“Ooooh.”
“Oh good, he’s waking up,” a butler's voice called out to Clever Guy. “You’ve had a very nasty adventure, I see.”
Clever Guy bounced at the sudden awareness of the newcomer, and instantly regretted it. “Who the- *Geeeth*”
“If you wouldn’t mind, my good sir, I think it would be best if you don’t move too much. You have glass imbedded in your arms. If you continue to exercise your joints, the glass will simply dig deeper into your tissue. Then again, who am I to say what you should or shouldn’t do?”
With a turn of the head, Clever Guy faced his overseer, “Who are you? Some sort of Wise Guy? Huh? I’ll make my decisions for myself. Thank you very much.” With that, Clever Guy got up. Between his teeth, he was screaming about how much the glass hurt, but it was nothing audible.
There was a pause. “Please sir, I have heard that joke far too many times. It has indeed gotten quite old.”
“What joke? Does it look like I’m laughing?” Clever Guy got a better look at the newcomer. He was a blue Shy Guy with parted black stringy hair, he was about Clever Guy’s height and wore an identical white lab coat save for a minor detail: various parts of the Blue Shy Guy’s labcoat were torn off. Further examination revealed that the torn shards of coat were replacing the once that Clever Guy had partly managed to do while clinging to Exor. Speaking of which...
“No sir, it’s just that... never mind. It’s best that you don’t understand,” The blue Shy Guy responded.
“Might I at least know your name?” Clever Guy asked as he made casual glances here and there for his missing sword.
“... I would prefer it that I be addressed as “Philosophical Guy, or Phil Guy for short.
Clever Guy looked around. He was in a forest. It was fairly calm and quiet. The only things that seemed out of place were some tire skid tracks and a rather large area of ashes. Genius Guy and his cohorts were nowhere to be seen. “They must have all left while I was unconscious,” Clever Guy concluded.
“You seem to have something on your mind. Could this be it?” The blue Shy Guy reached behind his back and removed the Exor sword.
Taken aback, Clever Guy was about to open his mouth but Phil Guy stopped him.
“Quite... an achievement, I would say,” Phil Guy spoke in his butler-ish accent. “It reminds me of another sword I’ve seen, only it was... huh, well... I’m only rambling.”
Clever Guy could not put down this easy chance at a one liner. “I can tell.”
“I take it you, my good sir, are not much for tact.” Phil Guy raised an eyebrow.
“And you have a knack for putting your nose into other people’s business.”
“Well... *cough* We might as well head on up to my ship.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. You, sir, are in no condition to be out and about like that.”
“I’m afraid that I must respectfully decline.” Clever-Guy was getting quite annoyed with Phil Guy. “I do have some things that I must attend to, so I really must be leaving. And even if that weren’t the case, I’m not sure I would prefer to be traveling in present company.”
Phil-Guy chuckled. “Sir, I do believe that you are attempting to mislead me. Here we are, out in one of the most secluded areas of Plit, and here you are with your life draining from you and you deny aid? You must be in greater need of help then I originally anticipated.”
Clever Guy had had it with this fowl-mouthed duplicate. He pulled out his pen and aimed it at Phil Guy while his other hand clutched his most achy injury. “I assure you... I think I can handle myself.” Clever-Guy pulled one of his sickening grins and slowly cocked a eyebrow. “Do you really want to test me? This pen packs more then ink.”
Phil Guy made one of those restrained laughs that butlers do, “I see... I offer to fix you up, and make some comments about how there’s no chance that you’re going to make it. Then you respond by pointing a pen at me. *humf* Is that the sort of thanks I get? Besides, you aren’t thinking clearly. The blood’s not circulating very well. It would be best if you would save your strength.”
“I don’t care what you think!” Clever Guy burst out, and then passed out.
Chapter 12: Kitchen Chronicles
The kitchen was a mess.
It was the mess to define all other messes.
It was the sort of mess that made all over messes compare themselves to the great mess in this particular kitchen.
It was such a mess, that it made the U.S. Department of Motor Vehicles seem warm, organized, and inviting on a Monday after a 3-day weekend.
Half eaten chicken legs lined the counter tops, banana peals covered the floor, aluminum cans of spaghetti-o’s lined the tables, half eaten waffles with syrup were sticking to the ceiling, and the resident chef was forced to make light conversation with the rutabagas from his imprisonment in the vegetable closet.
“So what do you think of the current affairs of the Nimbian senate?”
The rutabagas ignored their newfound conversationalist. These particular vegetables had been enjoying themselves greatly before being forced to share their hidey-hole with a cloud being. Or least, they had been enjoying themselves as much as a set of inanimate vegetables encased in plastic wrap can.
“Hmm, okay... Since you all seem to be a bit shy, perhaps I should take the lead,” the cook spoke ignorantly to his vegetable companions, “or maybe a change of subject is in order?”
Still the vegetables did not respond.
“Okay, perhaps politics is too great a subject,” the cook sighed. “Perhaps you’d all be more willing to speak to me, had I not been around. Then again, I wouldn’t have been here had the prince and his friend not shoved me in here.”
The vegetables continued to be inanimate... this time with a vengeance. Or at least they became inanimate as much as a set of already inanimate vegetables can be. Which is not much at all. Zero really... I mean they’re inanimate already. So what stupid business do they have trying to become more inanimate then they already are?!
The world continued to be ignorant of the narrator, because it is their job to ignore the narrator, whose name happens to be Garry. But then again, you don’t know Garry unless you know why Bob isn’t the narrator... So there!
The weird cook looked through the keyhole in the vegetable closet. Mallow and Ryan-oshi were now scouring the cabinets for something more to eat that didn’t already line the room in inedible forms, such as the stove with the burning eggs on them... or the oven with the salad.
“Darn, there’s nothing in here either,” Ryan-oshi concluded.
Mallow opened the last cabinet. “Aww... there’s no food in here either.”
“I guess we ate everything.”
*Click Click*
“... That wasn’t the chef was it?” Ryan-oshi asked.
“I don’t think so...”
*Click click... Click click*
Mallow started to panic as he saw that the main entrance door knob was rattling. “Oh no! Someone’s about to enter the kitchen! Quick! Ryan-oshi, hide the mess!”
Ryan-oshi jumped to attention... then took one looooong glance at the current state of the kitchen. “Mallow... there is no way-”
“Of course there is! It was your idea! You have to think of something!” Mallow protested as a spork fell from its spot on the underside of a table.
“MY idea? Who’s bright idea was it to run into the kitchen and have a snack?!”
*clickity-click-click*
“Yeah well... um...” There was a pause, that coming from Mallow at this particular point and time could only be traced to a moment of pure stupidity, “Um... well... whose fault is it for eating over half of it?!”
“Now, don’t you go and shift the blame on me...” spoke the Yoshi who was in the midst of licking the jelly off his fingers. “Delicious” was what Ryan-oshi would’ve said about the jelly had someone been reading his mind.
“Oh dear... Where’d I put the keys?” a jolly voice bellowed from behind the door.
“HIDE!!!” Mallow screamed. “It’s my dad!”
“That old coot? Shouldn’t he be on a diet or something?” Ryan-oshi asked as they dove into the pot and pan closet with Mallow soon after.
From wherever you may be right now, whether it be in the vegetable closet trapped against your will and trying to make light conversation about the lighting, or with guilty company in the pot and pan closet, the view of events is more or less the same.
There was the sound of a door with a key fiddling attempting to unlatch.
“Ho-ho ho!”
The door creaked open, the hearts of Ryan-oshi and Mallow stopped for an entire three seconds.
“DEAR!!!”
The door quickly slammed closed, Ryan-oshi assumed that the king was holding his back to the double doors and sweating profusely. Mallow assumed that the coast was clear and carefully attempted to creep out of the pot and pan closet.
The unnamed cloud chef assumed that the vegetables weren’t speaking to him on the subject of the shapes of lamp posts because deep down inside they had a very acute fear of such things. So he was minding his time by attempting to console the vegetables into believing that lamp posts are really nothing to be afraid of.
“Dear! There you are! I thought that the figure you spoke of got to you,” the queen called.
“Erm, well *cough*”
“Well, there’s no time for chitchat, we best get going to the ceremony.”
“Err, um. Yeah...” The king continued to stutter...
“We best be ready for that evil character you spoke of... How did you ever manage to escape?! Is he in that room?”
“Err... uh... he-he. Er, yes, you see... I was just about to lock the door so he’d stay in there.” The sounds of a key exiting the door followed.
“Oh good dear, we best call for security!”
“Oh oh! No need for that. I’ve already got our best men on it...” King Nimbus lied.
“Oh good, I don’t want anything to ruin our special day.”
The baby giggled.
“Aww... Well, we best be off!” the queen bubbled.
“All right dear.”
...
...
“I think the coast is clear,” Ryan-oshi said.
Mallow checked the door, “Oh no... my dad has locked the door from his side.”
“Wait... how could he have locked us in if he was locked out? Shouldn’t you always be able to exit freely from one side?” Ryan-oshi philosophized.
“Yeah well... it’s that stupid author and his plot convinces...” Mallow concluded.
“Author? Plot connivences?”
“Never mind. Anyways, it looks like we’re stuck here,” Mallow sighed.
“Mallow, wouldn’t it be nice if something happened really soon that allowed us to escape and make it in time?” Ryan-oshi asked.
“Yeah right... What is going to happen in the next few seconds? Nothing but nothing could get us out of the kitchen without the key.”
A large commotion was heard from the vegetable closet. Then it stopped. Mallow and Ryan-oshi eyed the closet suspiciously...
...
BAM! The closet burst open in an explosion of wood and vegetables. The chef formerly confined to that location also came flying out.
When the debris settled and managed to make the place look a bit neater by covering up some of the foodstuffs, a tall figure stood ominously in the doorway. He wore a hood over his head and his cloak was dark, nearly black. He stood poised, motionless, and very intimidating. A rope belt around his waste was uninteresting save for its only accessory, a sheath, an empty one at that. In his left hand was the sword it was made for.
He breathed deeply. His hands were at his sides and the sword was parallel to the ground.
Mallow and Ryan-oshi took a step backwards.
“Who are you?! And what are you doing in my kitchen?!” Mallow demanded.
“Isn’t that the sort of question you ask your in-laws after they arrive uninvited to dinner?” Ryan-oshi asked.
“Shh!”
“I have come...” the hooded figure spoke. His voice seemed different, like the sort of voice that was born to a world of destruction and greed, the sort of voice that seemed to be coming from all directions at once, and yet, from no single place in particular, “for the one who will bring in a new dark age. Those who get in my way will be destroyed.”
“Isn’t that a cue for a Dragon Ball fight scene? You two-bit invader.” Ryan-oshi took a step up to the intruder.
The hooded figure expressed his distaste for the stance by pointing the sword up and then at Ryan-oshi with a blare of purple energy. Ryan-oshi took a quick dodge to the left. In a scant second, the kitchen door was blown to pieces.
“I have more pressing matters to deal with,” the distant voice spoke. With that, the mysterious person’s clothes began to ripple, and soon he was levitated perfectly off the ground. It was as if the whole world simply fell six inches while this person stayed perfectly in place. Then without a single bodily motion, the intruder floated off and down the main hallway.
Mallow and Ryan-oshi stood frozen. It took about half a minute before Ryan-oshi reclaimed reality and shook Mallow vigorously.
“Come on! We have to warn people!” Ryan-oshi wailed.
“Uhhh... MAN that guy is intimidating.”
“Intimidation insh-imidation... we have to go stop him!” Ryan-oshi ordered.
“W’d better ring for help!” Mallow ran to a nearby wall and dialed security. After a pause, Mallow hung up in disgust, “GRAH!!! Everyone’s at the ceremony.”
“Then it’s up to us.”
“Yeah, so what? We haven’t a clue why he’d be here. I mean, what is here he wants?”
...
“THE BABY!!!” they both shouted at once.
Ryan-oshi exclaimed, “He’s here to ruin the ceremony!”
“No way no how!” Mallow cried.
“Where’s the ceremony going to be held?” Ryan-oshi asked.
“Right next to the exit of the castle grounds.”
“Let's go!” The two friends ran out of the room through the busted doorway.
The chef, who had somehow managed to be forgotten all this time, found it strikingly odd that a vegetable would become an evil force just because he started to tell the cucumber about how he overcame his fear of lamp posts using a large metal bat and some toe jam.
To Be Continued...
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