Of Off Offal and Falafal
Time rolled by, being circular in design and thus good at rolling, and Leonard nodded politely to it as it passed.
Krulnor still sat despondently in his cell, still flexing and yelling intermittently, but now with very little enthusiasm. Mostly it was just to look tough in front of Bob and The Kittens (the sea-warriors, not a rock band from the ‘60s), who were all fighting for space in the other half of the cell. The cell, being made to hold two or three prisoners max, was fairly crowded, yet Krulnor had half of it to himself, having made it abundantly clear that any of The Kittens that tried to cross to his side of the cell would be “taken to the vet.” It was not quite clear what Krulnor meant by this statement, but the crazed glint in his eye whenever he mentioned the term made The Kittens’ fur stand on end.
The real issue was that Krulnor had no idea how to escape. His usual escape attempts either involved hitting a guard in the face with some sort of log (impossible due to the lack of logs and guards nearby), or uttering a fearsome battle-cry and swinging his mighty battle-axe (impossible due to the lack of mighty battle-axes and battles nearby). Leonard knew Krulnor too well! That really made things awkward.
Eventually Krulnor sighed, flexed once more (making three of the smallest The Kittens mew in terror), and turned to the quivering horde behind him.
“Got any food?”
One of The Kittens was pushed forward by the others, and held a nervous paw out to reveal a shaved rat wrapped in tinfoil. Krulnor took it grudgingly and began to eat. Yuck! He grimaced and wished he had some Toad’nMako sauce to go with it; it was just a bit dry.
He sighed again. This was getting nowhere. With all of The Kittens being locked in the cage and the Captured and Tied-Up Messenger being captured and tied-up, there was no way of stopping Leonard and the Sweet Cuddly Baby Guinea Pigs from selling him in the slave-markets. There were no other characters yet introduced in the story, no one likely to turn up as it was the middle of the pre-Tasman Sea, and no plausible way for him to get out of the cell and influence the plot.
Hmmmmm…. The blog-author furrowed his brow and rubbed his face in frustration. How would the plot progress? He had to think of something, and fast - the other blog-author was getting impatient… He glanced around his room for inspiration, quickly dismissing Mr Potato Head and his Connect Four Travel Edition as having any possible relevance to the novel, briefly considering his pump water bottle (maybe a giant plastic bottle could hit the ship and break it in two…?), and frantically allowed his eyes to rest on a lone juggling ball. Scratching his head, he quickly debated whether that could have any place in the medieval-style epic. He shrugged to himself. Oh well, better than a Mr Potato Head anyway…
Up on deck, one of the Guinea Pigs saw a pile of cannon balls strategically placed by a cannon (oddly enough). Because the blog-author was incredibly desperate, this Guinea Pig picked up three of the cannon balls and attempted to juggle.
Epic fail.
With a loud thud a cannon ball slipped from the Guinea Pig’s grasp, breaking through the deck, through the cage below, and on through the next deck and into the ocean. Water immediately began gushing up through the hole, and in fright the Guinea Pig dropped the other two balls, one of which smashed open the cage door on its way through, and the other of which simply bounced when it hit the deck and didn’t create a hole at all (as by this stage the blog-author felt he had done enough damage to the ship and could return to more accurate physics before continuing to narrate).
Leonard looked around from the ship’s wheel, and suddenly wished he hadn’t scuttled his Chinese junk when he boarded this ship.
Krulnor looked up and realised the cage door was open, and that he had to move fast before the lower deck and cell flooded entirely.
And The Kittens mewed even louder, and began wondering yet again why they were in a career that involved water.
Previous Chapter *** Next Chapter
Krulnor still sat despondently in his cell, still flexing and yelling intermittently, but now with very little enthusiasm. Mostly it was just to look tough in front of Bob and The Kittens (the sea-warriors, not a rock band from the ‘60s), who were all fighting for space in the other half of the cell. The cell, being made to hold two or three prisoners max, was fairly crowded, yet Krulnor had half of it to himself, having made it abundantly clear that any of The Kittens that tried to cross to his side of the cell would be “taken to the vet.” It was not quite clear what Krulnor meant by this statement, but the crazed glint in his eye whenever he mentioned the term made The Kittens’ fur stand on end.
The real issue was that Krulnor had no idea how to escape. His usual escape attempts either involved hitting a guard in the face with some sort of log (impossible due to the lack of logs and guards nearby), or uttering a fearsome battle-cry and swinging his mighty battle-axe (impossible due to the lack of mighty battle-axes and battles nearby). Leonard knew Krulnor too well! That really made things awkward.
Eventually Krulnor sighed, flexed once more (making three of the smallest The Kittens mew in terror), and turned to the quivering horde behind him.
“Got any food?”
One of The Kittens was pushed forward by the others, and held a nervous paw out to reveal a shaved rat wrapped in tinfoil. Krulnor took it grudgingly and began to eat. Yuck! He grimaced and wished he had some Toad’nMako sauce to go with it; it was just a bit dry.
He sighed again. This was getting nowhere. With all of The Kittens being locked in the cage and the Captured and Tied-Up Messenger being captured and tied-up, there was no way of stopping Leonard and the Sweet Cuddly Baby Guinea Pigs from selling him in the slave-markets. There were no other characters yet introduced in the story, no one likely to turn up as it was the middle of the pre-Tasman Sea, and no plausible way for him to get out of the cell and influence the plot.
Hmmmmm…. The blog-author furrowed his brow and rubbed his face in frustration. How would the plot progress? He had to think of something, and fast - the other blog-author was getting impatient… He glanced around his room for inspiration, quickly dismissing Mr Potato Head and his Connect Four Travel Edition as having any possible relevance to the novel, briefly considering his pump water bottle (maybe a giant plastic bottle could hit the ship and break it in two…?), and frantically allowed his eyes to rest on a lone juggling ball. Scratching his head, he quickly debated whether that could have any place in the medieval-style epic. He shrugged to himself. Oh well, better than a Mr Potato Head anyway…
Up on deck, one of the Guinea Pigs saw a pile of cannon balls strategically placed by a cannon (oddly enough). Because the blog-author was incredibly desperate, this Guinea Pig picked up three of the cannon balls and attempted to juggle.
Epic fail.
With a loud thud a cannon ball slipped from the Guinea Pig’s grasp, breaking through the deck, through the cage below, and on through the next deck and into the ocean. Water immediately began gushing up through the hole, and in fright the Guinea Pig dropped the other two balls, one of which smashed open the cage door on its way through, and the other of which simply bounced when it hit the deck and didn’t create a hole at all (as by this stage the blog-author felt he had done enough damage to the ship and could return to more accurate physics before continuing to narrate).
Leonard looked around from the ship’s wheel, and suddenly wished he hadn’t scuttled his Chinese junk when he boarded this ship.
Krulnor looked up and realised the cage door was open, and that he had to move fast before the lower deck and cell flooded entirely.
And The Kittens mewed even louder, and began wondering yet again why they were in a career that involved water.
Previous Chapter *** Next Chapter
posted by Lark Victory | 9:57 PM
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