The Great Barnevillian Adventure
Once upon a time, in a not-so faraway place, there was a small kingdom called Barnevillia, lying on the borders of the great and powerful land of fDodgevillia, and the Barnevillians' enemies--the Horebian Mountain Folk. The Horebians believed that they were much better because only their bloodline was pure and free from incest, which started the great Taco ReBellion, but that is anohter story for another time.
Foremost among the tourist destinations in the area was a small castle, Barnevillia's High. No one knew why it was called that, for at least most of the peasants were sober... The King Knudson, a bantam rooster, ruled High and the rest of Barnevillia. He would have called himself Emperor Knudson, except when he tried to introduce the idea everyone laughed at him, so, he counted himself lucky to be king.
There were many peasants in the High castle, some of who were currently residing in the monastery of a woodchuck, Likefryeswiat, who was the Abbotess of the church. Among the monks and nuns were Batman, Candy Apple Red, Sly, young Soup-Day-in-Cafeteria, and Bologna.
The peasants lived a simple life, and were happy, but one day, that was all to change...
"Ay!" cried Apple, a squirrel, as she attempted to write a letter with her quill pen. "We're out of ink!"
"What?" shrieked Sly, a white kitten, dropping everything to see the problem. She tried to write something, but there was no ink in the pen. "It's true!" she shouted. "what will we do?"
"Try dipping the pen in the ink again," said Soup-Day, a lllama, peering over Apple's shoulder. "Sometimes that's all you need."
The trembling young squirrel dipped the quill into the inkwell, and cautiously moved it to the paper. Taking a deep breath, she touched it to the page, and tried to write. Nothing happened.
"It's gone!" she screamed, wringing her hands in anguish. "The ink is gone!"
Bologna, the foolish little goose, who had just now come into the room, gasped in shock. "Without ink, we won't be able to transfer these manuscripts! And without that, we'll--we'll--well, I really don't know what we'll do, but it will be horrific, and the world will be destroyed!"
Althought Bologna was clearly overreacting, her panic spread to the rest of the animals, and they ran around like hyperactive ruit flies, except for Batman, who really was a fruit fly. He flew around like a hyperactive Chihuahua.
"A plague of locusts o'er the land will destroy us all!" wailed Soup-Day.
"No--the sun will burst and we'll live in eternal darkness!" exclaimed Batman.
"The sky is falling, the sky is falling!" yelped Chicken Little, who had accidently been placed in the story for a couple of minutes.
But suddenly, a voice of tranquility broke through the storm of confusion. "Why don't you check the supply cabinet?" it asked.
Everyone turned. It was the Abbotess, Likefryeswiat.
"I never thought of that," said Apple, turning to the file cabinet right next to her. "That's a good..." she peered in, her words fading away as she searched. Everyone else waited, holding her or her breaths. "Oh my words!" she cried suddenly, taken aback. "There's none in there, either!"
The panic spread even more this time, but just as Apple began to shriek, "we'll all be eaten by lima bean-coated bird beaks!" Likefryeswiat once again offered her voice of reason.
"Why don't you go to the King and ask him for more supplies?" she asked, and waited for her logic to sink in.
These weren't exactly logical creatures, so she was waiting a while.
"Hey!" cried Bologna suddenly. "Why don't we go to the King? He probably has so many inkwells that he'll be able to spare us a few."
"That's a great idea," Likefryeswiat muttered. "How I wish I would have thought of that!"
"No time for that, now," called Bologna as she goose-waddled to the door. "Vamos! We must go! Who's coming with me?"
There was once again silence.
"Anyone?" she asked. "Anyone at'all?"
Finally somone stood up--little Soup-Day. "I'll go," she said.
"Me, too!" shouted Apple.
"Me, five!" exclaimed Batman, who was flying around so fast nore that he couldn't quite count.
When all was through, everyone had agreed to go on the journey, and so they set out on what would be the greatest adventure of their lives...
...and great adventure often means great misfortune, as the group soon enough found out. They hadn't gone more than three feet away from theh monastery when they ran into every peasant's biggest nightmare, the cold-hearted (and cold-blooded) reptilian sheriff, Sir Joel's old son, the Hall Keeper.
"What are you doing outside the church?" the Keeper bellowed, racing forward to block their path.
"We're traveling to see the king," answered Sly, confused. "Why? Is there something wrong with that?"
"Something--something wrong with that?" Keeper stuttered, his eyes glowing red. "Of course there's something wrong with that! Unless you have permission from your--"
"Easy, hombre," exclaimed an exasperated Apple, exhausted by his agitation, anger, etc. "Calm down!"
"I can't calm down! Look--you can't be walking around High without a pass and permission, especially before 8:05! And does it look past 8:05?"
"Well," replied Bologna, glancing at her sundial, "actually, it looks more like eleventeen 'o clock."
The other animals laughed, thinking she was being smart. Just the opposite--she couldn't tell time!
"Are you mocking me?" asked the Keeper angrily. "You miserable little goose! You turn around right now, and you get back to your church, or else!"
"Why?" asked Bologna quietly.
"Because--" The Keeper didn't have a quick answer for this. "Because...Because otherwise I'll get yelled at, that's why! Now go!"
The poor peasants, scared out of their wits of the Keeper, turned around to go hom, but instead, once the sheriff was out of sight, took the back way into the Royal Court. After being forced to wait in line by the cruel advisors for many minutes, they finally got their audience with thte king.
"Please, dear king Knudson, our monastery has run out of ink. Would you be ever so kind as to lend us some? We would be willing to give you some of our next harvest..."
"What about pardons?" asked the king. "Would you give those? It's way too expensive to call in a Pardoner each and every time we ransack a village."
"Well, actually," said Sly, "we don't believe in pardoning for money. It's immoral. However--"
"No pardons? Hah!" cried the great king. "If you want something for nothing then you must apply for aid from the kingdom. Advisor?" A wickedly grinning imp peeked its head around the corner, then hobbled into the room, dragging a wagonload full of paper behind it. "Show these people the procedures."
"Yes, your highness!" cackled the imp, and it began an overwhelming list of forms to fill out and signatures to be made. "Form Z199G3 and then KS9293, but not U812DKA--that's ours to fill out, but keep S9232 for your records, and sign on the 832nd line, but not the 131st, and..."
The imp continued for hours, until the peasants finally gave up, and ran home.
"Did she even speak English?" asked Apple glumly.
"I don't think so..." answered Sly.
"Come on, you guys!" cried Batman. "This isn't that bad. We'll think of some way to survive, I'm sure of it! In the meantime, though, let's just have a feast, and be merry. It may be the last in a long time, so let's enjoy it!"
The rest of them agreed, and they prepared the biggest feast that has ever been prepared in all time, with all sorts of exotic animal goodies, like fresh birch bark, and the spring's first sprigs of grass. When Likefryeswiat came in later on, she was amazed, and also disappointed.
"I can't beliefve they gave up so easily..." she muttered, then shook her head and went back outside. "I thought they were ready... And besides that, look at all the food they're wasting!"
Bologna, upon hearing this, was shocked. Likefryeswiat was right! They had given up so easily! They still had fight left in then, didn't they? They would find a way to get their inkwell, no matter what!
"Fellow creatures!" she began to get their attention, an idea on how to defeat the gardians of the kingdom's inkwells already forming in her tiny mind. "Tell me, are we giving up already?"
"No--there's just nothing else we can do!" cried one of the peasants.
"Is there?" asked Bologna. "Have we tried everything?"
They gathered around her, now thoroughly interested, and listened to her plan. Why couldn't they disguise themselves, sneak into the Royal Office Supply Box, and steal the ink they deserved? It was a perfect plan...except for one thing.
"But what about the Keeper?" asked Soup-Day.
Bologna thought for a long mong moment before answering. "Don't worry about him--I've got a secret weapon to use against him."
"Really? What is it?" asked Sly.
"It's--uh--um..." Bologna sputtered, the gears in her little gooseberry brain cranking. Truthfully, she wsa just a politician, and wanted them to help her. "Well--if I told you, it wouldn't be a secret weapon!"
"Ah..." everyone whispered. How smart that Bologna was!
"Alright, then!" shouted Bologna. "Let's go!"
"Ay carumba!" whispered Likefryeswiat as the group went a-tottering away. "It's the Merry Bumbling Fools." THe peasants, hearing this, decided that it was a perfect name for themselves, and immediately took it, and even created a song to go with it, in order to pass the time while they traveled to see King Knudson. It went:
"You there!" he cried. "Take off those things, and show some respect!"
"Respect?" demanded Bologna. "How would we be any more respecful if we took these off?"
"Well..." started the Keeper, yet once again he found himself speechless. "Well... Oh! It's a tradition, you take off your hat, just like you would stand for the anthem."
"See now, that's another thing that confuses me. Why do we stand? I mean, wouldn't we want to kneel or something, if we truly respected it? This seems like we're thinking we're higher than it, being disrespectful. So, if it makes just as much sense as that, why do we have to do it?"
The Keeper stood silent again, and the peasants laughed once again. THat was the second time Bolongna had thoroughly confused the sheriff! She really was smart! THey didn't realize that she was just babbling off the top of her head again.
"You--" shouted the sheriff, trembling with rage, "just take off the masks, or I'll take them away!"
Bologna sighed, and did what she was told. Immediately, because they were following the rules, the Keeper smiled.
"Good morning! Have a nice day!" he said, walking away. You see, High had to keep up impressions, and make their peasants feel welcome.
Now that he was gone, the peasants shrugged, put on their masks on again, and continued on to the Supply Box.
"Alright, nobody move!" cried Batman, rushing into the room. "Give us all your ink, and nobody gets hurt!"
"You ungrateful little wretch!" yelled the Advisor, who happened to be in today. "You sit outside and you wait in line!"
"Uh...okay," whispered batman meekly. The animals shrugged and waited outside until they were called in.
"Now, what is it you wanted?" asked the imp pleasantly. The sheriff wasn't the only one who had to keep up impressions.
"We need ink, and you're going to give it to us!" shouted Apple, who by this time was quite fed up with the whole affair. "Now!"
"Oh!" said the imp. "What are you going to do to me if I don't?"
The peasants looked to Bologna for an answer. She had none, so she had to wing it.
"If you don't give us want we want..." she began slowly, then realized she had no clue what to say. "I'll babble until I figure it out," she thought to herself, not realizing that she had just said it aloud!
"No!" wailed the imp. "Anything but that! Here--take whatever you want!"
Bologna, pretending that was what she had intended to do, shrugged, and motioned for Sly to go to the Supply Box.
Sly came back moments later with a single bottle of ink.
Bologna laughed. "Is that it?" she asked, meaning that the ink bottle was so small. They misunderstood her again, however, and Soup-Day spoke up.
"Yeah, why don't we take more than one?" she asked.
"What do you mean, more than one?" said Sly, puzzled.
"Can we do othat--is that legal?" chimed Apple.
"Is this?" said Batman, laughing.
Silence rang throughout the room, as they realilzed the truth of the words.
"I see. You don't know," said Soup-Day. "But listen to me--if we take multiple inkwells, we can give them out to all the rest of the people who need them!"
"Why that's a great idea!" said Apple, and so they ran back into the Supply Box and took all the ink they could carry.
When they were trhough pillaging the Royal Office Supply Box, they hurried off towards their room, but soon heard shouteing behind them. It was the Keeper!
"Stop right there!" he screamed, chasing after them.
The peasants were terrified, and their fear held them as if held by chains. The sheriff still ran, coming closer and closer to them until Bologna finally had an idea, her first in years.
"Hey, Keeper!" she yelled, feigning anger.
"What?" he asked, running closer still to them.
"What are you doing running in the hallways?" she inquired. "That's against the rules! Now you go back to the start of that hall there, and you walk this time, young man, do you hear me?"
Keeper stopped, aghast. "I can't believe I did that!" he cried. "Of course, ma'am, I'll go right back, just like you said!"
Bologna nodded. "Yes, you will. Now I trust you'll do it right this time?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good," she said, and she and the rest of the peasants made their way leisurely back to the monastery, with no fear of the Keeper ever finding them again, and gave out all they had to their poor neighbors. And so, they lived happily ever after, living their double lives as the Merry Bumbling Fools to steal from the rich and give to the poor.
THE END.
Oops, typo. This is
The End.