet out. When Grandpa had ordered this outhouse it was the latest in outhouse deals. This baby had a toilet inside that was very deep, I won’t go into these disgusting details for sake of your stomach. I will tell you that the kids definitely did not want to reach a hand into the “deep toilet”. This is not abnormal of them, I wouldn’t want to either. So instead of plunging their nice clean hands into the wet, slimy filth, they got Freddy to do it. I know, I know: who is Freddy? Alfred is his real name and he is James’ younger brother. Freddy was more than willing to stick his hand in the gunk when James said that Alfred would get paid a buck for finding the keys and washing them off. Freddy probably would have done it without getting paid; he was just one of those nasty little boys who love to get dirty. I say “yuck” to them. As soon as Freddy had produced the keys, his mother called him inside for a snack. “Sorry Jamie, I need a snack.” The six year old said, dropping the keys back into the toilet. The four older kids gasped and stared, for everyone knew that Freddy had nap time right after snack and would not be back to help for hours. They would have to retrieve the keys themselves. When they all realized this, the girls instantly took a step back. “We can’t do it, we’re ladies!” Abby squealed while pinching her nose. So the boys played rock-paper-scissors to decide who had to do this nauseating task. Jeff won and James had to find the keys. I definitely will NOT describe the details of poor James’ experience. In the end they retrieved the keys and cleaned them off with the yard hose. The smell would stick with James for the rest of his life. Since they had the six keys and the M.T.M. the kids wanted to go on an adventure. Wouldn’t you? If you had the power to go into any book you wanted, wouldn’t you want to try it out? The four teens sure did. The teens all wanted to try it out, BUT there was one problem, they couldn’t decide what book to use. Jeff wanted to use Robin Hood, James wanted to use a comic book, Abby wanted to use an advice book called Let’s Talk, and Rosie thought they should go into Cinderella. They spent hours arguing over what book they should use. “How would it look inside an advice book? Not interesting, that’s how!” Was Rosie’s argument. “Oh, and Cinderella would be interesting? It’s a baby story!” Abby challenged. “I think we should use the machine for its intended purpose, going into fairytales, I would prefer Robin Hood, but Cinderella would be okay too.” Jeff pointed out. “You just want to do what Rosie says because you have a crush on her!” Abby screeched angrily. “No way, I’m just pointing out that Rosie has an excellent book choice.” Jeff screeched back. “Guys, I’m telling you, Captain Tough Guy is the best choice for our first experience in the M.T.M.” James put in. “Hey James, can we get killed in a book?” Jeff asked. “Yeah… I forgot to mention that.” James said, his face turning red. “That’s what I thought. So we should probably test it on a book that we can’t get killed in, so the girls’ choices are our only safe options.” The girls then started arguing with each other about whose idea was best. Rosie’s idea won out in the end because no one wanted to go into a boring old advice book. So they all went into the small outhouse and realized that they didn’t have the book. “Oops, I didn’t think of that.” Rosie said after they all got their costumes on. But before the four had time to become downtrodden, Freddy came into the outhouse and inserted his own book. The six year old then pressed the start button that had been left open. Then there was a swirling around the small room and the five children were sucked from our world. The next thing the kids knew was that they were face to face with Elmo of Sesame Street. “Hello, Elmo loves you!” I bet you can guess who said that. “Aaaah!” All of our favorite characters screamed. Why was Elmo here? More importantly, where was here?! The four teens looked angrily at the six year old that had accompanied them. “Freddy, what book did you put in our machine?” James asked crossly. “Um, we’re in Elmo’s Day Out.” Freddy said sheepishly. The teenagers groaned collectively. You are probably wondering what self-respecting six year old would read Elmo’s Day Out? Yeah, Freddy isn’t too happy that his mother makes him read baby books, but Mother didn’t want Freddy to read anything with romance, fighting, bad language, or bad people. Freddy had scarcely convinced his mom to let him read Elmo’s Day Out. It was Freddy’s favorite book since there was more than just rhymes in it, and when he heard that his big brother talking about going into books he wanted to visit Elmo and tell him how grateful he was for the book that saved Freddy from the horrors of Baby Blue Counts to Two. THAT is how all the teens and Freddy got to the world of Sesame Street. Elmo waited for the older kids to finish yelling at Freddy and then said, “When you fight, it makes Elmo sad.” “Well Abby no care what makes Elmo sad! Abby need to ask James how in the world we are going to get home!” Abby said turning her head towards James. “Uh, I don’t think you should encourage the baby talk, Abby.” James said. Abby snarled. “Anyway, about getting home, it depends on how long Rosie set the timer for.” James and everyone else turned to Rosie. “Yeah, about that… I thought we were going into Cinderella and I set the timer for one hour.” The other kids stood with their mouths open. An hour in Sesame Street?! How horrible! I can guarantee that is what everyone but Freddy was thinking. “What are we going to do?” Jeff asked unhappily, “We’ll be here for an hour!” “Elmo thinks that you should come shopping with him.” Elmo said. The girls looked at Elmo with intrigue. “Shopping did you say?” Abby queried enthusiastically. So the teenagers and Freddy went to the mall with Elmo. The girls looked for something more comfortable than their costumes, but all they found were dresses that looked like they were from the eighties. After shopping Elmo took them to Hooper’s store. If you, unlike me, didn’t spend the early years of your childhood watching Sesame Street, I will fill you in. Hooper’s store is a store in Sesame Street where the monsters and Big Bird sometimes hang out. And no, I will not answer the question of who Big Bird is, his name is self-explanatory. At the store the teens all asked for soda but were refused that privilege, being told that it was too sweet for them, and that it might give them cavities. When Freddy told the guy running the store that they would all like milk, a cow walked in and gave it to them. As the hour came to an end the teenagers rejoiced. No more Elmo! The hour finished and the kids heard Rosie’s recorded voice saying, “Your time is up and you will now be removed from the story you are in-- Abby, stop playing with that!” Before the kids could comprehend what was going on they felt a sucking feeling coming from the sky and they were extracted from Elmo’s Day Out. What a weird feeling it was to be “extracted” right out of a world. At home the five children noticed that it was actually an hour later in their time from when they’d left. “I was expecting the time not to change here, like in Narnia.” Jeff said casually, as he climbed out of the outhouse. “Me two; it was supposed to make it seem to our parents that we weren’t gone for very long, but I guess I didn’t hook it up right or something.” James said in the form of an explanation. The girls nodded. “Well I imagine that it’s about supper time, we should all head home.” Rosie reckoned. So they did, James walked them to his front gate and then headed inside for a hotdog. Abby went to her mother’s restaurant and had venison. Rosie went to her family carwash and her dad took her to Fast Delivery Frank’s. And Jeff had a lovely dinner on a TV tray. It was a satisfactory evening for all. The next day, Saturday, provided a chance for the young people we have come to love to go to James’ house yet again. This time, to avoid confusion, Jeff brought over a collection of his fairytale books. The list included titles such as: Robin Hood, Snow White, Cinderella, Rumplestiltskin, Jack and the Beanstalk, and Peter Pan. The rest of the kids brought over some fairytales as well like: Thumbelina, Sleeping Beauty, Beauty and the Beast, The Three Little Pigs, The Princess and the Pea, and The Emperor’s New Clothes. Oh yeah, James threw Captain Tough Guy in the pile too. Also, Freddy hid Cat in the Hat in the heap. The quartet took the books into the M.T.M and set them in a stack next to the pile of costumes. This took them the equivalent of five minutes. After they had packed the books into the machine they all sat on the lawn to hold the first meeting of the M.T.T. “As leader of the M.T.T., I now call this meeting to order.” James said. They appointed James as the leader because he had come up with the idea for their science fair project. Jeff was commander of books and facts. Rosie was Captain of mechanics, and Abby was in charge of club fashion. “First we have a report on the book status from Jeff.” Jeff stood on cue and announced that they now had their books in order and they would never again be tricked into going to Sesame Street. They all cheered merrily. Next was Rosie’s mechanical report of how the machine was holding up extremely well, mostly because they had only used it once. “Abby is next with her report on the costume position.” James said as Abby cleared her throat. “Eh hem, I have an exciting announcement to make,” Abby announced. “So make it!” Freddy jeered. “As I was saying… I got us some new costumes so that we won’t have to wear the same ones over again. I have cowboy outfits in case we go into a western. I found some pirate costumes for when we go into Peter Pan. And finally, I got a couple accessories for the costumes we already have.” So they put the new outfits and such into the costume pile. Then, of course, they all wanted to go in a story. I’ll save you the trouble of reading the quarreling that went on after that and skip to what book they finally decided on. The name may sound familiar to you, either from earlier in this story or from reading the book yourself. The title they chose was Rumplestiltskin. Now the title of this chapter may confuse you. You probably thought it was about the machine “coming together”, but really it is about some people who come together. So the M.T.T. went into the M.T.M. (not Freddy) and inserted the book they had chosen. I must explain something to you fairytale fanatics. When Abby had received this book for her birthday a couple of years ago, she hadn’t bothered to check why the book appeared to be twice as thick as it really was. The reason, reader, is that there was actually another story hidden under the cover of the book. You’ll see why this story matters soon enough. The four teens crowded into the outhouse and put their original costumes on over their clothing. Jeff inserted the book and unlocked the glass box. He paused-- for effect-- and then hit the big, red start button. Again came the swirling and the thirteen year old children were, again, sucked from our world. That very same day Felix was locked in his room. The last time we saw Felix he was riding to the castle with Stiltskin riding on a noble steed. We also knew that he was going to have a tough time explaining the situation he was in to his parents. Well, when he explained the position of Rumplestiltskin to his parents, they locked him in his room with his crown tied to his head. Stiltskin was thrown in the dungeon for questioning later. Now Felix was sitting on his bed being inspected by the royal wizard. Felix was being examined because his parents thought that the only way Felix would help such a vicious villain as Rumplestiltskin would be because Felix was under a spell, which isn’t true at all. That is just what the King and Queen thought. “I believe that you have a common spell set upon you Your Highness. It is called the ‘Do-what-I-want spell’.” The old wizard stated. Felix rolled his eyes. “For the last time Reggie, I don’t have any sort of spell laid upon me. I was telling the truth when I told Mother and Father about Rumplestiltskin being innocent.” The wizard, Reggie, groaned. “Your Highness, I know Stiltskin personally, he is not a nice fellow. He also happens to be an expert at spell construction. It is entirely possible that you are being controlled by him right now.” Felix rolled his eyes again. What an annoying fellow Reggie was. The wizard continued to inspect the prince. Soon the old man went away to tell the King and Queen about the “spell” that had been placed on Felix. The prince tried to go out the window like he did when he was a young boy. He was too big. That or the window had been shrunken, which, in that world, was entirely possible. That afternoon Felix had to be let out of his room to take care of the unicorns. He went into the stable yard and turned. Felix realized that he was being followed by the two men who had taken him to the throne room the other day. “Hey you two, leave me alone! The unicorns can get skittish and gore people. How would you like to explain that to my Father?” The two men understood and left the royal to his unicorns. In the pen Felix saw a bright flash of light right in front of him. “What is that?!” he asked to no one in particular. Then four kids Felix’s age stepped forth. Okay, so the book that the M.T.T. put in the machine was thicker than it appeared. I explained that before. The second part of the book that was hidden was all about Felix because the real Rumplestiltskin story was explained by the Queen earlier. So when the book opened to the second story that is where the kids went. They arrived right as Felix was going into the unicorn pen. Now you see why I needed to explain that the book was thicker. So… you want to go get lunch? Oh, right! The story! As the kids stepped out of our world and into the book of Rumplestiltskin, they noticed a stable boy standing in front of them. “Hey Jeff, who is this in the story? Is it Rumplestiltskin?” Abby whispered, leaning into Jeff. “I don’t think THIS is Rumplestiltskin, but let me ask.” Jeff paused and turned to the stable boy, or who they THOUGHT was a stable boy, “Um, do you happen to have the talent to spin straw into gold sir?” The other boy backed up uneasily. “Who might you be?” “I am Jeffrey Roberts and these are my friends: James Kingston, Abby Gail, and Rosetta Stone. You are probably freaked out because we just appeared out of thin air and all, but don’t worry, we won’t hurt you.” Jeff explained. The other kid’s face held an expression that could have defined shock. “Are you wizards? But no! You’re too young. What about wizard’s apprentices? Show me your wands and explain what spell you used to get here! I can have you imprisoned, so you better get speaking.” The boy said in a sort of befuddled way. “We aren’t wizards; we didn’t even know they existed! We’re just four normal kids, like you.” Abby said confidently. The boy’s mouth opened and he yelled one word, “Guards!” The next thing the M.T.T knew was that they were being surrounded by giant, muscular men. Felix called for the guards after the four wizards in training had tried to explain who they were. The guardsmen came in hurriedly when they heard the heir to the throne calling for help. The four other children put up quite a fight, but the thing was, they only seemed to be able to fight with their mouths. The guards easily over powered them. Felix was confused. Why hadn’t they used magic? He told the guards to make the captives hand over anything that they had with them. The four put their hands into pockets on their garments and produced these items: An odd box came from one of the boys, the one called James, a bottle of red paint that you put on your lips from one of the girls, a pair of tinted spectacles from the other girl, and a small stuffed bear from the other boy. “What are these items? Show me how they work!” Felix asked commandingly. The one called James stepped forwards and picked up his box. “You turn it on by flipping this switch,” everyone from Rumplestiltskin’s world gasped as the box showed little men trapped inside, beating up other little men. “Then to play, you just move this guy to kill off the other ones.” The fellow said rather happily. Felix was horrified. “Why do you kill the other little men?!” he screeched. “Um, it’s part of the game dude.” Then Felix and James had a long discussion about why is it a game to kill people. In the end Felix got a headache and Abby was asked to show what her potion of red paint did. “Um, it’s make-up. What else is there to know?” The girl shrugged. Felix nodded in understanding; his mother sometimes wore stuff such as that. Then was the girl with the tinted spectacles. “These are sun-glasses; they keep you from hurting your eyes on a sunny day. Although I can’t really wear them over my normal glasses.” Felix tested them out. This was a marvelous invention! Finally, the boy with the stuffed bear. “This is my teddy-bear, uh, I like to take him with me because I get scared sometimes and he comforts me.” Jeffery’s face turned red with embarrassment. Felix nodded. “They have no magic on them. You may release them.” After this other kid, who was definitely more important than a stable boy, made them show him all the stuff in their pockets, the M.T.T. was released. Abby leaned towards Jeff and asked how long the timer had been set for. “I set it for two hours.” Jeff replied casually. Abby nodded. “Let’s hope that it’s more worth-while than Sesame Street.” The other boy, whose name, they learned, was Felix, told them to stop whispering. So Felix led the procession into the throne room to show the King, Queen, and Reggie, the wizard, what had been found in the stables. The M.T.T. was pushed along behind Felix and the guards were the pushers behind them. “Um, Felix, right? I was wondering why you are so important, are you like a knight protecting the new prince or princess?” Jeff questioned. “What new prince or princess? I’m the only prince there is.” Jeff was confused; the Rumplestiltskin story didn’t say anything about an older prince! Felix stared at Jeff, “What new prince or princess?” He asked again. “Uh, I thought that there was a new baby around, you know, the one Rumplestiltskin wants?” Felix looked even more confused. “I was that baby! What are you talking about?” Jeff started to talk, but then stopped; he’d figure it out later. When they arrived at the throne room the guards opened the massive double doors. Inside the King and Queen sat upon high, golden thrones. “Who have you brought to us Felix?” The Queen asked lovingly. “These odd four appeared in the stables while I was feeding and grooming the unicorns.” Felix said. Rosie tried to suppress a giggle, it just didn’t sound right for a boy of this age to be saying “unicorn”. “You think something is amusing? The fact that you trespassed into the royal stables is not something I’d find humorous!” The King roared. Rosie quickly stopped giggling. “Sorry, um, Your Majesty, nothing is funny, nothing at all.” “You speak when spoken to, no other time.” Rosie hastily decided that this was not the best time to point out that the King had, indeed, spoken to her. Felix’s parents discussed something with Reggie and quickly declared that the children should undergo a whole magical check-up, to see if they had any invisible wands or any stray spells lingering at their fingertips. Reggie came over to them and asked them to float. The teens stared at the strange old man in disbelief. “We can’t float! We can’t do any magic at all!” Jeff spoke up, “We built a device that allows us to go into different worlds than ours and we came into yours!” Jeff would have said more but the wizard, Reggie, cut them off. “What kind of device? Is it a magical item or something more under the study of science?” “Definitely more scientific, it is for a school project.” James replied. Reggie looked intrigued. “And what is the power source?” “It uses solar power that means it runs on the sun’s rays.” Rosie answered. Reggie would have continued, but the King interrupted. “So do they have any magic or not? I don’t pay you to talk to people Reginald.” Reggie went up to the King. “I’m sorry to contradict you, Highness, but I got them to talk long enough for me to test if they have magic. It is a very complex deception, when a wizard is distracted they don’t think to suspect if their magic is being tested and can’t stop my scanning.” The King rolled his eyes. “So do they have magic on them or what?” Reggie slid his glasses into place, they fell right back down. “They have not a spec of magic anywhere upon them.” The King looked satisfied for once. “Good. So now the question is, why did you four children go trespassing into my unicorn pens?” Rosie giggled again; it was so funny to see a grown man say “unicorn”. “It was purely an accident and we are terribly sorry if we upset the unicorns.” Abby said diplomatically. And that is how things “came together”. Here we go with chapter three! This chapter mixes things up a little bit, introducing us to a character who is not like the other four. And also an elf. Please excuse my terrible accents, I needed a way to audibly distinguish between the characters, so you're just going to have to put up with it. My apologies. Also, I did include a very short blooper in this video because I hadn't read the chapter before reading and I was taken aback by a very random scene involving pudding. 8th grade me thought she had a great sense of humor. I'm not sure I agree. If you haven't listened to the first two chapters yet you can check out Chapter 1 here and Chapter 2 here. As always, you can read along in the text below the video. Chapter 3: Felix
What a great day. Felix Royal thought. Royal IS a weird last name. That is because it comes with the job Felix has. You’ll see what I mean in a moment. Felix couldn’t believe what an unbelievably good day he was having. It was so good that Felix started to hum an old nursery tune. This was rare for Felix because his family had to worry about every dangerous creature in the world attacking anyone in the kingdom and he was rarely giddy enough to sing. Felix sang to himself as he carried a basket of unicorn food. Why in the world would he need unicorn food you ask? That is also part of the boy’s job. Yes, I am talking of the same mystical creature you’re thinking of. The thing is Felix lives in a different world than us. In his world there are unicorns, dragons, and elves. Oh elves, the sneaky little creatures, not the same kind that help Santa Clause. These little fellows love to play pranks and cause mischief. They are about one foot tall and wear all purple, even their hair is purple! All right, let’s get back to Felix. He was carrying unicorn food to the unicorn’s stall at the back of the stables. Now you are probably wondering what job would cause you to change your last name and make you feed unicorns. The answer is simple, Felix is the prince. I hope I gave you enough time to recover from your shock; it is SO irritating when you faint in the middle of a story. Felix has the last name Royal because he is royalty. He has to feed the unicorns because only princes can handle unicorns. I know this is a lot to take in. Oh well, you’ll get it eventually. Felix dumped the slop into the feed trough. He whistled and the kingdom’s three best unicorns came running to him. He brushed their manes and stroked their sides. After Felix had taken care of his unicorns he went inside the well-lit castle. The sun fell on the tapestries that hung on the ancient brick walls. Felix wandered, dawdling so to keep him away from other people. He hated running into people that he didn’t know personally, they always bowed and made a big deal about him being prince. Do you know how annoying it is to be right in the middle of walking your dog and someone comes up and says “How is your health your majesty?”? It is quite bothersome Felix can assure you. Perhaps people wouldn’t recognize me if I took off my crown… The boy took his golden band off his cranium. A few seconds later two big, burly fellows ran up to him and picked him up! “Hey! What’s the big idea?!” Felix hissed into one of the men’s ear. The two paid no mind to the teenager’s questions, but instead they tore through the halls of the castle. They, unlike Abby and James, looked where they were going and ended up exactly where they wanted to be, the throne room. Inside the throne room Felix’s parents sat upon their regal chairs. The queen dashed over to her son and ordered the men to put him down. The gents looked to the king, who nodded. The fellows put Felix down and stepped back from the mother and son. “Felix! Are you alright? We sent guards to you as soon as your crown was taken off your head.” The Queen said, inspecting her son. “H-how did you know w-where I was and that I had t-taken off my c-crown? I, I didn’t tell anyone w-where I was.” Felix stuttered after he recovered from his shock. The Queen sighed. “Can I tell him darling?” The Queen asked the King. “I suppose he can know.” The King sighed melodramatically. “Know what?” Felix pursued. “Felix,” his mother began, “Before you were born I made a deal with an elf that had an amazing talent, spinning straw into gold. My father needed money, so he claimed that I had this talent as well. YOUR father heard of this and offered to marry me if I could spin three rooms full of straw into gold. The first room was filled to the brim and I knew that I would be executed for not doing as the king told. Then the elf appeared. He promised to do it for me in exchange for a bracelet that I had.” The Queen took a breath and continued, “I told him that I’d give it to him if he saved me from what my father had gotten me into. He helped me with the first and second rooms of straw. On the third room I ran out of jewelry.” Felix scowled as the Queen continued, “I ran out of jewelry and I promised the first royal child.” The Queen looked as if she could cry, “As you know that is you.” Felix nodded. “Go on.” He requested grimly. “When I became queen it was the last thing on my mind. Shortly after you were born I didn’t even remember, until the elf showed up. He said that if I could guess his name he would let me keep you. I thought, ‘How hard can it be to guess his name?’ So I got a list of all the names that anyone had ever named anyone. I kind of forgot to get the list of elfin names. So the little man thought he had won. Then one day one of the kingdom’s best spies spotted the elf in the woods. The elf was chanting ‘They’ll never guess my name! Rumplestitskin’s won the game!’ The spy came back to the castle and told me immediately what he had seen.” Felix nodded but didn’t understand fully. “So what does this have to do with me being found when my crown is taken off?” “Honey, you’re not going to like this, but Rumplestiltskin, the elf, is still after you. Because of this we put a tracking spell in your crown. It tells us where the crown is no matter what happens to it. This way Stiltskin couldn’t take you without us knowing where you are, unless, of course you take your crown off. So the crown also tells us when you take it off.” Felix was mad, angry, and maybe even furious. His parents had been tracking him every day of his life, and he hadn’t even known it! What else were they keeping from him? Felix threw the crown on his head down. “I’m not going to wear this anymore! You can’t make me either!” He roared, leaving the room. Later that day Felix felt bad about yelling at his mother. He also felt bad about making the castle wizard work so hard trying to make his crown stop beeping because it wasn’t on Felix anymore. So the teen walked out of his chamber that his father had sent him to after the outrage in the throne room. As he exited the castle and headed to the gazebo where his mother sometimes went to think, Felix noticed a dark shape creeping around the court yard. What is that, I wonder? Felix thought. The shape crept around corners and snaked towards Felix. What was it? As it came nearer Felix saw that it had the shape of a man, but much smaller. It was only about a foot tall. It had dark clothing on and its hair was dark too. An elf? Felix guessed catching a glint of purple in the dim moonlight. But why would an elf be sneaking around the court yard? Felix didn’t get it. Most creatures were allowed in the palace, with the exceptions of trolls and ogres. Felix then made the mistake of going up to the elf. “Excuse me sir,” he started courteously. Before the boy could finish, the short man in front of him jumped at Felix. The young prince took a step backwards so the elf missed him. The elf grunted as he landed on the hard ground. Dust flew everywhere; it got in Felix’s eyes and all over the elf, coating his purple hair in dirt. The prince coughed and the elf took it as an advantage. Leaping onto the unprepared boy he knocked them both to the ground causing even more dust to fly into the air. (It hadn’t rained for a while.) The two struggled for about five minutes until the experienced elf wore out Felix. The elf knocked the prince unconscious and carried him away. You are probably wondering if I have forgotten about Jeff, Rosie, James, and Abby. As you can see by reading this page, I haven’t forgotten our friends from our world. Well if you are from the same world as Felix, then I haven’t forgotten our friends from my world. So if you keep reading you will eventually see why I have included Felix in the story. So read more if you can’t stand not knowing what is going on. When Felix awoke he was lying on his back. The sight he saw was a clear, blue morning sky, outlined by incredibly tall pine trees. Felix turned over onto his side and saw the elf that had attacked him, cooking bacon in a child sized frying pan. “Pardon me sir, but where have you taken me?” Felix said, trying to be polite to someone who had just kidnapped him. “Oh, so you’re awake are you?” The elf said in a sassy tone, “Well I suppose that you’ll want breakfast too, what do I have to do? Treat you like royalty!” Felix noticed that the elf’s voice was gruffer than most elves. “Um, sir, I didn’t ask you for anything except where I am.” The boy commented. “I guess you didn’t, did you? I hate you sassy teenagers, you always think you’re right.” The elf mumbled this to himself so that Felix could scarcely hear it. “Um, sir, might I ask who you are?” “Guess. I bet you can’t figure it out.” The elf snickered rudely. “Let me think, oh, I don’t know, could it be Rumplestiltskin?” Felix said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Rumplestiltskin chuckled. “I like you kid. You’ve got a good sense of humor. Here I have you tied up good and tight, and you are making cute little witty remarks!” Felix glanced down at his arms, he WAS tied up. How was he going to get away now? His crown! His crown had a tracking spell on it, maybe he could just knock it off and the whole army would come! Oh, but wait, Felix had taken off his crown at the castle yesterday! It was back to the drawing board then. Minutes later the elf that was Rumplestiltskin came over and fed Felix bacon, or he tried. Felix refused to eat the stuff, wondering if it was poisoned. The elf sighed, “Come on Felix, you can trust me, I’m like your uncle or something.” Felix still didn’t eat the bacon. Uncle Stiltskin was a scary thought. Later that day, Rumplestiltskin left Felix alone because the small man needed to look around in case of royal soldiers. When he came back he picked up the young prince. The elf was surprisingly strong for his size. “Hey! Put me down! I CAN walk you know!” Felix demanded. Rumplestiltskin set him down and looked him in the eye. “Alright Felix, I’ll tell you why I borrowed you.” Borrowed, ha! That’s a laugh. “Okay Stiltskin, tell me why you KIDNAPPED me.” “Your mother has no doubt told you about our past of you, me, and her. She tried to break our deal; she guessed my name, blah, blah, and blah. I needed you those fourteen years ago. You see, when I make a deal with someone, it doesn’t usually turn out so good for me. I lose my power to spin straw into gold. It gets passed on to the person I made a deal with. So why did I help your mother? Because I felt bad for the girl, that’s why. Now I need my power back.” Rumplestiltskin said dramatically. “So how does this involve me?” Felix asked dubiously. “Well when I found I didn’t have my powers anymore I decided that there was only one thing left to do. First I gave your mother some gold that I had stored away. Then in return I asked for you. Since the powers get passed on I figured the talent would go to you. The power did go to you and you were as good as mine. Until of course the Queen guessed my name. Do you know how devastated I was?” Felix shook his head. “I need some gold. You want to know why?” The elf moaned. The prince shook his head. “Well there is this lady I know who I owe some money, she gave me until you were old enough to spin and now she wants her money. I didn’t think your parents were going to let me have you and so I borrowed you.” Oh, I guess he did borrow Felix. The elf untied Felix and told him he could go free if he wanted. Felix, being a noble prince, told him that he would help. Rumplestiltskin took Felix to the nearest spinning wheel, which happened to be at the elf’s cottage. The boy tried and tried to learn to spin, but the wheel just wouldn’t work for Felix. Stiltskin groaned. “No, no Felix, the wheel goes the other direction!” It took a while for them to figure out that Felix should just make a deal with Rumplestiltskin. “What kind of deal should we make?” Felix asked. “How about if I give you a sandwich if you sweep my floor.” Felix nodded but remembered that being a prince; he didn’t know how to sweep. He told Rumplestiltskin this. So they decided that Felix would get a sandwich if he wiped the pudding off of Rumplestiltskin. What pudding you ask? The pudding Felix “accidently” spilled on Rumplestiltskin. When Felix cleaned off Stiltskin they immediately tried his powers. The power to spin straw into gold, didn’t work. “Maybe I should get that sandwich for you now.” Rumplestiltskin grunted. So he got Felix a sandwich and they tried again. The power to spin straw into gold worked! The two shook hands and shared the sandwich. “If you ever need anything, let me know, no cost for that.” Stiltskin stated kindly. Felix nodded smiling. They were friends now that they understood each other. As Rumplestiltskin walked Felix home the two noticed that the woods were eerily quiet. “Wow, it sure is quiet.” Felix observed. When the two reached the Enchanted Creek, they were ambushed! Royal soldiers jumped from the trees and tied up Rumplestiltskin. Felix was picked up and set down on a large, white horse. “Hey! What is going on?” Felix demanded, but then he remembered that Stiltskin was still public enemy number one. “Leave him alone! He isn’t all that bad!” The captain of the royal guard sent Felix a look that shut the prince up immediately. Felix gasped as the soldiers tossed the elf into the creek. “He’ll drown!” Felix exclaimed. “That is the point, uh, Your Highness.” Captain said with a hint of hatred. All the boy could do was watch as his new friend struggled in the deep, magical waters. But, hey, Felix was the prince! The captain had to obey him right? “Captain, as your future king, I command you to release that elf!” The captain looked confused that a child was telling all three hundred pounds of muscle that was Captain, what to do! Felix looked at the soldier with an unwavering face. “Hurry up before he drowns.” Then a gear in the large man’s slow brain clicked, and he realized that this small teenager would be his boss someday. So Captain pulled Rumplestiltskin out of the creek and set the elf before Prince Felix. Felix winked at Rumplestiltskin, who, in turn, winked backed. “Set him behind me, Captain.” Felix ordered. So Felix led the troop’s home on his white stallion. Stiltskin frequently turned around and stuck his tongue out at Captain. Now Felix’s only problem was his parents and explaining what had really happened. I finally took a bit of time to sit down and record Chapter 2! And it's just as bizarre as I remember it being. Remember this was written by an 8th grader who had limited access to the internet and had no idea how public school worked. Science? We don't know her. Middle school classes? Most of my middle school education was on the computer on these stupid CD-ROMs that I hated. Realistic children? Don't count on it. But it's all fun anyway! At least I think so. Just like last time, the text version of this chapter is below the video if you feel like reading along! Enjoy! (Or cringe and turn away in horror.) Chapter 2: James and Abby
The football went flying towards his head as James stopped to ponder a science question. I can’t tell you what it was about because I know nothing about science, with the exception of the rule: What goes up must come down. That is exactly what happened in this football practice. The coach threw the ball and it hit James square in the face, well, then again, footballs are oval, so it hit James oval in the face. We’ll just stick to square, because it sounds a lot better. Anyway, James got hit in the face and plummeted to the ground. That also portrayed my rule from above, what goes up must come down. James scuttled to his feet and looked down, yuck, a tooth had fallen out! James bent to pick it up and went to hear the Coach’s complaints. “What were you thinking Kingston?!” Coach barked, “You have to look up to catch the ball! This is the ninth time this WEEK that you haven’t been paying attention!” All the other boys chortled behind their hands. “Sorry Coach, I was thinking about a science question, problem forty-four, ‘is it possible to create worm holes or portals to other worlds.’” James explained, “I think it’s a matter of opinion, but you know scientists these days, always coming up with a new theory.” The Coach actually growled at this. “Kingston, we aren’t the science club! If you like science stuff SO much, go and join the scientists! You’ll have plenty of time for it; you are suspended from the team for four weeks!” James was shocked. How could he be suspended from the team? He was their best player! What would they do in the big Thanksgiving game without him? There was only one thing to do, find Rosie Stone and get his revenge. Abby Gail wasn’t having any better of a day; in fact it might have been worse! She couldn’t decide whether to fry her teacher or roast her, either way would be simply divine. The deliciousness of Ms. Rottencandy would soon be-- whoops, wrong story, again. As I said before nothing too bad happens to anyone. Anyway, Abby was having a horrible day because her advice column in the paper had totally been wrecked because Jeff had come in and seen who was running the column when it was supposed be secret! What if he told? No one would want to tell her their problems anymore! Her dreams of being like Oprah were dwindling! The horror! The horror! (Yes, I did just repeat myself, get over it.) Abby had to find Jeff and make him swear not to tell any person on this earth that she was the Abby of Dear Abby! She rushed down the halls of the school, looking to see if Jeff was still there. When you run fast, looking for something or someone you rarely notice anything or anyone. This is precisely what happened to Abby. She was running so fast that she didn’t see James running quickly at her. James went into the school to see if he could find Rosie because she had been interviewing him in science causing him to miss question forty-four! So now he had a bone to pick with her because she got him suspended from the football team! As he rushed through the school he didn’t notice Abby rushing towards him because as I explained before, you can’t see too well when you are rushing through the halls of your school. Since James couldn’t see Abby running at him and Abby couldn’t see James running towards her, the two applied the law of gravity that I explained earlier. Since those two were standing up, those two must be knocked down, it’s really quite simple, and I just can’t believe you can’t remember it! So James collided with Abby and Abby collided with James. Ouch. When the two arose they were even angrier than they had been--which might not be possible. “Why did you run into me?!” The two said at the same time, “I didn’t run into you! You ran into me!” Again they said it at the same time. “No!” same time again, “I,” same time, “Hey!” this was becoming comical. “Listen,” wow, same exact time, “Stop it!” Finally, James said it this time, “Stop saying the same thing as me at the same time! I’m looking for Rosie Stone; she works on the paper with you, right?” Abby nodded. “She does.” “I have a bone to pick with her,” The muscular child growled. “I’m busy looking for Jeff, that guy whose desk you sit on all the time, I need to find him before…” Abby paused. James looked quizzically at her. “Before what?” “Something bad happens.” “Well I saw Jeff hanging around Rosie; maybe they’re at one of their houses. We can go together and pick their bones at the same time.” James concluded sensibly. So the two enraged children stomped to Jeff’s house. Then upon finding the other two children not there the two left for Rosie’s apartment building. They found them there, watching the news. The two seething kids rejoiced at their find. After the rejoicing stopped they got all malicious and impolite to Jeff and Rosie. “How could you get me suspended from the football team and not know what I’m talking about?” James said mid-way into the conversation, although he was beginning to understand that Rosie had unintentionally got him suspended. But he couldn’t lighten up now that he was angry. “And you Jeffrey, if that IS your real name, how could you not have seen me reading people’s problems? It was right in front of you!” Jeff looked at Rosie and Rosie looked at Jeff, very suspicious if you ask me, but of course, they didn’t ask me, I am, after all, only the author. Later, after a whole lot of arguing you don’t want to hear, all four children had somehow ended up at James house. I believe they got there like this: Jeff started fighting with Abby and James with Rosie, but Mr. Stone got a head ache and told them to play outside. So they all went outside and started walking around. Then, suddenly, James suggested they go to his house because his mom had made apple pie. After that they all stopped arguing because Mrs. Kingston’s delicious pie was crammed in their mouths. The pie was so yummy it caused them to chat good naturedly with each other and become friends. (That must have been some good pie.) The quartet went outside and sat on the lush grass of the Kingston lawn. The neighbors (the next door lady in particular) all looked skeptically at them through their windows because the children talked and laughed so much. The kids had a great time until James’ grandfather emerged from the old outhouse in the corner of the yard. The smell that emanated from the small structure could have killed an elephant! It stank so bad that the kids had to hold their noses in hopes that they wouldn’t lose their sense of smell all together. “Must have been those beans I had for lunch, I’ve been in that hut for about an hour.” Grandpa said, walking inside. The four children on the lawn groaned and ran to close the outhouse door. Whew! The outhouse would bother them no longer. The children started to giggle at the horrid smell, I don’t get what is so funny about almost losing your sense of smell but these kids are quite odd. “Wow! That is one putrid smell!” James said. “Ugh, I can barely breathe!” Jeff gasped. “Why does your grandfather even have an outhouse?” Abby moaned. “Because he thinks that indoor plumbing is too ‘new-fangled’ and ‘it was good enough for the people when I was a boy’.” James mocked while holding his nose, “I know it’s odd but Mom thinks that since it was his house to begin with he should get to do his, uh, ‘business’ where he pleases.” I’m going to stop writing about this rancid smell and skip to what happened next. The four kids started to play ball in James’ smelly backyard. It was so fun that they hardly noticed when the yard started to smell bad again. I have promised you I will not go into that, so the smell’s mention stops here. The long afternoon had the children worn out by the time they had to go home. That night their parents rejoiced, because the kids slept like rocks. In the morning James met Abby, Jeff, and Rosie before school. “Hey you guys want to come over to my house again after school?” James asked. “Yeah, sure.” Was the collective reply. “Cool, meet you there!” James said, leaving for his first class with Jeff trailing behind. In school James was caught off guard by his first class. His science teacher told his class that the biannual science fair was happening in two weeks. James hadn’t even begun to think of a project! What was he going to do? Then he got an idea, a brilliant idea. An idea that this whole story is modeled upon. The only questions he had for his teacher were these: “Can I with work with partners?” he inquired. “Yes James, as long as at least one of them does this class with you. You know, so someone else on your team knows what you’ve been studying as well. ” The teacher explained. “And also, Mr. Smellfoot, what is the correct answer to problem forty-four?” “From the practice we did yesterday?” James nodded. “Well, Mr. Kingston, I believe the answer to that problem is yes. I have always believed that travel to an alternate world is possible with the right equipment, the right people, and imagination.” “Thank you Mr. Smellfoot.” James grinned. Now you and I know that no real science teacher would ever tell a kid to “imagine” something, but Mr. Smellfoot was no ordinary science teacher. Mr. Smellfoot was a science teacher who had also been a substitute Creative Writing teacher, and so he learned that anything is possible with a little imagination. He learned this lesson as Chad, the Creative Writing bully, had stuffed a pencil up Mr. Smellfoot’s nose. James went home happy and started his science fair project. The frame of the thing was done, as were the blueprints. Now he just needed to have a little help from his friends. Until then he decided to hide the thing in the most unusual of places. Later, at James’ house, the four friends sat on the lawn, chatting. The girls were talking about something in the newspaper and Jeff tried to get James to talk about some story that he had read earlier. James didn’t really listen to any of it, mostly because he was trying to get his own two cents in. That means he was trying to tell them something himself, but the others were busy putting at least ten cents in. A loud rupture caused them all to stop talking and stare at the outhouse. “What was that?” Abby demanded. “I don’t know. Whatever it was it came from the outhouse.” James said with a mysterious smirk. The other three kids snuck over to the outhouse to see what had made the loud noise. James remained seated on the grass, snickering silently. You, “dear” reader may be expecting it was the Grandfather of James that caused the loud noise of the outhouse, but you, reader, are wrong. It was not a gas leak from the Grandpa that caused this “boom” in the outhouse, but a machine frame. The kids saw this as James pried the walls off the old privy. The kids gasped and asked about a million questions at once, mainly, “What is it, and how did it make that noise?” James “shushed” them with a wave of his hands. “Come on people! Not so many questions at once! This is what I like to call the M.T.M.” The rest of the kids looked just as confused as they had before, then James explained, “Magical (even though it isn’t magic) Transport Machine.” The kids appeared to be perplexed so James continued, “When it is finished it should be able to take us to a different world! And it probably just made that noise because I left it turned on.” As the gang grasped this information they all started to talk again. “You mean we can go to a different world?!” “How is that possible?” “When will it be finished?” Blah, blah, blah, they were really enthusiastic. James did his best to explain everything but the questions were too many. “Um, it will be finished sooner if you help me with it, and I really need you guys’ help.” The questions stopped for a second, but then everyone wanted to know how they could help. “Well, Jeff has two jobs, first he just needs to stay in science class with me so that I can have you guys’ help. Secondly, Jeff needs to not lose his memory of fairytales, we’ll need that. Abby needs to get us costumes. Your mom owns a medieval themed restaurant right?” Abby nodded, her mother owned the coolest restaurant ever, and it had waitresses dressed as damsels and waiters dressed as pages. NOT the paper kind. “Good, we’ll need you to get us some old costumes that your mom doesn’t need anymore. Rosie, you have one of the most important jobs. You have helped your dad fix his car wash before and I will need that mechanical help because I have no idea how to work tools.” James’ friends nodded and smiled, they got to help build one of the most amazing machines of all time! The kids could not wait. Before I told you that it wasn’t a story about kids who go on cutesy adventures. It still isn’t, don’t worry all you dark readers, it won’t get cute, just like I promised. BUT I didn’t promise I wouldn’t add more characters. Thank you, Lord that I was finally able to upload this. Good golly it has been a struggle to get this thing to cooperate. I finally got it filmed, edited, exported from iMovie, and now uploaded. God is good! And this writing is terrible! Please laugh at my middle school self with me as I dramatically read through Fairy Tale Time, Chapter 1. This first chapter is dull, but things start to pick up in the next one, which I will hopefully post soon! If you would like to purchase a copy of the book (do not feel obligated to do so) you can visit the "My Writing" tab above. Or, if you'd like to read along for free, see the text below the video! Just keep in mind that I have not edited the formatting or grammar since I was in the 8th grade. Make of that what you will. Chapter 1: Jeff and Rosie Every story has its own beginning. This one starts as so: Once upon a time--no wait, those stories usually end up something like: happily ever after. Okay, retake: It was a dark and stormy night-but hey, that’s not accurate, as a matter of fact it was quite the opposite! Here we go again: It was a bright and sunny day… Yeah, that’s it. So now we have the beginning, let’s get this story moving, shall we? It was a bright, crisp, fall day. The leaves were at their best, sweet smelling in an assortment of reds and yellows. Jeff loved it that way. His favorite part of the day was upon him, walking to school. There is nothing like the satisfying, CRUNCH, of leaves beneath your feet. It looks like a Robin Hood kind of day. He thought. You might be like, “A Robin Hood kind of day? What on earth does that mean?!” I’ll tell you what that means. Well one thing you should know about Jeff is that he loves to read. He likes anything with a fairytale kind of view. Knowing this you should also know that Jeff reads on his way to school. So “It looks like a Robin Hood kind of day” means that Jeff is going to read Robin Hood on his way to school. Now you might be wondering, HOW it can look like a Robin Hood kind of day, and though your wonderings are annoying, I will answer this. “It looks like a Robin Hood kind of day” also means that Jeff thinks that the walk to school looks like Sherwood Forest. What’s that? You have another question! What is Sherwood Forest?! Well it is clear that you don’t read many a fairytale! Perhaps you should give this book to a more experienced fairy tale reader--but hey, you got me off point! Sherwood is simply where Robin Hood lives. Now, no more wonderings or questions! I have a story to tell! Where was I? Oh yeah! Jeff pulled a leather bound book out of his back-pack and started to read all about Robin and his merry men. The book was a gift from Jeff’s grandmother. She had known he loved books and gave him one from her vast private library. As Jeff was walking he glanced up from his book and saw a girl walking beside him, leaning over and reading along with him. “Hey! Would you PLEASE stop that?!” Jeff exclaimed. “I beg your pardon?” Oh great, it was that snooping reporter girl. Her and her big glasses and pig tails were always pinning someone down for an interview. She might be the only girl who was liked less than Jeff in their school (Washington Jr. High)! The only difference was that SHE had friends. “Would you stop reading my book?” Jeff answered more calmly. “Sorry, just trying to figure out what it was, the title must have rubbed off or something.” The girl said, “It’s pretty boring whatever it is, a lot of thy and thou in there.” You don’t have to tell me, I was the one reading it. Jeff thought angrily, “Yes, well it IS a very old book.” “So, what story is it?” “Robin Hood.” Jeff mumbled. The girl was silent for a long while and Jeff was grateful for the reading time. Once the pair got to the school the girl ran off and took a picture of some teacher pulling in on a motorcycle. Jeff put his book away and headed for his first class. After school Jeff started home but was stopped by the reporter girl. “Hi, it’s me again.” I can tell. He thought. “I was feeling kind of bad about wrecking your reading time this morning and I thought that I should at least introduce myself. I’m Rosie.” She said, thrusting her hand towards Jeff. He turned it down, seeing ink dripping off of her already messy arm. “Um, I’m Jeffrey, but all of my family calls me Jeff.” “Cool, my name is really Rosetta but all my peeps call me Rosie.” “Peeps?” “Uh, my friends.” Ah friends, Jeff would give anything to have some other boys to hang around with. (I’m glad I’m not that lonely.) “Your friends… oh, I see. You’re on the school paper, right?” Jeff inquired blankly. “Yeah, I’m the girl who writes all the front page stuff!” She said smugly. Jeff nodded and continued to walk towards his home. Rosie followed. “If you want to read again I can leave you alone.” Rosie asked awkwardly. Jeff was going to yell out, “leave me alone!” But he remembered that this strange reporter was the only kid in the school who had even bothered to talk to him. “That’s okay; it’s nice that someone isn’t worried about being seen hanging out with me.” Rosie looked questioningly at him. “What do you mean?” “Well most kids just don’t want to talk to me, maybe because I read so much or something of the sort.” Rosie looked sympathetic. “That’s too bad. I think you’re nice.” The girl said with a sheepish grin. When Jeff got home he opened the gate to his front yard and looked around. Good, no sign of King. King was Jeff’s dog. He was a Great Dane and loved to jump all over Jeff and slobber on him, Jeff wasn’t as joyful to see the dog, mostly because King loved to knock him to the ground. Rosie looked around, “What are we looking for?” “I want to make sure my dog doesn’t tackle me.” “So why are you whispering?” Rosie whispered. “I don’t want King to hear me.” “You mean the dog, right?” Jeff didn’t answer because he saw King running out of the house! “Duck!” Jeff called. The kids ducked as King landed on top of Jeff. “Oof!” The boy groaned under the weight of the hundred pound dog. King licked Jeff and sniffed Rosie. Rosie was giggling the whole time. “So, you want to get a snack from my mom? She has a policy that whoever King tackles gets a snack.” Jeff laughed. The twosome went into the old Victorian styled home and walked towards the kitchen, with Jeff leading the way. In the large, warm kitchen a woman stood making cookies by the oven. “Hi honey, how did school go?’” she said turning to see them, “Oh, you brought a friend! How nice, what is your name dear?” Jeff’s mom probed. “I’m Rosie.” “Finally, Jeff has a friend! He always seems so lonely with nothing but books.” The plump mother cooed. The kind woman sat them down at the table and gave them each a chocolate-chip cookie and a glass of milk. They thanked her and she went back to her baking. After they devoured the cookies they went into the living room and turned on the TV. “There are never any good shows on around this time.” Jeff said glumly. Rosie nodded. “There is never anything to do after school.” Since they had nothing else to do Rosie suggested that the two question each other about themselves. They started with questions such as, “What is your favorite ice cream flavor?” and important things like that and then they got silly and asked foolish questions like, “What is your favorite hobby?”, and “What do you think of this sports team?” The two found themselves in giggles and then laughter. One time they even cackled. All and all they had a great time questioning each other. (Not the funniest activity if you ask me, but they didn’t ask me so I have no say in the matter.) They had such a great time that when Rosie’s dad called her cellphone to tell her to come home, they even seemed disappointed. Rosie asked if he wanted to come over to her place the next day so he could meet her dad. Jeff said sure and that they should walk home together again, unless, of course, something or someone totally destroyed their friendship in twenty-four hours or less. So Rosie went home and Jeff ate dinner. What a fine dinner it was, pizza from Fast Delivery Frank, with lots of extra meat. What a great day, or so Jeff thought, because really Rosie was a vampire trying to drink Jeff’s blood, oh how good that would taste! She concealed herself in the house, ready for Jeff’s demise, hoping for a taste of--oops, wrong story; it was actually a great day for Jeff. Don’t worry, this is not a horror story, nothing too bad happens to anybody. The next day Rosie and Jeff walked to school and talked about the story of Robin Hood. “Who is your favorite character?” Rosie asked Jeff. “Hmmm… I think Robin Hood himself, but then and again I really like Little John, how about you?” “I don’t know, I never really read the book, I just saw the movie.” Rosie said with a shrug. “Ha! The movie isn’t anything like the book! Not at all I tell you! I’ll lend my book to you sometime.” As they continued to walk to school Rosie looked uncomfortable. “Hey Jeff, what would you do if I, um, put everything I asked you about yesterday in the paper?” Jeff’s face was a mix of bewilderment and anger. I can’t say that I blame him. “You put that stuff in the school newspaper! How could you?! I didn’t think that you would, I mean, why?!” “Because my editor thought my stories should be so students can relate to it better. I thought it would be good to do an interview with a kid and see how the people who read it would react. So I walked home with you and interviewed you secretly. I’m sorry, but I thought you might like it because it might make you more popular.” “And how would this make me more popular?!” Jeff griped. “Um, well I thought people would like you if they got to know you better.” Rosie said meekly. Jeff stomped off and went to class. In class James, the jock, was showing off again. He was sitting on Jeff’s desk showing his muscles to everybody. As usual at least two girls had swooned and landed on the floor. Why don’t people ever catch those cheerleaders? Jeff pondered, stepping over them. “Um James, you’re sitting on my desk again.” Jeff said, groaning just a tad. “Yeah, I know. It has the best light.” “Come on, class is about to start!” James hopped down and shoved Jeff. “Well sorry buddy but I like it here.” “I need my desk back, James.” Jeff said, his temper rising. James laughed jollily. “I was just messing with you, here you go, one well-lit desk.” Jeff sat down and pulled out his book. What could go wrong while he was in Robin Hood’s world? If only he could visit more often. Little did he know that his wishes were to be granted, soon. Later, in the hallway, Jeff picked up a newspaper and read: JEFF ROBERTS, ONE SPECIAL STUDENT. BY ROSETTA STONE SOME OF YOU MAY NEVER HAVE HEARD OF JEFF ROBERTS BUT AFTER YOU READ THIS YOU’RE GOING TO WISH YOU HAD. JEFF IS A GREAT DUDE, REMARKABLE IF YOU ASK ME. JEFF KNOWS A LOT ABOUT FAIRYTALES AND NEAT FACTS THAT I BET YOU DIDN’T KNOW… There was more but Jeff didn’t bother to read it, he had to go find Rosie and apologize for blowing up at her earlier. The newspaper hadn’t said what he thought it would say. Jeff thought Rosie had just wanted to be his friend for the interview and then forget about him. He thought that she was going to put the embarrassing stuff that he had told her about; like that he had a stuffed bear. If I were the reporter I would totally put that juicy information in the paper, but alas, I am not a school newspaper reporter. When Jeff found Rosie she was in the classroom that the school used for the newspaper editing room. She was in there working over a computer, a click here a letter there. Jeff went in and a girl looked up. “Excuse me; do you work with the press? I didn’t think so. Now you leave, good-bye!” She said quickly while waving good-bye. Then Rosie looked up. “Hey Abby, let him come in, he’s the one I interviewed.” The girl named Abby flicked her blond hair angrily, but let Jeff pass. “Hi, um, I wanted to apologize for getting mad at you earlier, I should have read the paper before I assumed that you had written awful stuff about me, I’m really sorry.” Jeff mumbled. Rosie smiled. “And I’m sorry too. I should have told you that I was putting you in the paper. It was wrong of me to assume.” The two laughed at each other. After school, Rosie led Jeff to her apartment building and inside he met Mr. Stone, a great whale of a man, and always a jolly fellow. They had potato chips and pop and watched Rosie’s favorite TV show, the five o’clock news. Later Rosie showed Jeff her harmless pet snake, Charlie. Well I think it was harmless, no one got hurt anyway. All in all they had a nice and lovely time. Oh, that’s redundant you say? Here, I’ll revise: All in all they had a pleasant time. There. Now you might be starting to think that this is a darling little story where two children go on cute adventures together, grow up, and get married. It’s not. I don’t know if they get married, perhaps so but if you want to find that out you’re going to need a crystal ball and fortune teller because I simply don’t know. You might be getting the notion that I don’t like you because I keep talking to you so harshly. It’s not you, it’s just these ideas you have need to be corrected so that you don’t get the wrong idea. Another thing that you got wrong is that there are two children. That is positively incorrect. There is more than two, you just wait and see. One of the most difficult and frustrating situations as an author is wanting to write something and being unable to think of a word to put on the page. Yesterday, I had fragments of stories that I wanted to write, but whenever I started a story or tried to add to an old story I got stuck. I hated every word that I wrote and I ended up deleting more snippets of stories than I probably should have. After my billionth scrapped idea, I vented to my younger brother about how frustrated I was with my writing and then we came up with an idea. I gave him a piece of paper and told him to go write four things on it. I didn't give him any parameters for what he could write. It could have been objects, people, random adjectives or verbs—it didn't matter. Just four things. He came back a few minutes later with a list and then I asked him for a song to set the mood of the story (this brother has pretty different musical taste than I do most days so I knew I would get a song I hadn't listened to a thousand times before). With the list of four things in hand and the song cued up, I started writing. I also told my brother to check in with me again after dinner to give myself somewhat of a timeline to work with (it definitely took me longer than that, but it was good to have an end time to aim for). Then I just started writing. I'm not 100% happy with what came of this experiment, but I am glad that I actually wrote something. So, if you are a writer or an artist I am challenging you to do the same thing. Ask someone for four things and a song and then just go and create! You don't have to share it, but I'd love it if you did. This probably won't get big enough that we will need it, but if you do want to share what you created (which can literally be anything: story, drawing, painting, sculpture, script, video, blog post, textile work, popsicle stick creation, or whatever) then please tag it with #corriescreativechallenge so I can see! And then go and challenge someone else to do it to! It doesn't matter how it turns out, it just matters that you get something made. Without further ado, here is the story I wrote. Four things picked by my little brother: 1. A pink bag 2. Bruised apples 3. Fake daisies 4. A knife "pouch" (or sheath) Song picked by my little brother: Flora's Secret by Enya https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gObUqHsxc5A Story: The Baroness (Be warned that there is some brief violence in this story!) High heels clicked on a floor so polished that it reflected the thousands of candles in the ballroom. Skirts swished and the smell of heavy perfume permeated the air. Grins stretched across faces, cracking layers of makeup and showing off teeth that were as polished as the floors. Elaborate hairstyles began to lean and collapse as sweat trickled down the backs of necks. In this thick cloud of celebration an airy song played, keeping every dancer in order as they waltzed. Amidst all of the gracefully gliding nobility and stern faced staff there was one attendee of the ball that should not have been there. Deep inside the gilded room there was a table adorned with a pure white cloth and delicate mountains of hors d'oeuvres. Underneath it, watching the pointed toes of regal, blistering shoes, sat a girl of sixteen. Her name was Wisteria Gundrun, but any friends that she might have had called her Ria (or Wist if they wanted to annoy her). She knew that she should not be hiding under a table at the most prestigious event of the year, but she could not leave now. Particularly because someone would undoubtedly notice a girl dressed in common clothes amongst the enormous gowns of the ladies of the court and question her presence. So, she sat under the table, hungry, but too scared to try and swipe one of the sticky treats above her. The dancing would last another hour at the very least before the brightly colored birds of the court would adjourn for their meal. Once they had eaten as much as their corsets and waistcoats would allow they would find their way back to the dance floor, but Ria would be long gone by then—hopefully with full pockets. She simply had to wait until the host of the party summoned his guests into the dining hall and she could slip out from under the table, eat a few confections, and then take what she came for. Before any of this could transpire, however, the tablecloth was lifted. Ria’s heartbeat paused for a moment, but no curious aristocrat or fierce guard poked their head under the table to spy her. Instead, a thin, ring covered hand dropped a pink bag under the table and a foot (presumably attached to the same body as the hand) gave the bag a light kick so that it was farther under the table and not able to be seen by any passerby. When the tablecloth lowered again Ria allowed herself a relieved breath before inching closer to the bag. Made of fine silk and covered in shimmering jewels and embroidery, the bag appeared to be a woman’s purse with a long beaded strap. Ria knew she ought to leave it be, but the mystery of its sudden appearance prompted her to open it. Inside, she found a compact mirror, a dance card, a fan, and a sheath for a small knife. The knife itself was missing. Unsure of what this meant for the owner of the purse or herself, Ria put everything back and crawled away from the bag in case someone came looking for it. After endless stretching minutes, a bell finally sounded, summoning the dancers to their dinner. From the scents wafting in the direction of the dining hall, Ria could guess that some sort of fish was on the menu. Apart from two overly enthusiastic dancers who were moving as if they had never heard of dancing or music before but quite enjoyed it, everyone cleared out of the ballroom. Peeking from under the tablecloth, Ria saw that even the two with the terrible dancing skills were soon escorted from the room and only servants were left. The servants were busy collecting hairpins and other bobbles that had fallen from the dancers during the more vigorous songs. With their backs bent to their task they did not notice Ria slide out behind the table and stuff a caramelized onion and apple tart in her mouth. The taste was wretchedly wealthy, but she swallowed it down anyway before filling her pockets with more appetizing appetizers. When she spotted untouched chocolate covered something or other she could barely stop herself from carrying the whole tray away from the unappreciative aristocracy. That plot became especially tempting when the servants left her alone in the room with no one to stop her. Pockets and mouth full, she realized that her pilfered picnic would make it difficult to transport what she actually needed to steal. Her thoughts turned to the pink bag under the table and before she could think too long about it she dropped back into her hiding spot and reached for the bag. At the same time her hand closed around the strap, a familiar ring covered hand snatched at the body of the purse. When met with resistance, the ring covered hand tugged harder and the owner of the hand lifted the tablecloth. Ria flinched back as she locked eyes with a woman. The woman had a face that would have been smooth as porcelain if sweat had not left tracks through the white powder. Her lips were red as pomegranate seeds, her cheeks as pink as a sunburn, and by her right eye she sported an inky black heart shaped mole. A thin, penciled-on brow lifted a notch as her brown eyes took in the girl under the table. Under all of the makeup, the clearly noble woman looked only slightly older than Ria. “I’m meant to be here,” Ria blurted quickly. “Clearly, otherwise you wouldn’t feel the need to tell me that you are,” the woman quipped, “You should have started with ‘you dropped your purse, ma’am’ and I might have believed you a servant despite your lack of uniform… and shoes. Where are your shoes? It is chilly outside.” “Shoes make too much noise,” Ria responded without thinking and then cursed herself, “Not that I need to be sneaking around or nothing, but… seen not heard… is, uh, what I should be. Since I’m a servant. You know.” “So you’re stealing my ploy now, are you?” The woman adjusted her crouched position, pushing her enormous golden skirt behind her so she could balance better, “I’ll hardly believe it now. You’d better just give up the real reason you’re here because now I’m curious.” “I am a serving girl, ma’am. I’m meant to be here, I swear it.” “Don’t you know you aren’t supposed to make oaths you can’t keep? Out with it. Why are you really here? I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re afraid of. I’m on my own secret mission and I’ll need you to keep quiet about seeing me as well.” Ria frowned, but decided it would not be the end of the world to tell one nosy noble what she was up to. Besides, with such a cumbersome dress and unstable shoes, this woman could hardly chase after her if she decided to run. “I’m here for food and… the necklace.” Both of the woman’s brows rose this time and she tilted her head as if trying to solve a puzzle. With her head tilted a ringlet of white powdered hair slipped from its updo and Ria caught a glimpse of faux flowers pinned to the woman’s head. They looked to be silk daisies to match her gold and white dress and pink roses to go with her purse. “The necklace? Surely you don’t mean the Pendant of Peace. A symbol of the goodwill between our country and our terribly violent neighbors to the north? The gift brought by ambassadors to mark a peace treaty to save thousands of lives? The reason for the celebration tonight? You don’t mean that necklace, do you?” “Yes,” Ria replied firmly, “The price it fetches in the south should be enough to support the families who suffered loss after loss during the war with the north.” “Ah, you are a little revolutionary? Not fond of how our king has treated the commoners, hmm?” The woman grinned, “I don’t blame you. He is a complete idiot.” A thought struck Ria and she pulled the purse toward her again. “What’s with the empty sheath? Where is the knife?” “You went through my things? That was very rude of you,” the noblewoman pouted. “What are you doing with the knife?” “I hate to spoil the surprise, but after tonight you won’t have to worry about our illustrious incompetant ruler anymore,” the woman’s smile turned wicked and a beautiful knife appeared from nowhere and twirled around her knuckles. “You’re… you’re going to kill the king?” “Shush shush,” she placed the flat of the blade against her lips, “Don’t let that secret out please or I’ll be forced to report you to the guards.” Ria stared at the woman, but was unable to form words. “Now, you may keep my purse and use the jewels on it for those poor, poor families affected by the war. It will also be a wonderful hiding place for the Pendant of Peace, which is on display in the portrait gallery through that door over there,” she gestured with her knife, “I’ll distract the guards from that room and when you see them rush out you run in and take the Pendant, put it in this purse, climb out the window—can you climb?” “Yes,” Ria huffed indignantly, “How do you think I got in here earlier?” “Excellent. Climb out the window and make sure you hide the purse inside your shirt or your petticoat or your bloomers or somewhere, understand? Then head for the gate. The guards there might yell at you, but just tell them you were running an errand for Baroness Flora Chastain and they should let you pass.” Ria nodded, somewhat annoyed that this extravagantly dressed aristocrat could form a better plan for theft than she, a trained thief, could. She was about to respond to the instructions when another voice joined their conversation. “Dear Baroness, what are you doing under the table?” The woman’s eyes widened and she mouthed a swear word. Hiding the knife in the folds of her skirt and motioning for Ria to proceed with the plan, she put a smile on her face and stood up. “Your Most Regal Majesty, I was simply searching for my purse. I thought I might have dropped it earlier and then the idea crossed my mind that it may have been kicked under the table during that rather zesty gavotte. Alas, I cannot find it anywhere.” Ria listened to the conversation as she slipped out from under the table. She peered through the mountains of hors d'oeuvres and spotted the king, wearing a sickly shade of green with enough gold trim to provide food for a small family for a few years. The baroness had sunk into a curtsy in front of him and not risen yet. When he motioned for her to rise she carefully stepped away from the table so that the king was facing toward the room and not toward Ria. The girl took the opportunity to slip closer to the door of the portrait gallery and hide behind a potted fern as big as a horse’s rear. There, she waited to see if the baroness would still bring the guards from the gallery or if Ria would have to find a way to distract them on her own. She wondered what sort of distraction the noblewoman could possibly cause with the king now in the room, but that question was answered shortly. There was a flash of silver and gold, an explosion of red, and the screams of the baroness. Ria felt sick at seeing the king crumple to the ground, even if she hated the things he’d done to the country. Thoughts of his younger brother, now alone in the world, flashed through her mind and she wondered if the boy would be made king or if the baroness meant to topple the monarchy entirely. Ria’s thoughts did not linger on this long. The three guards from the portrait gallery came rushing to the baroness’s side as she wailed in distress. Moving quickly, Ria was about to slip into the gallery when she heard something that made her blood run cold. “It was her!” The baroness shrieked, “That peasant was hiding under the table and she ambushed us! She took my purse and used my dagger to stab the king!” Ria looked first at the purse she’d slung over her shoulder and then at the guards. They hesitated half a second before racing toward her. Yelping in shock and terror, Ria sprinted into the gallery and snatched the Pendant of Peace from its velvet cushion, stuffed it in the pink bag, and dove out the window. Luckily, it was not far to fall and, though she was fairly certain she heard something crack, she was too filled with adrenaline to stop and take inventory of her wounds. Running as fast as she was able, she made it to the front gate before the guards could catch up to her and she stuffed the purse into her shirt as the treacherous baroness had suggested. In an attempt to catch her breath and appear presentable, she forced a smile and made her trembling legs slow to a walk. At the gate she came face to face with two more guards. They had pleasant expressions on their faces and smiled back at her. “Good evening,” she nodded to them, “I was running an errand for the Baroness Flora Ch...uh...Charity. Chastain! Baroness Chastain. My employer.” “All wrapped up for the evening then?” One of the guards asked. “Yes. I won’t be back tonight. Time to go eat my own dinner, though it won’t be anywhere near as fancy as the food in there,” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder and chuckled, “I think I saw a whole swan on the table in there! Feathers stuck back on it and everything!” “Aristocrats,” the guard shook his head and opened the gate, “None of that for me, I’m happy with a warm mug of cider and maybe a roast lamb chop.” “I agree,” she put her hand to her stomach, “If only I had more than a loaf of bread in the cupboard, eh?” She moved forward, terrified that the gate would slam closed at any minute and she would be caught for the crime she committed as well as the one she had been framed for. As she passed through the gate it took all of her willpower to keep from running and hiding somewhere she would never be found. “Wait a minute!” The guard called and Ria prepared to run. Slowly turning to face him, she smiled again. “Yes?” “Here, take this. I might be able to get some leftovers from the kitchen. My sister works there,” the guard tossed a bruised apple at her and she caught it, thinking of the fanciful snacks stuffed in her pockets. “Thank you.” “Have a good night, miss.” “And you as well,” she nodded and walked away. As soon as she was out of sight of the guards, she broke into a run and did not stop until she was home. There she was greeted by her actual employer who asked if she had captured the Pendant. Ria tossed the pink bag at him, collected her thief’s fee, and hunkered down in her room for the rest of the night. She was not quite sure how to break the news that she had gone from rebellious theft to prime suspect for regicide, but perhaps that was something she ought to keep to herself. No one ever needed to know that she had been there. No one apart from Wisteria Gundrun and the brilliant, bloody Baroness Flora Chastain. Thank you for reading! I hope you participate in "Corrie's Creative Challenge" and that you enjoy it! :D Hey there! I wrote this short story back in December and just came across it in my story file recently. I had fun writing this and got a laugh or two out of reading it again so I thought I'd share it. I hope you enjoy!
Let’s be honest here, he was a cool dude. He was dressed dapperly in an all black suit, black button up shirt, and a black tie. His hair was messy enough that it looked like he didn’t care at all about his appearance, but styled enough that he’d probably spent half an hour getting it to be perfectly ruffled. On his face he wore one of those smirks that let you know that he was easily amused and that he wanted you to think he was smarter than you about every single aspect of everything. The dapper look was only half of his coolness though. His attitude was so cool that when he walked down the street you could feel a tangible suaveness in the air around him. His feet in those shoes that could have worked at a formal party or for running on the roofs of buildings danced down the sidewalk with a swagger in his step. The way he slid aviator sunglasses onto his face (to hide any sloppy emotions that his eyes might give away) was so slick that he could do it while simultaneously walking and reading a text from his phone. He spoke to people politely, but there was an edge to his voice that told you the moment he stopped being polite he would make you feel like dirt. Most people felt like dirt when standing next to him anyway. He was cool obsidian and everyone around him was gum on the bottom of a shoe. Not his shoe, of course, he was too smooth to ever step in gum. His presence was ridiculously unsettling. No one wanted to feel like old gum. Everyone wanted to impress him when he stepped into a room. Backs straightened, chins lifted, hands were thrown in pockets, and surfaces were leaned on in an attempt to look casual. When he didn’t even glance at anyone it was clear that he was not interested in their brief facade of confidence. That’s exactly what happened when he strolled into the Coffee Cave during my morning shift that fateful Wednesday. I was frantically trying to restock the lids when he came in, but I didn’t see him for a moment. The lids were giving me a hard time and I was beginning to get frustrated with them and worried because the customers were starting to harass my shift partner, Sadie, about getting their orders so that they could get to work. None of those orders had lids yet. Everyone went dead quiet when he walked into the little shop, but I still didn’t look up, glad that there was some silence as I was trying to get the darned lids to stay in their dispenser. When I finally did glance up I was so startled by his presence that I made the mistake of loosening my hold on the lids. The spring in the dispenser shot forward and fired coffee cup lids onto the floor. Which seemed about right because it is always when you want to put your best, coolest self forward that the awkward clumsy part of you decides to rear its head. I was just glad that I hadn’t spilled cappuccino on my apron or had another run in with the Evil Whip Cream Spray Bottle of Doom. Sadie hissed something at me and I quickly stooped to clean up the lids. Except, that wasn’t what Sadie had told me to do. She had told me to forget the lids and just work on getting orders filled. So I kicked the lids and did as she asked, trying not to stare at the pure coolness that had walked into the Coffee Cave. Other people were trying not to stare, I could tell. We were all pretending that we hadn’t just been graced by the presence of suavity incarnate. And he was pretending not to notice our menial existence. Actually, he might not have been pretending. No one else in the building was anyone worth paying attention to. When he finally got up to the register to make his order, the music over the shop speakers changed from the usual peppy-indie-feel-good drivel that drove me crazy day after day. Instead of listening to some hardly known artist singing about how she was going to make the most of her life, we were suddenly listening to music with a beat that you could just picture the guy walking down the street to, possibly while causing his enemies to disintegrate into ashes of boringness. It was the kind of music that made me wish I’d worn my combat boots to work instead of the no-slip, old person, velcro sneakers I had on. Combat boots would be much better for walking around with this music playing. “Welcome to the Coffee Cave,” Sadie said to him. Her expression was a mixture of a tight smile and a wince. It was like her face muscles did not know how to react to the man in front of her. “What can I getcha?” “Hmm,” he looked at the chalkboard menu behind her and then glanced at me as I clutched a bottle of caramel sauce. I clutched it too hard and it made a wheezing-fart sound before spitting a blob of caramel onto my chin. He winked at me and I hastily looked away, firing the caramel sauce into the intended beverage and wiping my chin off with the back of my hand. “I will have a large cup of black coffee, decaf,” he said. His voice was so smooth that I swear the whole shop leaned in closer to hear more of his speech. He had a British accent, of course, because there is no place on this earth that produces a more awe inspiring accent than Great Britain. “A large black coffee, decaf.” Sadie blinked at him in confusion, though I don’t know why. Obviously this guy would not get a drink with any frills. And caffeine was for losers like the rest of the human race who needed coffee to stay awake. He was clearly already awake. He probably just wanted the coffee for the bitter taste. “That’s what I said, love,” he chuckled. “What does that come to?” Sadie blinked once more to get her mind back on track and finished the transaction. “Uh, what’s the name?” She asked, getting a large cup and her Sharpie. “Jax,” he smiled and his teeth were perfectly white and straight, “with an ‘X’.” I think everyone took in a collective breath as if to inhale the beautiful absurdity of the unusual name. Sadie scribbled it onto the cup and passed the little paper vessel to me to fill. Even though I had other orders that I was working on. Even though there were several people who needed their drinks before he did. Needless to say, those drinks were ignored while I prepared a large black decaffeinated coffee. When the cup was filled I got a clean lid from the back and put it on. Reverently carrying the drink over to the spot where Jax with an X was meant to pick up his order, I did my best to avoid eye contact, knowing it would inevitably lead to tripping or spilling. When I was at a point where there was no way an accident could happen, I held out the cup to him and, with a trembling voice spoke his name to the crowd even though we all knew who the cup was for. “Thanks,” he leaned forward and peered at my name tag, “Sheryl.” “You’re welcome,” I said. It was at that moment that I meant to release the large black decaf coffee into his hand, but his hand wasn’t were it was supposed to be and I missed. My fingers no longer held onto the cup, but he wasn’t holding it yet. The coffee dropped as if in slow motion and I was sure it was going to hit the floor and explode everywhere, but at the last second his foot shot out and balanced the coffee cup on the toes of his leather shoes. This time the gasp in the coffee shop was audible. “You’re a clumsy one, aren’t you?” He laughed and, on cue, my face turned the color of a tomato and felt like it needed a good dowsing from a fire extinguisher. With the skills of a World Cup player, he flung the steaming hot beverage from his foot and caught it in his hand. He then took a long drink from it, which made me wonder if he was even mortal. The cup said “CAUTION, CONTENTS HOT” for a reason. “For your troubles, love,” he said as he dropped a twenty in the tip jar and I could see it was folded into an origami crane. Because he couldn’t just leave a tip like a mere human, he had to do it in a way that demonstrated that he was so sure of himself that he was not ashamed to do a delicate paper folding art. I think I saw another customer swoon. “Thanks,” I replied, dumbfounded by his enormous tip. Most people just dropped their change from their cash transactions in the tip jar, but I think we’ve established that Jax with an X is not most people. He winked again and did a finger gun in a non-ironic but somehow still hip way. Just like that, he was headed for the exit of the shop and probably also the exit from our menial everyday lives. We had been visited by awesomeness and no one in the Coffee Cave felt like their lives would ever amount to anything even a fraction of whatever his life must have been like. He opened the door and I spotted a large black dot slowly fall on a thread down toward his face. The dot could only be the huge, black spider that lived above the door that all of the staff pretended was dead so that we wouldn’t have to deal with it. Perhaps we would no longer have to even pretend. Jax with an X would surely slay the arachnid before he parted ways with our humble establishment. Except… he didn’t. The spider crawled down its web and landed peacefully on Jax with an X’s face. Both the spider and the man were still for a moment and then the man turned back toward us and we could see the creature on his nose. “Excuse me, Sheryl?” he said to me. “Yes?” I answered breathlessly. “What is on my nose?” “A spider, sir.” “A. Spi. Der?” “Yes, sir.” The sound that emanated from Jax with an X’s mouth reminded me of an internet compilation video that featured the famous screaming goats. It echoed through the building and shook us all to our respective cores. As the shrieks continued, his arms flew into the air and the coffee that he had so nimbly caught erupted and splashed on the floor and on the man as well. Luckily, the coffee hit the spider and it flung itself from Jax with an X’s face. Unluckily, Jax with an X was too busy running in panicked circles to realize that the spider was gone. He continued to scream at the top of his lungs and his hands brushed at his face furiously. When he finally saw that the spider was on the ground, he leapt onto a table with all the grace of someone who spent hours learning parkour. The table really wasn’t meant to be leapt on, however, and it tipped over. Jax with an X went sprawling on the floor and landed inches away from the spider, causing more screaming. Unsure of what to do with the coolest man I’d ever seen wailing like a toddler on Santa’s lap at the mall, I cautiously made my way over to him and stepped on the spider, twisting my foot a bit to make sure the deed was final. The screams stopped and Jax with an X, who was now covered in coffee and whatever dirt had been on the floor, quickly got to his feet and swaggered out the door without a look back. The Coffee Cave never saw him again. Hi humans and extraterrestrials! Hope you are all doing well this fine day! I know I am! Sorta... BUT that's not important. What is important is that I have a novel. One that I'm writing. For real this time. This is not a drill. I've been working on it for a while and I am getting so hyped for it. This is going to be one of those over-hyped novels, except the only one over-hyping it will be me, the author. And maybe my family *waves* HI ASSORTED FAMILY MEMBERS (I'm not saying my dreams rest on you guys, but... all my dreams rest on you guys)! At this point I have the rough draft finished and I have pushed my way through the first round of editing due to the encouragement of a dear friend *waves* HI FRIEND (I'm not saying you are the only reason I got through the first round of editing, but... you are the only reason I got through the first round of editting)! I'm currently working on the super fun process of going through my hard copy of the rough draft and completely retyping it. It is a long, strenuous ordeal, but it is really helpful. This way I can catch all the little things that I missed in Round 1 of edits. In order to keep myself from going crazy whilst doing this, I make myself seem like I'm crazy. That is, I read the story aloud as I retype it. In various accents, some of which may or may not come across as mildly offensive, for which I am sorry. (My default reading voice is "old Russian woman" or Princess Merida from Pixar's Brave. ) While I am reading and listening to music and typing, I also film myself. Why? Your guess is as good as mine. Well, I guess it's because then I can go back and listen (not to the accents) and hear the mistakes as I read them. As I've been doing this, I had considered editing the footage of me acting like a madwoman and posting it on that long forgotten YouTube channel of the same name as this blog. Don't worry, I wasn't stupid enough to do that. I can't edit a video to save my life (as you will see). Instead, I recorded myself explaining my novel and reading a short excerpt from it! Oh wow, oh gosh, oh goodness! Isn't that just fantastic? Well, I thought so too. So I posted it on YouTube. Enjoy: So do you remember a long time ago in December of 2016 when I wrote a story beginning but never followed up with it? Well, I have written a short bit of what comes next. To read the first part you can click here if you want to. It's the prologue and even though this part is short, we're going to call it Chapter 1. I'm not sure how much of this story I'm going to write, although ideally I'll finish it, edit it, get it published by a huge publishing company and then make millions off of it, but let's just start with the first chapter and see where we go from there. Someday in the future, I might assemble the entirety of the story onto an online publishing format such as Fictionpress or Wattpad or whatever the youngsters are into these days. If I do that I'll be sure to let you all know so that you can view it wherever it ends up and you can enjoy it or hate it there. So without further ado and blabbering I present to you: Chapter 1. “Oh dear, oh me, oh my! This is not good, this curse isn’t working like it should!”
The king and queen of the kingdom rolled their eyes at the palace wizard’s instant rhyming. The fellow, who’s name was Breck, thought it made him sound mystical and mysterious, but he wasn’t good at coming up with rhymes on the spot so it really just slowed down the pace at which he spoke. This was fine when he was giving the daily weather forecast, and it didn’t bother anyone when he was making potions or doing simple spells, but it could be quite the nuisance when you actually wanted him to tell you something important. Like this particular occasion. The moment that the fairy Chanter the Terrible had cursed the two day old princess the king had ordered the christening party to be shut down. They politely waved goodbye to all of their guests and then rushed the baby off to the wizard, who never attended parties because in his words: “there are people there”. “What do you mean it’s not working like it should?” The queen asked grouchily, holding her baby in a manner that spoke to the fact that she’d never before held a baby. Of course, you couldn’t expect her to have given she was raised as pampered gentility and was only eighteen years old. She’d had an epic quest at seventeen, saved the kingdom while falling in love with the king, who was in disguise as a soldier, learned a few life lessons, and then married the king and was following up with her happily ever after. She’d never considered that there might be more problems after she got married and had kids. That simply didn’t happen to you once you were in your epilogue years. “It is incredibly odd, my queen, a thing like this I have never seen.” “And what exactly is this?” “This fairy generally does nasty deeds, but if her instructions one does heed, then one shouldn’t see the need to get worked up or cancel sup.” The king and queen took a moment to puzzle out that the wizard was saying that the fairy did lots of mean things, but if you followed her instructions then you could break the curse without much difficulty. This seemed to placate the queen. If the spell was easy to break then she wouldn’t have to worry too much about it and they could continue with their happily ever after and raise a perfect child who would never do any wrong. There would be some minor questing or a party of princes needed, but it shouldn’t be difficult. “I fear, however, that this spell won’t be happy ever.” “What.” “You said that her spells were easy to get rid of!” The king roared, hand naturally going to his sword belt in his agitation. “That I did, my kindly king, but I’m afraid this is a different thing. When you met the fairy, Chanter, I think you should have engaged in banter, for now she’s forgotten to add a clause and the princess will always have her flaws. It can’t be escaped, it can’t be undone, you might as well sign this girl up to be a nun.” “So the fairy didn’t add a clause? Meaning there was no caveat - the spell can’t be broken by eating a magic fruit or drinking water from the home of the elves or anything like that? She is stuck this way for the rest of her life?” “And with her condition no one will want her to wife,” The wizard replied in a sassy tone, which caused the king to smack the back of his graying head. “There is absolutely nothing that we can do? Nothing at all?” “Can’t we hunt down that fairy and make her take it back? Torture her until she does so? Toss her in the dungeon for the rest of her days?” The queen’s hand went to where she normally wore her own sword - a habit she developed when fighting evil trolls alongside the king. It was irritating to her to not have the blade on due to her party dress. “No, my lady, you cannot. An evil fairy can’t be fought. And if she could, it’d do no good. Chanter seldon can recall what she’s done before nightfall. A fairy of the dark she is, and will forget this awful biz. When the moon is up her mind empties like a cup.” Frustrated both with the situation and the wizard’s increasingly terrible rhymes, the queen shoved her child into her husband’s hands and flipped a table. She turned to the wizard and grabbed his throat. “Listen here, Wizard Breck, I have plans to break your neck, unless you do a double check and find a way or some new tech that will save my daughter’s neck. I mean, c’mon, what the heck?!” The queen sneered at him, “Now we’ll leave you be and give you a sec but mark my words if you don’t find a way then I’m going to throw you in the dungeon and leave you there until everyone has forgotten you.” “That didn’t rhyme!” The wizard wheezed. The queen threw him angrily at a bookshelf and then grabbed her child back from her husband and turned to go with a majestic sweep of her skirt. “Maybe I don’t have the time.” The king shrugged at the wizard and rushed after his wife and baby. Well hello there! Long time no write, eh? Yeah. I've been pretty busy lately, what with taking my ACT, working thirty-ish hours a week, and sleeping. And then there was all of November when I was doing NaNoWriMo... which is excruciatingly fun. With all of that going on you think I'd do something useful on my one day off. Like laundry. Or cleaning my room. But no! I spend my day off writing stories about gassy dragons. In my defense, dragons are way more fun than dirty socks and tidying. When I woke up this morning I first panicked because I thought I was going to be late for work, then I realized I didn't have to work today, then I debated about whether I had offended someone with something I had said the day before or not, and then I got up and grabbed a pen and paper. I wrote for about an hour and then I decided I'd like to post what I had written on my blog. So that's what I'm up to right now. I had way too much fun writing this. Somewhere along the line I started imagining the main character, Meegley, as Martin Freeman's John Watson and another character, Sunbiter, as Benedict Cumberbatch - not Sherlock, just Benedict Cumberbatch. I don't even know how that happened. You are free to imagine them in that way or in any other way you choose. I hope you enjoy it. Sorry there are no pictures. The dragon was belching again. One could tell by the inky black tendrils of smoke that were oozing from the diamond mines on the outskirts of town. By that and by the enormous BURP! that preceded each new spout of smoke. The rather rude noises were quite the inconvenience to everyone in town, particularly the China shop owner, as they caused the ground to rumble and the leaves on the trees to shake off of the branches as if it was the middle of autumn, while it was really only May. One person the belches did not bother was Meegley the Sixteenth of the Gleegley Farm. Meegley, or “Meeg” as he was known to those dear to him, was too distracted to be much worried about the dragon smoke and burps. The fact of the matter was that his wife was in the process of doing something incredibly difficult and, truthfully, somewhat dangerous. She was doing her best to bring Meegley the Seventeenth of the Gleegley Farm into the world. Mrs. Gleegley, whose name was Freegley (the First), was bothered by the dragon’s impertinent sounds, as they were distracting her from her rather taxing task. “Meeg, love!” She panted to her husband, who was standing in the corner of their room, watching through the window as the leaves were belched off of their apple tree. “Yes, dear?” He smiled, turning to look at her and noticing that she was sweating a great deal. “I know Dragon Sunbiter is a wonderful help to the community, what with him finding diamonds for us and predicting the weather every Saturday.” “Yes, he is a marvel, isn’t he?” “Mmm hmm- ugh!” Freegley glared at her enormous tummy and then at the midwife, who shrugged, “But could you possibly tell him he’s making this very - ugh! - difficult?” She couldn’t say anymore because she was interrupted by a loud BURP! Meegely loved his wife more than anything. More than his parents and siblings, more than his favorite shirt, more than his pig farm, and even more than his king. Though he’d never say that outloud because it was treason. Since he loved his wife so dearly, what else could he do but dash outside, mount his horse, and ride down to the mine? He covered his mouth with his handkerchief when he got there, trying not to breath in the copious amounts of smoke. Rushing into the cave before Dragon Sunbiter could release gas again, Meegley almost tripped over a large pile of glittering diamonds. The farmer was tempted to take one because he knew that babies were expensive. He wasn’t exactly a beggar, but a fifty carat diamond would certainly help to take care of a growing boy or girl. However, he didn’t want his farm to be burned to the ground when the dragon inevitably discovered the missing jewel, so Meegley left it be and approached the dragon instead. The dragon himself was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling of the cave. He was using his pickaxe-like claws to break diamonds loose from their hiding places above him. The scaly purple and blue beast was content seeming as he counted his treasure and piled it nearby. “...five, six, seven, eight, nine…” Here the dragon smirked and belched happily, knocking Meegley off his feet and into a pile of blue diamonds. Dragon Sunbiter laughed heartily, “Ten!” Setting the pile aside, the reptile began again. Before he could get to ten, Sunbiter was interrupted by Meegley clearing his throat. Flopping over onto his vast belly, the dragon looked the farmer in the eye. Meegley was intimidated, recalling stories of nasty dragons that would gobble people up for a midday meal. He’d never believed such tales before, having grown up such a benevolent dragon in the near vicinity, but as he gazed into the pupiless golden eyes, the man could see how the rumors might have been started. The teeth as long as swords were beginning to sway his opinion of the creatures. “You’ve ruined my game, chap. What for?” Sunbiter had a kind, deep voice, which reminded Meegley of his grandfather. The voice made the farmer shake his head at the thought of someone so noble ever eating anyone. “Sorry to bother you, Dragon, but my wife sent me on a mission.” “Not to try and slay me, I should hope,” Sunbiter’s face lifted where there might have been an eyebrow if he’d had hair, “It’s a perfectly awful thing to have to kill humans. You are all so tiny and adorable.” “No! I would never!” Meegley made a show of crossing his heart. “Good! You are one of the smart ones then.” “I’d like to think so. Anyway, my wife is in the middle of giving birth as we speak.” “Oh goodness!” The dragon belched again, filling the room with smoke, “Congratulations!” “Thank you.” Meegley smiled proudly at being congratulated by a dragon. “Is this your first?” “Yes, Dragon.” “Bravo. I shall have to send over a fruit basket. You smell of pigs so I know where to send it - Greegley, right?” “Yes, Dragon.” “Fantastic!” Sunbiter burped again, this time a little fire came with it, singeing Meegley’s mustache, “I love babies. So ugly, but so small! And they make the funniest sounds!” “Yes, but Dragon, your, um, game is making it very hard for my wife to concentrate.” Sunbiter gasped, claws flying to his mouth in horror. “My most sincere apologies! But I really cannot stop.” “Oh?” The dragon’s cheeks changed to a brighter purple as he blushed. “I’m afraid I’ve been rather stupid. Yesterday I had a drink from a magical fountain I discovered in the woods. Never should have done it because now I have a terrible case of gas,” He winked, “At least it’s not coming out the other end, eh?” Meegley crossed his arms while Dragon Sunbiter chuckled. “That’s hardly a polite thing to mention.” “Err, yes, sorry.” “What are we to do?” Meegley exclaimed, “My poor wife is distraught!” Sunbiter drummed his fingers on the cave floor, deep in thought. “I know! I shall fly over to the Frightful Forest and do my belching there! It’s far enough away that it ought not bother anyone.” “Great! I’m sure Freegley would be most appreciative if you did.” “Consider it done,” Sunbiter nodded, “I’ll be sure to send the fruit when I’m not so... indisposed. Maybe I’ll even pay a visit sometime.” With that, the great beast stood and walked out of the cave, unfurling his beautiful wings as he went. The wings looked much like the stained glass windows in the church with all purple and blue panels. It was a spectacle to behold as the sun hit them just right and sent colorful patterns scattering across the ground and Meegley’s face. “Congrats again, chap!” Sunbiter called, flying off in the direction of the Frightful Forest - burping all the while. Meegley found his horse, who’d run away a few hundred meters when it had seen the dragon, and headed home to check on his wife and child. When he got back to the farm he found that Freegley had just finished up and they had a handsome baby boy. Meanwhile, Sunbiter landing in a clearing in the woods that was far enough away from civilisation that it seemed no one would be affected by his gaseous outbursts. Thinking himself to be alone, he began burping wildly. He would have been quite embarrassed had he known someone was listening nearby. As it turned out, Sunbiter had picked a location near to the underground home of Chanter the Terrible. Chanter, a dark fairy, was attempting to get in some sleep when a belch shook the earth and caused her to fall out of her moss bed. She angrily flitted to her feet and pulled on her long black cloak, which she used in place of a bathrobe. Pulling her exquisite silver hair out of its delicate and intricate braid and into a horrendous, tangled frizz, she shoved her feet into big black boots. Now feeling effectively frightening, the wicked fairy marched up her stairs to her front door, which was framed by an ancient oak and pointed away from the burping dragon. She stepped outside to see who was making such obnoxious and rude sounds. However, she was facing the wrong direction and didn’t see Sunbiter. If she had spotted him she might have gone back inside, as the fairies had a longstanding quarrel with dragons - a quarrel they generally lost when it came down to one on one confrontations. Since she did not see him or anyone else to be mad at, she figured she needed to vent some way and opened her wings. Launching herself into the air, she liked the feeling of wind rushing over her massive feathered wings. The appendages were twice as long as she was tall, black, and covered in feathers. Chanter was fiercely proud of how menacing they made her look. As she flew, she recalled an invitation that she’d received earlier in the week. The fairy had been invited to attend the “most joyus” christening of the king and queen’s new daughter. Coincidentally, that event was going on the very day Chanter was looking for something mean to do. Normally she wouldn’t have even gone to such an event because she hated people and parties made her uncomfortable. But she was in a rotten mood so she decided she’d go curse the baby to lift her spirits. Nothing drastic - after all, it was the child’s fault that Chanter was having a bad day, but some spell that would be terribly annoying. The king and queen would probably do something rash in retaliation, such as calling the guards of promising that Chanter could have their next child if she just lifted the curse off of this one, but she wouldn’t be pestered by that. She’d curse the baby anyway. “It’s the parents fault,” She muttered as she zoomed through the clouds, “Really, who is dumb enough to invite someone with the title ‘the Terrible’ to their baby’s christening?” And that is the story of how Meegley the Sixteenth of Gleegley Farm inadvertently caused a princess to be cursed. But now the story of to be told is that of how Meegley the Seventeenth of Gleegley Farm, with the help of some pigs, broke that curse. Part 2 Here |
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