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Chatterbox: Inkwell
The Tale of
The Tale of General Waffleson!
You may have read my CB Fanfiction thing on BaB, and this is a sort of repost of that, but with some key elements changed in the story, and some of the spelling and punctuation corrected. So basically,it's That Thread 2.0. So uh, let's go! I'll start with the first chapter and release one every day until we come up to the one I'm still writin. Then it will be a bit longer to each post.
If you want to see the original thread the link should be here (please post link, Admins!):
http://www.cricketmagkids.com/chatterbox/blababoutbooks/node/321112
Here's the first chapter:
Act One, Scene One: In Which the General Acquires a Strange Device
My story is a wild one. Depending on who you are, you’ll either think it’s a load of Halabagutchet or a nice autobiography. But whichever you think, I assure you it’s true. All of it. Every word. This is the story of General Waffleson. Me. So without further adieu, let’s do this thing.
One thing I need to get out of the way first: My mother was a dimension-hopping time-lord. My father was the general of the army of the Breakfast Kingdom. My parentage was a bit strange to say the least, but they were still my mom and dad. That is, until mom disappeared and I got lost in the timestream light years away from my father. More on that later.
My adventure started at age 12, the year 2487. I was at an old stone bridge in the woods by my house, my feet dangling off the side. The yellow grass of september colored the ground and dead leaves were just beginning to fall. I was sitting with Jamie, the 80’s nerd who’s been my friend as far as I can remember.
Jamie was taller than me, about 5’ 7” and a year older. He almost constantly wore an aviator’s jacket, even in the middle of summer, when you could fry an egg on the hood of your hovercraft. He had bowl-shaped black hair and brown eyes. In short, he looked pretty much nothing like me, but a lot like Mike from Stranger Things.
I was 5’ 5” and had dark brown hair that was usually flat, but sometimes stuck out in tufts. I liked clothes that included hoods, because it could rain acid at pretty much any moment. My eyes were sometimes green, and sometimes gold. My limbs were long and a bit spidery, with not much muscle to support them. I was currently wearing a blue hoodie with the message ‘Flynn’s Arcade: Go Grid or Go Home’ on it and my Fez (What? Fezzes are cool). Jamie and I were in the middle of a fierce debate, and I was about to push Jamie into the water.
“I tell you,” he said, “Mjolnir can summon thunder! Sting was only used to spread butter on Lembas Bread!”
“Ah, but does Mjolnir glow when your enemies are close by? No. It does not.” I pointed out.
“Thor doesn’t need to know where his enemies are because Mjolnir can blow up mountains! MOUNTAINS!”
“Tell me, Jamie, have you ever heard of the words collateral damage?”
"Touche. Mjolnir is still WAY cooler than your stupid halfling butter knife."
I was growing irritated. “Will you ever give up?” I asked.
“Nope! Mjolnir is cooler than Sting, and nothing you say will convince me otherwise.” Jamie said, grinning.
I sighed. Jamie’s determined, I’ll give him that, but sometimes he’s kind of annoying.
“Where’s Very, anyway?” I asked, looking around, “He was supposed to be here.”
“He’s busy with violin class, but he’ll be here soon,” Jamie answered.
Very Bad was Jamie’s older brother, and had recently joined our little group. He had been a great supplier of ideas, and he had a strange affiliation for music. Despite his name, he was a pretty nice guy, and mature for his years. He had promised to meet us at the old stone bridge, but it looked like he had other plans for the time being.
“Shall we head off to the bunker?” Jamie asked. I pondered for a couple seconds.
“Will Very know where we are?” I asked.
“He’ll figure it out. He’s pretty smart.” Jamie said.
“Let’s go then!” I said, and jumped down from the bridge onto the shore. Jamie followed, and soon we came to a tunnel in the ground. We both knew the way, so navigating through the various trick passages and getting to the trapdoor was easy. When we arrived, Jamie looked up at the ceiling, skeptical.
“Through the Floor Door?” asked Jamie.
“I thought it would be fun to try out,” I replied.
“That’s OK. I don’t have a problem with it.”
I opened the trapdoor, climbed in, and helped Jamie up. The bunker was a large underground building that we found one day, and refurbished (with the help of my parents) to act as a kind of secret base. It had a lab where we conducted tests on various stuff (more recently constructed), a comfortable living room, three bedrooms, a bathroom (obviously), and a couple other rooms that aren’t worth mentioning. We dusted ourselves off, and took a look around the lab, which is where the Floor Door lead. Nothing was out of the ordinary at first glance. But then I noticed the police box in the corner.
The police box was just standing there, not doing anything. I knew what it was because we learned about them in history class. I don’t know what one was doing here, though. Jamie stared with me for a little bit, but then he began to walk towards it. I followed, but when he opened the door, I stopped him.
“What are you doing?” I yelled at Jamie.
“Going inside.” he said.
“Do you know who this belongs to?” I asked.
“No. What's your point?”
“My point is that we shouldn’t just waltz inside a random box that appears in our hidden bunker!” I shouted.
“No need to shout. I know you, aren’t you the littlest bit curious about what’s inside?” he said.
“Yeah, but do you really think that this is a good idea?” I asked.
“Good as any idea you’ve had. Come on!” He walked inside, waving for me to follow. I followed, albeit reluctantly. When I saw the inside, I gasped. There was a huge four-way control panel with various levers and buttons in the center with a large tube coming from the middle. We were walking on iron catwalks suspended by seemingly invisible cables above a floor that seemed to be steaming. Jamie busied himself with the console, while I walked around the various rooms that branched off of the central one.
As I was walking, I came across a hall with wall-to-wall rows of some strange objects. They were glass tubes sitting on large panels with the word TARDIS written across the bottom. I stared at the tubes, and called Jamie over. “What’s up?” he asked.
“I found this weird tube thing, and I think I should go inside.”
“Can’t hurt that much, can it?” he asked.
“I dunno, it’s possible. Do you know what the word TARDIS means?”
“Never heard of it. You should try going in!”
“Alright, but if I die, I’m blaming you,” I said. I took a deep breath and went inside the glass tube.
Much to my surprise, the inside of the ‘TARDIS’ mirrored that of the area I had just left, with the console in the centre and pathways the sides of it. There was one difference from the one I had just left. This one had a key on the console. I grabbed the key and stepped out of the TARDIS. Jamie was waiting with baited breath, and when he saw me come out with the keys, he started speaking frantically, “There’ssomeonehere! Gogogogogogogogo!” he said and started to shove me back in the TARDIS thing. I tried to resist, but the caught me off balance, and I tumbled backward into the tube, Jamie right behind.
As we groggily sat up, I spotted a shiny keyhole on the console. I got to my feet, ran over to the console, shoved the key into the keyhole, and turned. I heard a loud ‘VWORRRP! VWORRRP!’ and the floor began to shake. I looked at the console, and saw a bunch of levers and dials, and for some odd reason, a teapot. I pulled the levers and twisted the dials, hoping to somehow deactivate the machine. No such luck. The ‘VWORRRP! VWORRRP!’ noise grew louder, and then, all of the sudden, everything slowed to a dull hum. Jamie and I both walked to the door, nearly in sync, curious to see what happened. I stared at Jamie. Jamie stared back. With a nod, we both pushed the door open. I gasped. Jamie gawked. We were in an entirely different world.
submitted by General Waffleson, age -456, The Breakfast Kingdom!
(November 5, 2017 - 8:26 am)
(November 5, 2017 - 8:26 am)
Awesome GW! Sounds really cool.
(November 16, 2017 - 10:23 am)
THIS. IS. AMAZING!!!!!!!!!
(November 16, 2017 - 5:37 pm)
Wow, this is epic! Keep going!
(November 19, 2017 - 1:04 pm)
I'm going to do something I did last time and do a trailer for each new act. This is the one I used last time:
[Camera shows General Waffleson standing outside a giant white door while Irrisistible by Fall Out Boy plays in the background]
LONDON-ACCENTED VOICE: Vere's a point when you gotta pay respects to
'er. Ev'ryone's gotta do it at some point. Ve Patron has a special
intrest in ya. You'll be an exelent glad'yator.
[Camera switches to a scene of the general in sci-fi battle armour
holding his toaster gun and staring down the barrel of his gun as the
A-A-A-AYS start in the song]
GENERAL WAFFLESON: So you're saying as long as I die, you won't kill me?
That doen't quite sound right. Can we work out a better trade?
[Camera fades to show a squirrel with a chainsaw right before the chourus starts]
SQUIRREL: In the coluseum, it's kill, be killed, or run like heck.
GENERAL WAFFLESON (while running past the squirrel): NEVER TELL ME THE ODDS!
[camera slowly rises up a white throne carved like a pile of bones, till
it comes to rest on a woman with pure white skin, hair and eyes with a
silver crown and a white robe sitting on it]
WHITE WITCH: Your death shall be very entertaining to us all.
[Camera cuts to black and the words ACT TWO appear in white, with a waffle pattern on them]
(November 20, 2017 - 10:06 am)
ummmmmmm...
wow.
interesting.
(November 20, 2017 - 11:06 am)
haha! Very creative way of switching acts.
(November 20, 2017 - 11:09 am)
Thank you, guys! In return, I shall give you DOUBLE CHAPTERS!
Act Two, Scene One: In Which The General Encounters an Antagonist and a Chicken With a Nose Ring
I woke in a strange room. The walls were made of a polished white stone, and the floors were of the same material. Long steel/iron bars ran from the top of the room to the bottom at the front end. In the corner was a curtain, which I assumed covered a toilet. There was a rusty bed with a thin mattress in the other corner. All in all, I appeared to be in a cell of some sort. I felt in my pockets. Someone had taken my TARDIS keys! So much for THAT plan, I thought. I guess I would just have to wait.
So I did. I waited, and waited, and waited. After what seemed like hours, I heard footsteps coming down the hall. Soon, a pair of burly shoulders and muscled ams swung their way into my vision, followed by a ripped body and the head and face of… a chicken. A coal-black, razor-toothed chicken with a nose ring. The mixture of bodybuilder with the rooster head was a bizarre combination, to say the least. The Chicken-Man looked straight at me like it knew what I was thinking. I guarantee you it didn’t. It cocked its head, like it didn’t know what to do with me. Then it leered at me through the bars. “Ve Patron wants you. Come. BUCK-BUAAG!” it said in a impossibly deep London-accented voice, except for the last bit, which was in a normal higher-pitched chicken voice. I would’ve laughed if the razor-sharp teeth and nose ring didn’t intimidate me so much. Especially the nose ring. I shivered.
The Chicken-Man took a bundle of keys from the pocket of it’s leather armour, and unlocked an invisible keyhole on the wall. The barred part of the wall disappeared, and the Chicken-Man led me out through a maze of hallways, all made with the same white stone. Not a drop of sunlight came from the walls, yet the walls themselves seemed to generate their own light. I probably would’ve tried to run into one of the branching pathways if the Chicken-Man didn’t have a wicked sharp blade swinging from his hip. I tried to keep track of where we were going, a left, then a right, then another left then another right, or was it a left? Eventually I lost track and just gave up. Occasionally, I would see small corridors branching off of the main one, most likely containing more prison cells. The entire complex of hallways seemed to be completely deserted. Apart from me and Chicken-Man, that is. The long walk gave me time to think.
Why had Morpheus zapped me to this place? What even was this place? Who was the ‘Patron’? Why did they want me? Why do nose rings intimidate me so much? I had too many questions and not enough answers. We continued to walk through the halls, and I started to become impatient and fidgety. How much more were we going to walk? Just how big was this place? Just as that thought crossed my mind, we came to a large set of doors. These were no ordinary doors. These doors were 17 feet tall, pure white, and lined with rustic runestones and symbols carved in silver. There were no doorknobs, but in the center of the double doors there was a silver knocker shaped like a giant eye with a diamond-shaped pupil. When we came to a stop outside, the runes around the door glowed a bright white.
The Chicken-Man grabbed my wrist and looked me in the eyes. “Everyun’s gotta pay respects to ‘er at some point. ‘Specially your kind. Show respect, an’ don’t give ‘er too good a reason to kill ye. That would be some more ‘ard work for the janitors, and they got ‘nuff on their plate as it is. I ‘ave a feelin’ you’ll be an excellent glad’yator. BUUUUUUG-BUGUCK BWUAAAAAACK!” I only managed a small nod without busting out into laughter. Slowly, but smoothly, the doors opened. I let out an involuntary gasp.
The room before me was massive, and- no surprise- completely white. It looked like someone had thrown a giant bleach bomb at this whole facility. I was still confused. Who was this mysterious ‘Her’ person? I assumed it was the same person as the ‘patron’ but that didn’t help me at all. I supposed there was only one way to find out. I walked through the doors.
As soon as I passed the threshold, the doors slammed shut behind me. That was when I started to get a little worried for my safety. Then I saw the throne. A huge pile of white, crystalline bones stood, gleaming as if frozen. Atop it stood a throne made of the same white stone I had seen throughout the entire place. The throne was carved to look like a mass of shadowy people stacked up, all in various states of pain, like they were actually being sat upon.
The woman on the throne was a different matter entirely. Her skin was completely white. I don’t mean at she was pale, she was completely white, like quartz. She wore long, flowing robes of the same color. Her crown was silver and regal with a dark blue gem imbedded in the center, the only spot of color on her. Her face was beautiful, but icy cold, and dead looking, as if carved from marble. Her eyes were also white, with no pupils or irises. As soon as I saw her, I felt incredibly scared, like I wanted to run and hide where I would never have to see this person again, but I shook the feeling off. The whole image would haunt my nightmares for years to come. Then she spoke, in a voice like a stone gliding across a frozen lake.
“I see my servant has not failed after all. However, I was not expecting someone of your… demeanor to be the son of Katrina Waffleson,” she laughed, but it was a cold, cruel laugh, “I expected someone more impressive.” I began to grow a little indignant. My face must’ve shown it because the next thing the Bleach Woman said was, “Oh, no, don’t worry. You will still make an excellent tribute. I, as you may have guessed am The White Witch, Queen and Supreme Ruler of the Nightmare Realm.” I just stood there.
“Cool,” I said, not really sure how else to react. The witch scowled.
“Usually people bow when they hear my title. BOW.” My back lurched forward painfully, like it had a mind of its own. The witch laughed again in the same cold manner. “That’s better. Now, as I was saying-”
“Miss Witch Lady?” I interrupted, “Why did you kidnap me? Why not my friends?”
“You will speak only when spoken to, and when you do, you will address me as Your Highness,” the Witch said in the same cold voice, “Your friends Autumn Leaves and Ice Wolf have already been here before. They escaped, leading several other tributes with them. I will not risk having my tributes escape again. You, however, I see as a minimal threat, and a grand prize. Just imagine when the crowd sees that I have captured the son of my greatest enemy.” Minimal threat, my bacon! I thought.
“I imagine they will think you are lying, seeing as I am so, ahem, ‘Unimpressive’,” I paraphrased.
“I see that you refuse to show respect. I will have you know that your life is in my hands. If you continue to show this disregard for authority, I have ways of persuading you otherwise,” the Witch’s eyes fell on the long white sword on her white belt, “The crowd wants to see fear and they want to see bloodshed. You will supply those or face the consequences.”
“So you’re saying as long as I die, you won’t kill me? That doesn’t sound quite right. Can we work out a better trade?” I asked.
“Do not test my patience. I may be very forgiving, but there is a point when my patience will run out. I am finished with you. You will be teleported to the Armory now. My servant will see to your armaments. Your death tomorrow will be very entertaining to us all.”
Suddenly, the air around me grew crisp and hot, and I felt a sharp tug on every part of my body. It was as if my atoms were being separated one by one, which I suppose they were. And the, BOOM! It was over, and I was in a completely different place. In front of me was a wooden stool and, atop it sat one of the strangest things I had ever seen. “Welcome to the Armory,” said the Labrador-sized squirrel in a scratchy voice, “How can I help you?”
(November 21, 2017 - 8:50 am)
As Promised, DOUBLE CHAPTERS!
1. How are you doing today?
2. What is your favorite color?
3. Are you FBI?
4. Sorry. Needed to know. Are you sure you aren't FBI?
5. Do you like waffles?
6. What about cheese?
7. What's your favourtie kind of cheese?
8. If you had to pick one type of transportation to get off a desert
island, what would it be? (You could only use it to get off the island)
9. Do you like Queen?
10. On a scale of 1 to 10, what is your favorite color of the alphabet?
11. Can you play Cribbage?
12. Do you like to read or write better?
13. If you could have one superpower, what would it be? (no dumb 'all of them' or 'create anything out of nothing' nonsense)
14. Would you describe yourself as funny?
15. Do you watch Stranger Things?
16. Is it an African or European swallow?
17. Toes freak me out. What about you? Do toes freak you out?
18. Cecular or Religious? (you can skip this one if you'd like)
19. Are you realy to be done?
20. Well, you don't have to keep answering questions. Would you like to continue?
21. Great! I'm glad you decided to stick with me. 21st question: Would
you rather fight 10 zombie-sized chickens or 100 chicken-sized zombies?
22. Is metal still trendy?
23. What kind of movies do you like?
24. What is your aspiration? (What career do you want to follow?)
25. What is your favorite genre of music?
26. AHve you ever played Pac-Man? On an arcade cabinet?
27. Have you ever seen a wild llama?
28. What would be a good question for this survey?
29. Answer that question here:
30: Do you want to more questions?
31. What's the CAPTCHA for this post?
(November 21, 2017 - 2:29 pm)
Oops. Sorry. I pasted the wrong thing. SORRY! THIS IS NOT THE CHAPTER ABOVE. THIS IS:
Act Two, Scene Two: In Which the General Encounters a Squirrel With Killing-People Issues
The squirrel was something. The armory was another. I gazed around in awe of all the pointy, shooty, and blow-your-insides-to-your-outsides-y items lining the walls and scattered across the floor. There were swords, shields, guns, sword-guns, shield-guns, rocket launchers, lances, grenades, pikes, maces, nukes, and more things, some of which I couldn’t even name. I gulped. I wondered if by ‘Armoury’, The White Witch meant ‘Torture Chamber’. It wouldn’t surprise me. The giant squirrel must have sensed my fear, because the next thing he said was “Don’t worry yet, you look like an OK person I think, so I won’t kill you. Unless you are a terrible person, in that case, you will be obliterated with fire. I will let you know that that isn’t raspberry juice on the walls...” I blanched. Then the squirrel chuckled. “It just hot sauce from yesterday’s homemade burrito made with- actually never mind. But I will kill you maybe probably absolutely if it turns out you’re just a mega-flack-jacket-pengwang-bird-brained velociraptor. BEANS AND CORNNUKES, BOOM-BANG-BLAAAAM!” He said all of this extremely fast, as if he had done nothing for the past 17 hours but drink liquid caffeine. Which, judging by the stains on his teeth, he probably had. “Well? Are you mute or something? Do you not have vocal chords? Or have you just never seen a talking squirrel who has kills people sometimes a little bit maybe before?”
“The last one,” I answered.
“Well get over it, and get a move on, we don’t have all day,” the squirrel replied, tapping his foot impatiently at about 7 billion miles per hour, denting the stool, “We need to get you suited up for the games. But before we do that, I need to fill out this paperwork thingy.” He gestured to the clipboard in his hands, which I could have sworn wasn’t there before. “Name?”
“General Waffleson.”
“No, like your actual name.”
“That IS my actual name.”
“Your first name is General?
“Yup.”
“Well at least it isn’t Qzzpltdgtzxcwghsdnmbvvvpl-bob like the last guy. Took me an hour just to spell it. Next, I’m gonna need your species.”
“Uhh…” I thought for a second, “I’m half time-lord and half waffle with the blood of a dimension hopper soooo…”
“Uhh… I’m gonna put that down as a vegetable.”
I grinned. “Sure. Why not?”
“OK, next is age.”
“I have no idea.”
“No, really.”
“No idea. What year is it?”
“1984.”
“No, seriously.”
“I’ll just write Not Applicable.”
“Go ahead.”
“Next, I’m going to need your Stage Name.”
“Could I have an example?”
“Sparticus of Rhodes.”
“How about General Waffleson?”
The squirrel snorted. “Works for me. I think that’s it for the paperwork,” the squirrel said, “now for the fun part!”
“What’s the fun part? I asked, curious.
“I GET TO KILL YOU!” he yelled. Then he bust out laughing.
“Just joking. You should’ve seen the look on your face! Priceless!”
“So what do we actually do?”
“Now we get to suit you up! Can’t have you performing in those old rags!” I surveyed my ‘If you believe in telekinesis, raise my hand’ hoodie and jeans. “Follow me!” The squirrel jumped off the stool and scampered on four legs down to a set of iron doors. “My name’s Psycho, by the way. Psycho Squirrel.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Psycho.”
“Don’t mention it. Now let me think…” He opened the double doors and led me to a long glass tube in the centre of the room with a metal top and a wire leading to a console in the corner where Psycho stood. “Now, stand in there and hold as still as possible,” he commanded, pointing at the tube. As I approached it, the doors slid open with a hiss. I stepped inside and the tube sealed itself shut. A thin, green light ran the length of my body, while I stood relatively still, probably fidgeting way more than I should’ve been. Little robotic arms came from the ceiling with measuring tapes.
“Uh, what’s going on?”
“We’re measuring you so we can suit you up!” the squirrel said exuberantly, “The arms will measure your dimensions and then use that info to make the cloth, iron, and whatever else for your new suit! You said your name was General Waffleson, right? So how about we use wafflesteel?” A distant memory tugged at my brain.
“Wafflesteel. Isn’t that the fireproof, Francium-proof bulletproof, waterproof, and electricity-proof mineral native to the Breakfast Kingdom that’s a class 7 illegal trade material?”
“Why, yes. Yes it is. Now what about hats? I see you have one of your own, but I don’t think it’s great for the coliseum.” One of the arms snatched the fez from my head and sent it shooting through a tube.
“HEY!” I protested, “Where are you taking my fez? I LIKED that hat!”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sending it to the room that you’ll be staying in.”
I thought of the jail cell that I had spent the last who-knows-how-many hours in and shivered. Psycho must’ve noticed, because the next thing he said was, “A gladiator’s suite should suit you nicely. It’s got a ps4 with Destiny and working plumbing and everything. Although, I will warn you that my Crucible skills are practically unbeatable. My Titan has a full 400 light.” I nodded. I had played some Destiny back at home. I sighed. It seemed like an eternity ago that I had been a not-exactly regular child playing video games with Jamie and not having to worry about my life being in danger or where my mom was. That was fun. I wondered if I would ever be able to do that again. Just then I realized Psycho had been talking. “Do you that it’s a good idea? I feel like it might be a bit over-the-top.” He looked at me expectantly.
“Sorry, what? I wasn’t really listening.”
“THE GENERAL HAT? I think you should use a General Hat!” Psycho yelled. He turned his screen around to show me a picture of the hat he was thinking of. It was the floppy, flat sort of hat that you might see on a general in a comic or a movie. It was wheat-gold, and had a gold waffle on the front.
“I like it. Can we use it?”
“Do you think I would have asked if we couldn’t?”
“Touche.”
The metal arms above me moved again, putting the hat together right on top of my head! The only thing I felt was the weight of the newly sewed hat on my head. “Cool!” I exclaimed.
“I designed it myself! It’s pretty awesome, isn’t it?” Psycho beamed.
“Yeah, it is. Now about the other armour…”
*TWO HOURS LATER*
I walked out of the tube feeling quite happy with my choices. My new garments consisted of a Wafflesteel vest that looked like a golden long-sleeve kevlar jacket, but with a waffle pattern on it, dark grey (regular kevlar) pants, and black combat boots. Oh, and the hat. Do not forget the hat. Somehow, Psycho had managed to also find my toaster gun, and had given it to me for the Coliseum, which I still didn’t know much about. I felt ready to take on the world. Psycho was motioning for me to follow him, so I did, through a set of double doors and down a hallway that looked like it belonged in a hotel. He showed me to a door with a brass knocker and the numbers 349 (also brass). “OK, if you value your sanity, don’t open the blinds. Or the closet. That’s where The White Witch likes to put views into the open space of the Nightmare Dimension, where we are now. So you don’t want to look at ‘em. See you at the games tomorrow.” As Psycho turned away to walk back down the hall, I called something after him.
“Will I have to kill anybody?” I asked.
“So what if you do?” Psycho asked, “I kill people all the time.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a -457-year-old old kid. I’m not sure if I could ever kill a person.”
“It’s a lot easier if you don’t think of them as people. They want to kill you.”
“But they’re people too!” I protested, “I have morals! I can’t!”
“In the coliseum, it’s kill, be killed, or run like heck and then be killed.”
I stayed awake for a while, thinking, before I drifted into another uneasy sleep.
(November 22, 2017 - 9:48 am)
as always, confusing and awesome! Keep up the good work General!
(November 21, 2017 - 10:11 pm)
Is there a specific thing you find confusing? Because if you are confused, I would like to clarify whatever it is.
(November 22, 2017 - 9:49 am)
Haha, no it’s just that I have to reread a couple times to make sure I know what’s going on. I like the fast paced rhythm of the story and the bizarre twists. Very very creative.
(November 22, 2017 - 10:55 am)
Act Two, Scene Three: In Which A Buildup to an Intense Scene is Portrayed
The next morning, after getting on the clothes Psycho fabricated the past night and grabbing my toaster gun, I was pretty nervous. Also confused. Was I supposed to wait for Chicken-Man to come like last time? Or was I supposed to go by myself? I took a chance and stepped out the door into the stark white hallway. There was a paper sign taped to the opposite wall that read in very messy handwriting, “COLISEUM IS TO YOUR LEFT, ALL THE WAY TO THE DOOR. THOUGHT YOU MIGHT WANNA KNOW. PSYCHO.” I looked down the hallway to the left, where a large white vault door lay with a giant wheel that was about twice as big as the door. I tried to grasp one of the rusted metal poles on the vault door, but found that my hand met a wall of nothing before I could get my hand around it.
“Huh,” I said to myself, “how am I even supposed to open it?” I was confused. Very confused it fact. I walked up to the door and began to inspect it.
When I tried to duck under the vault wheel to look at the actual door, I hit my head on something. I looked up, but nothing was there. Rubbing my head, I felt along the vault wheel. There, on the vault wheel, was another vault wheel. But the second vault wheel was invisible. I felt around and only missed a couple times. After I had two bars of the wheel grasped in my hands, I twisted the wheel. With a loud “WHOOOOOOSH” of an airlock on a spaceship, the first vault wheel swung open on a hidden hinge. Looks like the door I saw earlier wasn’t real.
The place beyond the door was massive, and the floor was covered in a strange white sand that pulsed and shifted. The at the bottom of the rim of the place was a set of shaded areas with various weapons. The rim of the place was a stadium, amphitheater style with the steps rising up around the floor, starting about ten feet in height, and escalating to unknown heights above me. The room was dark except for the floor, which glowed an eerie blue light, and a spotlight shining in the center.
As I entered the coliseum, the door shut behind me and a box in the center of the wall facing me lit up with a white light. Sitting in the box was The White Witch, garbed in the white robe and crown I saw her wearing the day before, but with a long white fur cape connected around her neck with a white pendant shaped like an open reptilian eye with an onyx pupil. She looked extremely bored, leaning against the back of her throne as one does when you see someone who is clearly inferior to you because you control about a billion monsters and armies, and who does that someone have? Only his own little pitiful self.
Morpheus was next to her, cleanly shaven and garbed in a cloak as black as void, swirling with a strange cosmic energy. The cloak had a high collar and swept down to to his knees. He had black steel-toed boots and on his shoulders were black plates adorned with black jewels. In the middle of his chest glowed with a light both light and dark at the same time. All in all, he looked like a dark Iron Man and Dracula had the same fashion designer, and it was this guy. He noticed me looking and smirked, which without words said enough. “I’m going to enjoy this guy getting slaughtered.”
“I see our new gladiator has finally awoken,” The White Witch drawled, “Behold, General Waffleson, son of Katrina Waffleson, the woman who slaughtered our ranks and restored the balance. I promise, I jest you not. This truly IS the spawn of the one who nearly defeated us twice over!” The White Witch jeered. The nightmarish variety of monster spectators laughed and jeered. “You have 2 minutes to prepare for your battle beginning now,” she deadpanned.
I looked around and saw Psycho beckoning me over to one of the shaded areas where he was sitting on top of a crate. I walked over. He cupped his hand to my ear and whispered, “I’m not actually with The White Witch. I’m Emperor Psycho of the Psycho Squirrel Empire. I came to the knowledge that The White Witch was abducting dimension-hoppers and Time-Lords as tributes for her sick games, and decided to take action. So I’m helping people escape. I hear you mention Ice Wolf and Autumn Leaves. I helped them escaped. They would be trapped or dead if it weren’t for me. So I’m gonna help you. Here,” Psycho pulled out a lump of blue, glowing matter from his pocket, “take this and keep it on you. It’s the key to your escape. Using it should be pretty intuitive. Oh, and take this too,” he held out my TARDIS keys, and I took them, “Now go, and don’t reveal anything I said in any way.” I began to speak, but Psycho made an invisible line over his throat. “Don’t say anything. If old Bleach Head over there finds out, I am Dead Squirrel. I’ll see you again, though. Just not here. And not now. Go.”
I nodded, turned and walked away, into the pulsing white sand. Across from me on the other side of the arena was a figure that looked just like me, except their body was completely black soot, and they were on fire. No facial features could be seen because soot covered the face. They cracked their neck with their hands and set their body into a tense position. The whole effect worked pretty well, because I was pretty intimidated by my opponent.
“And now,” drawled The White Witch, “it is time for the two of you to face off in single combat for mine and my cohorts’ entertainment. The rules are simple. Fight until one opponent is prone and helpless. Then I will give the signal. Thumbs up mean to let them live, thumbs down means to kill them. Now let me introduce our combatants,” she addressed the stands, “On the right we have the visitor General Waffleson!” The stands jeered and laughed. “And on the left we have longtime champion and commander of my ranks, The Living Ember!” The stands erupted into clapping and hooting. “Now,” said The White Witch, “On my count. Three… Two… One… FIGHT.”
And with that word, my opponent charged.
(November 22, 2017 - 7:53 pm)
argggh, the suspense!!
(November 23, 2017 - 11:46 am)
Wow. Just...wow.
(November 25, 2017 - 8:08 pm)