Logical Nonsense

Hop's First Adventure- Chapter 4 (Get Ready!)

2006-09-21T21:09:00.000-07:00

The animals under the Tree of Meeting had been talking for a long while. The sun was now setting and they began to go back to their homes. All of them, however, agreed on one thing before they went back- that Hop must be rescued, and that a team of animals would be needed to do so.

Many said they would like to go, but were undecided. Hop and Ift were, of course, ready to go. Tomorrow, they would discuss on the best way to bring back Hoot. To rescue him.

The old deer (who was very wise, and knew a lot of things) agreed to lead them- to show them the quickest way to where the tall creatures lived. But he was not that interested in saving Hoot as the other animals were. “I’m too old for this sort of thing.” He muttered, shaking his head.

It was now late at night, and Hop was out in the fields, staring into the dark sky, at the little bright dots that twinkled now and then. Hop wondered why.

He also wondered how they were to rescue Hoot, their best friend. He was like a father to them. Hop thought about the dangers they would face. He was- most of all- afraid some might get hurt. But one thing he didn’t think about (or maybe, perhaps, didn’t want to) was whether they would succeed…or fail.

***

Ift perched on the tree, gazing at the ground. It was very early in the morning. There was mist in the air, and there was only a little light as the sun had not fully come out yet. The leaves and grass were moist with dew, and Ift waited. She waited patiently…and then!

She swooped down and grabbed (with her little beak) a long and slimy earth worm. That would be her breakfast. Ift was satisfied.

***

“Please don’t hurt me!” Ibbit cried out in fear.

“Oh keep your mouth shut tiny frog. Now tell me…what are they planning to do?”

“Please don’t hurt me!” Ibbit repeated. He was swimming around franticly in the pond. He popped underwater. But then after awhile, he came out.

The black raven was still there, waiting for him. “Well?” it asked Ibbit.

“They’re going to rescue him!” Ibbit shrieked, and popped back underwater.

“Wonderful.” The black raven said, and smiled.

If This Is Poetry...

2006-08-22T23:39:00.000-07:00

Silently

The mouse walks

The flag flutters

Cause, unknown

They do it and now

It’s time to sleep

Goodnight

...then randomness is predictable.

Seriously, this would be considered art if it was written any other day (especially if it was by a well know poet).

But for whoever's sake, I'm going to pass my random typing as poety =)

Hop's First Adventure- Chapter 3 (To Rescue Hoot)

2006-08-16T23:35:00.000-07:00

"I don't believe it!" a baffled hare said to Hop.

"It's true, unfortunately. Hoot is gone- taken." Hop said.

The group of animals started whispering to each other. Hop and Ift and ten, eleven, twelve other animals were gathered together under the Tree fo Meeting (a large, leafy oak that stood alone in the middle ofa beautiful meadow).

"But what should we do? We have no idea where Hoot has been taken!" said a raccoon. Hop looked at Ift and she looked at him. Both expected each other to give an answer. Both could not give any- they had, it was true, no idea what to do.

"I know!" a squirrel from a tree chimed in. Everyone kept silent and waited for him to say something.

"Ibbit said that they were taken captive by the tall creatures, right?" asked the squirrel. Ift nodded a yes.

"That means they would probably have taken Hoot back to where they live." the squirrel said. Everyone looked at each other. Yes, they all knew where the tall creatures lived- where they came from. But they also knew that no one would ever dare go near them.

"You all know that it would be very silly to go there..." a mole said softly.

"That's right. There are hawks and foxes and unfriendly ravens." said a sparrow.

"I would be willing to fly there." Ift said.

"No, it's too dangerous." Hop quickly replied.

"That young rabbit is right." said an old deer, who had kept silent until now.

"But I can quickly fly there and find Hoot. It's simple!" Ift pleaded.

"No, no," said the old deer, "how can you be so sure that you can find that owl easily? Where would you go once you get exhausted?"

Everyone agreed. But Ift said, "I must try."

The old dear chuckled, and said: "I don't mean to say that you or anyone else should not bother to rescue Hoot."

"What do you mean to say then?" a hedgehog asked.

"That in order to find and bring back Hoot," the old deer explained, "You'll need more than a single swallow- no matter how skillful she is. You'll need, in other words, help."

Hop's First Adventure- Chapter 2 (The Black Raven)

2006-08-03T22:55:00.000-07:00

Ift asked Hop if she should fly over to Woot's nest to see if he was there. That would spare Hop the trouble.

"No, thanks." Hop refused politely.

"I'll fly there first, anyways." Ift said. "See you there!" She said before flying off.

Hop jumped over the roots of the trees (that came out of the ground), lots of rocks and fallen tree trunks as he made his way to Woot's home.

As he went deeper and deeper, the mist grew thicker and thicker. Hop slowed down as he carefully followed the road that would take him to his destination.

Many have asked Woot why he would live in such a place.

"I like it here." was his usual reply.

Ift was the first to reach Woot's nest. She settled on a branch.

She slowly hopped over to Woot's hole, if he was there. He should be there. It wasn't night time, which was the only time he left his tree.

There was no one.

She looked around for any sign of him, and found none. Ift then sat patiently, waiting for Hop. She would be the one telling him the bad news.

"Hello, little girl." a soft, growling voice came from behind Ift. Ift quickly turned around, to see who it was.

"Did I frighten you?" he said, with a chuckle. It was a huge black raven that towered over the little figure of Ift.

"No." Ift replied.

"Haha, I see." the raven replied. He didn't seem to think that Ift was telling the truth.

Ift kept silent.

"Looking for someone?" the black raven said.

Ift summoned her courage, and replied with a simple "Yes."

"The owl, I suppose." said the raven.

Ift nodded her head and said, "Yes. Woot is his name. Have you seen him."

He laughed and said: "Yes, I have. He was captured by them, just before sundown. Yesterday."

"By...those creatures?" Ift said.

"Heh. Yes." answered the Raven.

"Thank you." said Ift.

The raven didn't bother to say "welcome". He flew off as sudden as he came.

Hop finally reached Woot's nest. Ift was perched there, waiting for him. Hop could tell from her face that Ibbit was right. Ift then told Hop what the raven had said to her.

"We must tell the others." said Hop.

Hop's First Adventure- Chapter 1 (Bad News?)

2006-08-01T04:57:00.000-07:00

I just finished this chapter very recently. Being the very first animal adventure I have written (and a story for young ones at that), don't expect the best. I do wish that it could've somehow been better, but other than that, I'm satisfied, as I've done the best I could.

_____ ______ ______ ______ ______ _____

It was one of those days where the sun would be so hot, you couldn't stand being outside for very long. Hop certainly couldn't stand it as well. Yet he was bounding away from his home, leaping at a very fast pace.

The sun was so hot and bright that you can't even look up into the sky. Even looking around you would cause your eyes to water (You would need to look right down at your feet). And yet, Hop was outside. Where was he heading?

Ift was a swallow, a very beautiful one. She was very graceful and skilled in flying. Everyone knew that, and loved her and liked her. Ift spotted Hop hopping towards the forest. Curious, she glided over to find out what Hop was up to.

Hop, even though he was busy running towards where he was going, noticed Ift immediately. His sensitive rabbit ears spotted the sound of Ift's beating wings. Slowing down, Hop called out to Ift, who was now flying behind him.

"Hiya Ift! Whatcha doing?" he said cheerfully.

"Heehee," was Ift's reply. "I didn't think you would notice me!" she said to Hop. Hop laughed, and continued leaping towards his destination, with Ift gliding behind him.

They had now both reached the forest, and both took a break under a shady tree.

Ift perched on a branch above Hop while he was leaning against the trunk of the tree, catching his breath. "I wanted to see what you were up to." Ift explained. Hop looked up to where she was perching, and smiled. Hop explained, "Ibbit had something urgent to tell me."

"Do come along with me." Hop said. Ift replied with a thank you. "I would love to follow along!" said Ift.

Who was this Ibbit? Well, Ibbit was a frog. And a very strange one as well. Ibbit would usually sit on his lily pad (and he sat on it all day, and all night, rarely going into the water). He would wait for an insect (an insect that he could eat, of course) and would then swipe it up if that insect was unfortunate enough to wander too close to Ibbit.

He was not very fond of the outside world, and rarely had conversations with anyone. Usually, he would just croak a "hello" to anyone who passes by. Hop knew Ibbit a bit better than others, and they talked a little sometimes. But Ibbit still hardly ever wished for people to come by and visit him, which was why Hop was exceedinly curious when a squirrel (returning from collecting nuts) told him that Ibbit had something to tell Hop, and that he would like to see him "as soon as possible".

"Ibbit!" greeted Hop. "Hop!" Ibbit said with surprise.

"That's Ift. I'm sure you've seen her around." Hop said, and nodded towards a swallow perching on a nearby tree. "Hullo." Ibbit croaked.

"So is there..." Hop said, thinking Ibbit will finish his sentence. "What?" Ibbit said in reply. Obviously, this frog had a very short memory.

"Something you want to tell me?" Hop said again. Ift was giggling at what she thought to be a strange frog indeed. Ibbit sat silently on his lily. He did that for a few minutes, before he started croaking. His croaking got louder and louder, faster and faster until Ibbit let out a shriek of fright.

"What is it?" asked Hop, surprised. Ift was now curiously watching Ibbit. Ibbit calmed down a little before he said: "It's them! They caught Woot and took him away!"

"Who's them?" Hop asked. Ibbit stuttered a little, uttering words Hop couldn't understand. But finally Ibbit said something clear: "Tall and thin. Creatures. On two legs. They made a lot of noise. They caught Woot. Brought him with them!"

And then Ibbit fell silent.

"What are you doing here?" Ibbit mumbled, after another few minutes of silence. Obviously, this frog had forgotten again.

"We'll be on our way. Thanks for telling." Hop said softly. "See you." Ift chirped to Ibbit.

Both of them, Hop and Ift, knew very well who these creatures were.

"Do you really think Ibbit is telling the truth?" Ift asked Hop. She was gliding steadily above him. They were now out of the forest. Hop was leaping past the meadows. The sun above had been slightly covered by clouds, so it was much cooler.

"Only one way to find out." Hop replied. He was heading towards the Misty Trees. Woot's home was there.

"If he is not there, does it still mean he was caught, like Ibbit said?" continued Ift.

"I guess we'll need to ask someone." Hop said. But he knew it would not be easy. There were very few friendly creatures who lived in the woods where Woot's home was. Most of them didn't even speak each other. Would they even listen to Hop and Ift?

Woot, thankfully, was the only friendly animal who lived there. He was the oldest owl the inhabitants of Dusk Valley knew, and he was also the most wisest, and a good friend to all of them.

Hop slowed down, and Ift headed towards a tree to rest. They had reached a place very few animals liked to go to. Thick, tall trees stood in front of them. Even on a sunny day, very little sunshine came through the thick leaves of those trees. Inside the woods, there would usually be mist surrounding the trees. It made the surroundings very dark. Very, very dark, sometimes.

Hop took a deep breath, and went in.

A Day Begins

2006-07-26T20:52:00.000-07:00

Sarah looked out the window, watching cars pass by. They slowed down as they approached a hump. Then they sped up again; sped away.

The day had passed from gloomy to sunny. She liked gloomy better, but knew not why. Come to think of it, she thought, she has always liked rain better than sunshine.

One of the symptoms of melancholia, so it seems. Untreatable, maybe. But certainly she was not one who will delight in it. There was another part of her that was an optimist.

As she pulled herself away from her gazing (she had other things to do), she recalled last night. It was a very boring one. Yet she still wanted it to continue.

Today was a day she did not want to dwell in. Yet it’s not like you can stop it. She fatalistically resigned. Yes, there was nothing you can do.

“Maybe…” Sarah whispered. Why did she say it? She did not herself know; maybe ”maybe” sounded nice. Perhaps it was suitable. Something made her say it.

What did? She did not know. Maybe she said it because it sounded nice. If so, then “niceness” made her say it. How dare it force her! She chuckled. I’ve got things to do.

What things? Homework. Lovely. Really. She sat down. Oh wait, I need to get my books. She got up, and took them. Then she sat down again.

Two hours later, Sarah was eating her lunch. She did not like lunch, yet she did not want it to end. No, the day must not continue. But continue it did.

Afternoon. The sun showed no remorse. She was untouchable, however. Sitting safely in her room. With the aircond. And the fan. No that’s cheating. Face the fact.

She got out of her house. She had to breath. To calm down. The sun wasn’t nice. But she wished it would shine all day. Enough with wishing. It’s evening. I’ve got to take a bath.

What’s with bathing? She relished it. Run down the clock, run down the day. Yep. Great time to waste your time on conditioner. Yes, and where’s that useless apricot scrub? There it is. Lovely.

Time to go. Not for me. Mum says so. I got to go. Darn. Get out, get dressed. Who cares about what dress? No…this one is too fluffy. No, too tacky. Who gave this abomination to me? Did I buy it?

Time to go. Urgency forces Sarah’s choice. She puts on a dress, and she’s ready to go. No time to think about it. She must be ready.

Here we are! Have fun, and good luck! Mum says. I wish. Sarah stepped into the hall. She found brief solace in her friends, cheering her on. No, their cheers were useless. It was all up to her.

Onto the podium. In front of the people. Then, Sarah smiles. Yes, she’s a lovely woman. It would be a sin not to forgive her. But wait, there’s no need. She is wonderful. Excellent!

Sarah gets off the podium. They’re clapping. She beams not because of the claps. I’ve done well, Sarah thought. The day ends. It is inevitable.

Testing Performancing.

2006-05-12T22:27:00.000-07:00

Performancing is a rather nifty tool. But I still need to figure out how it works. All good tools are not easy to learn. But a hammer is a good tool, and it is easy to learn. What gives?

Hooligans- Earth Gone Crazy (Part Two)

2006-05-07T08:28:00.000-07:00

I had walked for an entire day. And now, I was tired. So tired, in fact, that I actually checked into a four star hotel instead of a five star one.

To spend my night, of course.

The innkeeper, like everyone else, was a hooligan. However, he was a rather sober one. I was lucky to find such a sane idiot.

“Hello sir!” said the innkeeper.

“Hi. I’m looki-”

“For a room, yes. Unfortunately, all our rooms are full.”

“Well, uh, nevermi-”

“Of course we have a room! Was just kidding. Here are your keys…”

He handed me a keychain with probably twenty or thirty keys on it.

“Uh…which key is the right one?”

“All of them. There is no such thing as only one right key. Such a view is bigoted, close-minded and arrogant.”

“Uh…alright.” I said, and walked off to room 2734562895 where I was to spend my night.The room was nicer than I imagined. I guess it’s a five star hotel with a four star status. The bathroom was very clean. Shiny, sparkly clean.

Someone knocked on my door. I ran over to open it.

“Ciao mista uh er…”

“Just Mr. will do fine, thanks.”

“Ah yes, mista, no thank you.”

“Err?”

“Well, I was not saying that you can come to me anytime if you need anything.”

“Uhm, okay. Good night!”

“Good morning and hello!” she said and went off.

***

The flowers were everywhere. Pink, blue, yellow, green, purple, black. All of them, everywhere. It was terrifying.

“Son.” A voice called out.

“Who is that?” I asked, afraid.

“Be still. Know that I’m with you.”

“Aaah! Stay away evil one!”

“I shall give you the strength that you lack. I sha-”

“No! I don’t lack anything!”

“I shall give you a cup of coffee…”

“No! I hate coffee!”

“Alright then, I shall give you a cup of tea…”

“Yes, that’s much better!”

And then I woke up. What a dream. What a nightmare.

I shivered. The air conditioning was freezing cold. I fumbled for the controller in the darkness- found it- and made it a little warmer. Much better.

And then I fell back to sleep. Thankfully, without any nightmares.

The next morning, after brushing my teeth and washing my face, I walked straight over to the café where my breakfast was to be served.

Yum! My tummy full, I bid farewell to the innkeeper and went on my journey. But, before that, I asked him where to find this Jack Sparrow.

“Him? Well, try walking along the lonely street.”

“The lonely street? You mean on the boulevard of broken dreams?”

“Yes, yes.”

***

Three days and three nights of walking took their toll on me. I was tired. But finally I came upon a city. “Hooligania” the sign said.

“Not good.” I said to myself.

Out of nowhere, a hooligan came up to me.

“Hello my brother!”

I played along. He must not know I’m a pure born.

“Hello my brother!” I said, with my trademark Jamaican accent.

“You speak weird.” He said, and continued, “Would you like to be my partner in the Stuntliseum? It will be fun!”

“Well, I would love to. But I’m looking for this man named Jack Sparrow.”

“Ah him…yes, yes. I know him. But first you need to be my partner at the Stuntliseum. For awhile only. Then I’ll tell you where to find him.”

Sounds like a good deal. This “Stuntliseum” can’t be all that bad.

I was wrong. It was bad. Very bad.

I quaked like a Quaker. I was chained up to my partner. And given a “defense vest”. Made out of paper. Should be some good defense.

“Your objective,” said a voice coming from a loudspeaker above us. We were in a tunnel that lead into the Stuntliseum. Well, just imagine the gladiators coming into the arena at the Coliseum and you will save me the agony of describing it.

“Is to jump into a pit…” The voice paused. For effect.

“Filled with vertically pointing sticks.” Pause. More effect.

“Sharp sticks.”

I’m dead.

“Those who survive,” the voice continued.

“Will have to face the abomination of destruction.”

A loud gasp of fear resounded throughout the stadium.

I’m buried.

To Be Continued…

Subtleties

2006-05-06T07:08:00.000-07:00

I scrapped this story halfway. My lame (and pathetic) attempt at something resembling a horror/thriller story. If you really think I should continue with it, leave a comment. A positive one. Any other comments (or no comments) for that matter would be taken as a tacit approval of my correctness in this regard.
________________________________________

“Everyone!” someone said loudly. The loud chattering in the bus stopped- being replaced by silence- and twenty or so heads turned to the source of the voice.

“Listen and take note,” he- the man who was responsible for the silence- said. “We’re not at all expecting good weather. When we reach our campsite, I expect you to set up your tents as quickly as possible, without any procrastination.” He paused before continuing, “I don’t think we‘re going to have much recreational time today.” he said again.

“Thanks for the info, Mr. Gloomy.” Duane said a little too loudly.

“My name, boy,” the man said as he turned to address Duane, “is Mr. Horace, or if you find that too long, then sir. Do you understand?” he said in a different, much sterner, tone.

“Well, sir, who are you anyway?” Duane replied, rather rebelliously.

“Your coordinator, taking over from Mr. Ernst, who is on leave.” Horace said in response.

“Now,” the coordinator said, “I am now going to check whether everyone is here.”

“No need to tell us what you’re doing,” Duane muttered to his friend, Alex, as Mr. Horace proceeded to read from a list of names. With nobody absent, and the bus driver back from an unforeseen toilet break, the group were on their way.

***

“Hey Duane, nice show you put up there!” said Walter, coming up to Duane.

“Is that a complement or an insult?” he asked in reply.

“Oh, you may take that as a complement. I don’t like him as well.” Walter said, pointing to their camp coordinator.

“As far as I’m concerned,” put in Alex, “keeping our heads low is a good choice to go with at the moment.”

“Always the voice of reason, eh Alex?” Walter said cheerfully.

“He has a point.” someone said from behind them.

“Ah, I wished you agreed with me Liz...” said Walter, turning to her.

“Well, enough. I didn’t mean to start a ruckus.” Duane said while looking out of the bus window at the dark, foreboding clouds.

“A ruckus? Hardly.” Walter said one last time before returning to his seat.

The group of campers were about twenty minutes into their journey when it started pouring. A loud groan resounded throughout the bus the moment the first few drops hit the driver’s windshield. Mr. Horace looked unfazed.

“You heard what I said.” he reminded them.

“Uh, sir?” Liz said.

“What?”

“I’m curious as to the reason Mr. Ernst is not present. Is he sick or something?”

Mr. Horace looked at her sternly and answered, “Family matters.”

“Err...okay.” she said.

The whole bus was slowly drifting asleep thanks to the good combination of rain and air-conditioning.

“Alexander?” said Liz.

“Yeah?”

“It’s not exactly my business but, uh, I wanted to know why you didn’t want to join the reporting team for the school newsletter.”

“I guess you all really wanted me to join huh?”

“You guessed right. I hope you reconsider.”

“Hmm...”

“Ah, you’re not?” Liz sighed.

“I know you must think that I’m too proud to join but, well...”

“Well, what?”

But, before Alex could reply a loud voice woke up everyone- those asleep and half asleep.

“We’re here. Take your bags and assemble at the camping spot.” said Horace in his usual commanding voice. Alex quickly got up and walked away. Liz sensed he was hesitant to answer her question. Duane followed after him.

What was once a heavy downpour ten minutes ago was now a slight drizzle. It at least made organization a lot easier, at least for Horace. Within fifteen minutes everyone was up setting their tents and within an hour everyone was within them, reluctantly resting inside. Even though there was barely any rain now, “Nobody,” in the words of Mr. Horace, “is allowed to do anything until tomorrow.”

“Does that include obeying you?” Duane muttered under his breath as he heard it.

The full moon and the large campfire didn’t do much to dispel the thick darkness that surrounded them. A few boys were already sounding off the typical ghost stories.

Walter came up to Alex.

“I’m so jealous.” he said as he sat down next to him.

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, I know for sure that Liz has a crush on me, and yet she talks to you all the time. Weird.”

Alex couldn’t hold back a snicker.

“You laughing?”

“That’s quite a good joke...”

“Except it isn’t.” Walter replied, visibly annoyed.

Duane came up to them. “Mr. Horace says we can cook food now.” Duane said that with a tone of exasperation. “You guys are eating?”

“I am now.” Walter replied, getting up and heading to his tent. Alex shook his head. “I’m not hungry.” “Okay.” Duane said as he walked away.

“You still owe me an explanation, Alex.” said Liz as she came up to him a few minutes later. Alex wished he had went with Duane.

“Alright,” Alex said. “So?” Liz asked.

“It’s not my style.”

“Not your style? But I thought journalism was your thing... you were the best journalist in your last high school.” Liz replied, obviously not satisfied.

“No, it’s not that I don‘t like journalism. It’s your newspaper. It’s not my style.”

“I see.” said Liz and she turned around.

“Please don’t get upset. I didn’t mean....”

“Oh no, no ,no. It’s great, it’s fine.”

A loud shriek pierced the normal sound of the forest critters the moment Liz finished her sentence.

“What was that?” Liz asked, her face turning white. Everybody at the campsite turned to the sound of the shriek. Everyone was silent. “Alex what do you think that...” Liz turned around to ask him but he was gone. There was another shriek, this time louder than before. And another one followed it- this time from a different direction. And another from another direction. And another. And another.
A Few Hours Before...

“Jim, the dogs are acting weird again.”

“Have you given them any food?”

“Yes, but they’re not eating them.”

“Sheesh. Never mind, it’ll pass, like last time.”

“Last time a dog died.”

“Lets hope it stays at one this time, eh?”

***

“Duane, honey, please don’t take it the wrong way.”

“What other way is there to take it mom?”

“Look...we just had a fight. That’s all.”

“Had another fight. One that you said would never happen.”

“Honey, please...I didn’t mean to start it. It’s your dad again!”

“Yes, him again. I know.”

“Duane...”

“I’m getting fed up. Tired. Tired of this.”

“We’re doing our best. But know that we still both love you.”

***

“Liz, I need a favor from you.”

“What favor Nina? Is it about Alex?”

“Yes, that...maybe you can convince him?”

“Already thought about that. I’ll do my best. Wish me luck Nin!”

“Always!”

***

“Sir, we have a homicide on 11th of Berkeley. It’s Ernst Galen, sir.”

Alex opened his eyes. He felt tired. And then he remembered about last night.

“Hey Duane?” he turned to his right.

“What?” Duane replied. Obviously, he was still asleep.

“Uh, never mind. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

Alex got up as Duane grunted in reply. He unzipped the tent and felt the cold morning air against his face- mingled with a fair dose of sunshine. Cold and heat.

***

Andrew spilled his water. Indeed, everyone around him spilt something when they heard the loud shriek. Followed by another. “What is that?” Andrew said to himself, his heart pounding. He looked around. Everybody was running into their tents. Horace was running about with a bewildered look on his face, making sure everyone was in their tents.

He followed the multitude and ran as fast as he could to his tent. The moment he was inside, he zipped it and covered himself with blankets. But he realized Sean- his tent mate- was not with him.

Andrew quickly unzipped his tent and peeked outside. Nobody was outside.

“Sean!” he called out.

The rustle of the bushes nearby his tent caught his attention.

“Sean!” he yelled.

“Andrew!” came the reply from the bushes.

“Stay in your tents!” Horace called out from one of the tents he was hiding in.

He ignored Horace’s command and went after Sean.

“Sean! Where are you?” Andrew shouted.

Silence was the only thing that could be heard.

***

Alex heard a shriek. It was familiar.

Something caught his eye. Someone was running into the forest.

“What is he doing?!” Alex said under his breath.

“Sean!”

Andrew felt a hand on his shoulder. He let out a cry.

“It’s me, Alex!”

“Oh thank you. Sean’s missing.”

“I know, I saw him. Where did he go?”

“That makes the two of us!”

“Did you see which direction he went?”

“Over there.” Andrew pointed.

“Okay, I want you to head back.”

“No, I’m staying.”

“Alright, but stay close to me.”

The two of them slowly walked to the direction to which Sean ran. When they came out through the thick brush, they saw a gruesome sight. Andrew was speechless; his face turned pale and he stuttered. Alex gripped Andrew’s hand and ran -bringing Andrew along- back to the campsite.

“Mr. Horace. I think you should come take a look.” Alex said to him.

“What is it? Why aren’t you in your tents?” Horace said angrily, but then he caught sight of Andrew- who was close to fainting.

“It’s Sean, sir.” Alex said, his voice betraying nervousness.

***

Alex felt anger as he recollected what Horace said.

“Don’t tell them. They’ll panic.”

He repeated the words to himself.

Alex noticed that Andrew was up and awake- along with Horace. They were both nearby, eating their breakfast. Horace, obviously, was keeping a close watch on the youngest kid at the camp. Someone who couldn’t keep a terrible secret a secret. At least, not for long.

Alex felt hatred now. Something like this can never be kept a secret. They must know.

“Wonderful, Jim, absolutely wonderful.” Timothy said as he entered the office.

“What?” Jim asked, noticing the sarcasm.

“Three dogs dead this time. You better start some kind of charity or something ‘cause we only have one left.” Timothy said, his voice beginning to show anger now.

“Damn, Tim. Damn. What went wrong?” Jim said, trying to sound emphatic.

“Like the other one. Puked blood and died. Shit, it can’t go on any longer. They must have a disease or something...” Tim said, more to himself now than to Jim.

“Yes, yes. Tell you what, call up Gail and she what she can do.”

“Already. But she won’t be free until noon.”

“Okay. Then we wait. Look, I’m really sorry.”

***

Alex and Andrew ran back to the spot where they saw Sean, dead and decapitated. Following them closely was Horace. They reached it- but Sean’s body was gone. Horace however, shone his flashlight at the spot. The light pierced the darkness and revealed...blood. The thing that killed him must have dragged away his body.

“Don’t tell anyone.” said Horace in a shaky voice. “They’ll panic.”

***

Walter came up to Duane. Everybody was awake now, packing their bags at the order of Horace. Nobody disagreed with his command this time.

“What do you think that was?” Walter asked.

Duane shrugged and said, “Most probably some animal.”

“Animals.” corrected Walter.

“Whatever. They’re gone now.”

“I sure hope so.”

Michael came up to the two of them. “Have you guys seen Sean?” he asked. They both shook their heads. “Looking for him all day. Andrew says he hasn’t seen him. Horace says he’s somewhere around.”

“You believe him- Horace- I mean?” Walter asked.

“What is that suppose to mean? You mean he got lost or something and Horace ain’t telling?” Michael replied.
“He means,” Alex said to the three of them. The trio turned around to see what he had to say.

“Whether Sean was killed by the things last night.” finished Alex.

“Was he?” Duane asked. They were obviously looking for an answer from Alex. He-Alex- took a deep breath and said calmly, “Yes.”

“What!” Michael said in a bewildered tone.

“Calm down.” Alex said as he turned around to make sure no attention was on them.

“He’s dead?” Walter asked softly.

“Yes, and remember this: Don’t lose yourself. Keep cool. We’re leaving for the rangers’ cabin, about an hour’s walk from here.” said Alex. The three of them still couldn’t believe it. Alex noticed that.

“Look, we’re trying to make sense of it all. The best thing we can do right now is follow him,” Alex pointed to Horace, “and get out of this. Safely.” Alex told them that they could tell others if they wanted, as long as nobody told Horace that they knew what happened last night. The three nodded.

“Can’t we just phone the bus driver to come pick us up early?” Walter suggested.

“No hand phones, unfortunately.” Duane said.

“If only someone didn’t obey the rules...” Walter said disappointedly.

“Looks like everybody did.” Michael said in a strangely calm voice and walked away. Alex quickly caught up with him.

“What about his body?” Michael asked when he noticed Alex at his side.

“Taken by the creature.”

Michael didn’t say anything else. Alex knew he was in sorrow.

***

“Uh-huh? Gotcha. Good Lord. Alright.”

“What was that Jim?”

“Someone’s been murdered back at town. They want us to check on the kids camping here, because he was suppose to be with them.”

“The guy who was murdered?”

“Yeah. They asked us to keep a close watch, considering their connection.”
Duane noticed the fatigue of everyone in the group. They had been walking through the thick brush for nearly an hour. The rangers’ cabin was nowhere in sight. People were complaining. Especially considering what happened last night. The secret of Sean’s death was kept to the four people. Thankfully- at least for Horace- panic had not broken out as nobody seemed to notice Sean’s absence. He was, after all, like Andrew, just another twelve year old.

A sound of thunder was thrown into the noise of the forest. Horace’s worry was now visible. If they don’t reach there soon, rain will greatly increase their woes. Duane, however, was completely oblivious to what was going on. He was deep in thought.

***

Duane waited for both of his parents to leave before he went into their room. He made sure their car was nowhere in sight before he ventured to open a drawer in a cabinet. He slid in the key and turned it slowly.

He could see some papers. With names of lawyers on them. He picked up folded piece of paper and opened it. Duane read it slowly. He only noticed one word in it.

“Bankruptcy.” He whispered to himself.

***

Tim shook his head and spoke into the walkie-talkie.

“Jim, their not here. Judging from what I see, they’ve probably just left. Probably have taken the trail to our cabin.”

“Which one?”

“Since I didn’t meet them on the way, I guess they took the long cut.”

***

“Perfect.” Michael muttered. It was drizzling. They had now been walking for nearly two hours. And someone was soon going to utter the obvious truth.

“We’re lost!” a girl at the back yelled out.

“Don’t jump to conclusions. We don’t know yet. It doesn’t seem to be that we are off the trail.” Horace shot back.

“This is the worst outing ever.” somebody said.

It was now getting dark. The rain was slowly getting heavier. The group, although clearly aware of their predicament, were strangely silent. No complaints could be heard. Horace looked like giving up any moment. His mean, strict, cold exterior was completely stripped away- replaced by a frightened, confused one.

“Hey guys!” a voice called out from behind them. Everyone turned around, with hope on their faces. Tim came to them breathless.

“Thank God I found you.” he said.

“Where are we?” a boy asked.

“Don’t worry, you’re not lost...I, I’d suppose you’d be thinking that you were. You’re on the way to our cabin, but you just took a longer path.”

Everyone groaned.

“How long more before we reach it?” Horace said to Timothy.

“Uh, I think about an hour. We better go before it gets dark. The rain might get worse too.” Tim replied, before running in front and beckoning everyone to follow him. They all- including Horace- heeded.

Michael had been reflecting all along about what Alex said to him. About Sean. He was his cousin. His- Sean’s- parents would be grief stricken.

Hooligans- Earth Gone Crazy (Part One)

2006-05-04T06:05:00.000-07:00

A person jumped off a thirty story building. And then another. And another. And then, hundreds of them came falling down like rain from the roof. All of them landed on the sidewalk with loud splats, though the thudding became softer each second as the sound was dampened by the strewn corpses.

“New Guinness World Record!” a small boy yelled out. “Most people committing suicide in a single minute!” he continued.

I turned around when I heard loud laughter from behind me. People-hooligans, as they are called- were firing themselves from cannons into spray painted bulls-eyes on the wall. They hit it with a loud smack. I noticed that the walls were a thick red. And I shook my head at this mayhem.

“My child,” a voice that sounded croaky said from behind me. I turned around and I faced an old, hunched man holding a stick that looked like it belonged to his great grandfather. The stick was old. The old man was old. “What do you want, old man?” I said to him.

“It wasn’t always like this. You’re pure born, aints it?” the old man said to me. “I’m not like them if that’s what you mean.” I replied. He didn’t look like he was pure born, though. “Who are you?” I asked him. The old man apparently didn’t heed my question. He continued, “Yes of course. These- these hooligans were created by someone. Things got out of control. They took control of the world.”

“Who created them?” although the old man was probably mad, I still couldn’t help but want to know what he had to say. “Paki Up Ump Papi Hup Huh Duh Da...” “Stop blabbering!” I shouted at him and proceeded to slap his face. “Hadladkap Musi, in short.” he said, apparently cutting to the chase. That’s more like it.

“They were a genetic experiment created by him when Hadladkap was just a small lil boy.” the old man said, drifting off into a long grandfather story. I sighed and sat down to listen to his mad ramblings.

About sixty or so years ago, Hadladkap unleashed his experiments into the world. The hooligans were virtually invincible. They were mad, though. And they wrecked the world- like a three year old would do to a kitchen.

They thrashed space exploration when they crashed all of NASA’s shuttles. As for the Russians, they nuked them. Don’t ask me why how they took control of the nuclear missiles- I’m not very good when it comes to logic. Anyway, they destroyed human beings when they stole Hadladkap’s anti-infertility device. It released a shockwave throughout the entire world that rendered all males and females (they’re called humans, for your information) infertile. Meaning that they are not able to have cuddlies of their own.

Thus the humans were technically extinct. But wait- Hadladkap had another device up his sleeves. He wanted to be certain- epistemologically certain, mind you- that the only human left on this earth was himself. So he created the “Humanuke Em”. It releases a shockwave that kills all humans throughout the entire world. Hadladkap had to hide himself in a machine that protected him from his own weapon of mass destruction. It was called the “Hidey Hole”. Hadladkap accidentally set the device to put him into warp-stasis for sixty years instead of sixty seconds. Thus he is stuck there- but not for long. In a few days time he shall reawaken and regain control of his hooligans.

“What does he intend to do?” I asked, the moment the old man stopped to take a breath.

“Ah yes.” He replied. And then he continued his grandfather story.

“You see, my child: Hadladkap wanted himself to be the only rational being on Earth. That was his ultimate purpose. Not to listen to music from his iPod for the rest of his life or to chase after women, mind you, but to be the smartest person alive on earth. The only one.

But unbeknownst to him, there was a race of creatures that lived underwater- Ganguns, they are called. They were not discovered by him. And their technology and empire has grown throughout these six decades. I think that when Hadladkap awakes, he will definitely stumble upon them and destroy them. And that’s where you come in, my child.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You have to go to the Ganguns and warn them. They are the only ones who can contact the Jedeis, a race of warriors who are the most powerful in the universe. They- the Jedeis- are the only ones who can stop Hadladkap.”

I was indifferent. “Why don’t you go?” I said.

“Cants. Only pure borns can enter the gate of Gangun.”

“So you’re not pure born then. What are you?”

“I’m impure born! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAH--AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

His laughing turned into cries of agony as I took his walking stick from him and whacked it straight on his head. His face fell flat onto the hard tar.

“Aaaaah!” he cried in a muffled voice. Apparently, it was difficult for him to extract himself from the cement. I reached down, grabbed his bald head and pulled him out.

“Ah!” he said. “Much better. Thanks.” He rubbed his nose. It dropped off, and blood spurted out like a fountain from his nose, landing thirty feet away. “Aaaaah!” he cried, but then he quickly reached down to his nose and stuffed it back.

“There. Much better.” he said, as he pressed his nose again a few times to make sure it fit.

I was struck with a feeling of boredom. And suddenly, a brilliant and completely original idea hit me- I’m going to save the world!

“I’m going to save the world!” I said loudly to him. The old man smiled. “Ah yes, yes, save the word. But before you do that, you first need to find a certain Jack Sparrow.”

“Jack Sparrow? Who is he?”

“Beats mah friggin’ brains out.” the old man replied and shrugged.

I got angry and punched his face. But when my fist landed on the side of his face, it felt like I hit hard rock.

“Aaaah!” I groaned.

“Hehehehehe. I have the power of rock skin. Ahahahah!” he yelled at me like a mad man.

Suddenly, his head popped out his neck socket like a jack in the box.

“Oops!” his head said, before continuing, “what you are about to witness is rated NC-17!” and winked at me.

His arms started popping off, followed by gushes of blood. His legs then came off, and for the finale, his body exploded. Strangely enough, no chunks of flesh or blood could be seen. It was only the hard tar of the cement road.

“Weird.” I muttered to myself and walked forward.

It would be the first step of my great journey!

The Paper Lighthouse

2006-05-04T06:01:00.000-07:00

Some commentary is required. This story is part nonsense story and part slight satire on some issues in my country (Malaysia). Unless you are familiar with them, you probably will not notice the parallels I draw. (E.g. Aryans, 15% discount, Kutadships). Anyway, enjoy!

___________________________________
Prince Democracy (yes, that is his name) was quite intrigued when he heard about the Paper Lighthouse.

“And so,” Mr. Fairytale said, “this is the story of the Paper Lighthouse.”

“Intriguing indeed. Very intriguing.” Democracy said to himself the moment Mr. Fairytale ended.

“So. Where is my cash?” Mr. Fairytale asked.

“How dare you show such contempt to me!” raged Prince Democracy. “Off with his head!”

Thus, Mr. Fairytale’s existence came to an abrupt end.

***

Across the ocean, the very same tale of the Paper Lighthouse came to the ears of King Communism. The Messenger (so was the name of the person who brought the tale to King Communism) intrigued the King with “an amazingly intriguing story” (so was the King‘s words).

“So,” said the Messenger. “Where’s my cash?”

King Communism nodded and clapped his hands. A briefcase filled with 3 dollar bills amounting to 3 billion dollars was handed to the Messenger.

***

At this moment, I suppose you must be thinking this: “What in the world is the amazingly intriguing story of the Paper Lighthouse?”

Well, I thought you would think so. So, here it is.

(A long, long time ago)

There was a man who had a simple name- Constructor. Constructor wanted to build something, but did not know what to build. So, he asked a guy with the complicated name of Architect to help. Architect drew up some plans and gave it to Constructor.

During those days, unlike now, one needed to ask permission from the local council office if one wanted to build a building.

Also, during those days (unlike now) the local council office was much more rude and unreliable. Thus, they required three conditions to be fulfilled by Constructor.

These three conditions were as follows:

1. All Aryans must be allowed 15% discount if they wish to purchase the building. Failure to comply will result in a personal visit from (or to) King A.H.

(Okay, I can live with that.)

2. A cafeteria MUST be built. The food served must be nutritious, healthy, low in fat and must follow the food pyramid.

(Uh...sure.)

But the last and the most hardest condition were as follows:

3. No cement, brick, mortar or steel can be used during construction, as they are not kosher.

(Hmm. This is going to be difficult.)

You might think you know where this is headed:

“And so Constructor decided to use paper and managed to build his lighthouse and lived happily ever after.”

But you thought wrong. I am not known for my predictability. Mysterious, shocking revelations are on the way, but yet to come. In fact, they might never come.

Anyway, Constructor was in a fix. He needed help. So, he went to a good friend who was called Karl.

“Hullo mate!” Karl greeted him, speaking in the Marxist accent. “What can I do for ya ?”

Constructor handed him the piece of paper in which the three conditions were listed.

“Read number three. I’m having trouble there.” Constructor said.

“Ah yes. That stumps me too. But I think I know someone who can help.”

“Who might that be?”

“Two people, actually. They might be both of help.” Karl wrote down their names and addresses and handed it to Constructor.

Constructor thanked Karl and was on his way. First stop was a man by the name of Stupid Idiot.

“Hello Stupid Idiot.” Constructor said.

“Hi! How may I help you?” Stupid Idiot replied.

Constructor told him about his predicament. Stupid Idiot looked contemplative. After a few minutes of deep thought, Stupid Idiot said:

“There’s not much I’ve come up with. But you’re building a light house, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then you might try using paper. It is quite a sturdy material that can hold up against fire and water quite well. In fact, it's quite impervious to any wear and tear.”

“I’ve never heard of it before. Where might I get it?”

“That I do not know. Sorry, my child.”

“No problem. Thanks for your help Stupid Idiot.”

“What did you just say?”

“Uh...thanks a lot.”

“No, you called me a stupid idiot!”

“But you are!”

“No I am not! I am a smart intelligent person you unappreciative jar of lard!”

Constructor ran away as fast as his feet could take him, with Stupid Idiot running after him shouting curses. Thankfully, Constructor managed to get away. His next and final stop was a man named Bob.

“Hi!” Constructor said. He was happy as he saw some common ground- Bob was a builder.

“Hey! You’re Constructor right?” Bob said.

“Yeah. You’ve got some nice equipment here.”

“Thanks. So ...what brings you to my humble shop?”

“Paper, actually. I was wondering whether you have any of it or know where to get it.”

“In fact I do. Just arrived yesterday. I don’t see the use of it, though. You can have it if you want them for cheap.”

“Thanks.”

And so Constructor managed to obtain the material he needed to build his lighthouse. He immediately set to work, using illegal immigrants with expired work permits. Strangely enough, they were not ruled out in the three conditions set forth by the city council.

(Probably because the workers were Aryans.)

It took exactly 444 days for the Paper Lighthouse to be completed.

(Probably why no Chinese were among the illegal workers.)

At exactly 445 days, the Paper Lighthouse was officially opened to the public. The local city council praised Constructor for complying magnificently with their conditions. In reward, they awarded him a Kutadship.

On one very rainy night, a lightning struck the lighthouse. It was immediately set ablaze. The local fire crew came by to try to extinguish the flame. They endured the icy cold winds and the freezing rain to put out the fire with their hoses. It was only in the morning, when the rain stopped, that they managed to put out the fire. In reward, the fireman were awarded Kutadships.

But something caught the eyes of the firemen and made Constructor faint. It was revealed that the Paper Lighthouse was just an ordinary lighthouse after all- made with all the un-Kosher stuff that were banned in the Three Conditions.

Constructor had merely used the paper as a covering!

In the end, Constructor had his Kutadship revoked, and was jailed in disgrace.

***

Was that intriguing? I’m sure it was.

So...

Where’s my cash?