|
Yo' Mummy p3
By CeratosPit
Two large guards dragged O’Conartist through a hallway and threw him face first into a dusty battle arena outside of the prison. It was a poorly made knockoff of the Roman Coliseum. Only a half of it was surrounded by large walls, on top of which were benches for sPectators to watch the action from. The other half was surrounded large, jagged boulders. The benches were filled with screaming prisoners. And right over the door of the large hallway he was rudely thrown out of, was a furnished booth occupied by the warden and a few other guards. “You shouldn’t have killed that skeleton, O’Conartist! Because now you are going to die! Ha ha!”
“I wouldn’t have killed it if it would’ve just shut the Hell up!” O’Conartist shouted. “I didn’t know ‘WHO’ I was wearing, and it just kept yapping! You would have done the same thing!”
“Maybe!” the warden admitted. “But I wouldn’t be sentenced to a deathmatch, because I have a higher position in society than you do! And in the end, that’s what really matters in life, not whether you’re right or wrong about something as many people would have you believe!”
“Yeah, yeah, look, do I get a weapon or not?” O’Conartist asked.
“Of course! It is only fair!” the warden complied. He threw something down to O’Conartist’s feet. It was the handle of a knife.
“A switchblade!?” O’Conartist exclaimed. “I sure hope that my opponent is armed with a sewing needle!”
“Actually, Mr. O’Conartist, you’re opponent is by totally unarmed! By his standards anyway.” The warden than turned to another guard. “Release the Orcabear!”
“Orcabear!?” O’Conartist asked. The doors of the hallway he had passed through a minute ago reopened, revealing a massive killer whale walking on bear limbs. It squeaked like a very loud dolphin when it saw O’Conartist. The young man held up his switchblade and released the…comb. “This isn’t a switchblade!”
“Oh it’s isn’t?” asked the warden sarcastically. “My bad! I must have thrown you my comb by accident!” He shrugged and laughed.
“Well, that would explain why it’s all greasy, covered with lice and, uh…” O’Conartist sniffed the comb. “…Smells like pig feces!”
The warden growled. “I have had enough of your insolence! Orcabear! Eat him!” And much to his amusement, his ursine whale chased the screaming prisoner all around the arena. From his right, Juanathan and Nevessa entered the booth. “Hey, guys! Pull up a seat! Your friend is fish food!”
“Yes about that.” Juanathan explained. “We were wondering if perhaps you can, well, let him go.”
“What?” the warden asked surprised. “You’re joking, right? No, I’m not going to let him go!”
“Oh really?” Nevessa asked before pulling out a bag from Taco Bell. “Not even for these delicious Gorditas?”
The warden turned his attention from the action below to the bag of Gorditas. It was as if they knew his weakness. “Gorditas? B-but, the nearest Taco Bell isn’t for four hundred miles!”
“And we just flew in from Cairo!” Juanathan told him. “So what do you say?”
“I say…” the warden snatched the bag from Juanathan. “…For trying to bribe a government official, you two are hereby sentenced to death! Guard!”
With that, a large guard pushed Juanathan and Nevessa out of the booth and they landed on the dusty ground below. When they looked up they saw O’Conartist run up to them. “What are you guys doing here!?” he asked them while running in place.
“We tried to bribe that awful warden with Gorditas to let you go, and he threw us in!” Nevessa answered him.
“Gorditas?” O’Conartist said looking up. He saw the warden pull a Gordita out of the bag he held in his other hand. He then looked at the comb in his hand. “Here goes nothing.” O’Conartist said as he hurled the comb up into the eye of the warden above. With a scream, the curator of the jail dropped the bag and separate Gordita into O’Conartist’s hands below.
“Agh! There’s lice in my eye!” screamed the warden. “There’s greasy, smelly lice in my eye!”
The Orcabear was ready to pounce on O’Conartist from behind, when the prisoner turned around with the Gordita in hand. “Not one more step, Orcabear!” the would-be victim commanded. “ I hold in my hand these scrumptious Gorditas! Unfathomably delicious treats that your cruel master has never shared. Here. Try one.” O’Conartist tossed the Gordita into beast’s mouth. Apparently, it enjoyed the treat. The Orcabear sat up and begged. “Yes, Orcabear! You like the treats, don’t you? Well, I have a whole bag of them, and they’re all yours if you swear your allegiance to me!”
Orcabear looked up at his master. He was screaming like a banshee, trying to pull the sharp come out of his eye. Then, it looked down at O’Conartist who was holding a bag of Gorditas while smiling. This wasn’t a big decision for the much abused monster. It lowered it’s head to let O’Conartist on it’s back. Along with it’s new master, Orcabear let Juanathan and Nevessa on his back as well. “Good freak of nature!” O’Conartist praised. “Now, on to freedom!” he said pointing to the stone wall on the other side of the arena where a small boy stood waving. Orcabear started running in the indicated direction.
“Oh no you don’t!” screamed the warden. “I still have one eye to see what you are doing! Guard! Release Cowolf and Camelion!” The guard nodded and pulled a lever which reopened the large doors. Out ran two more monstrous hybrids. One was a large wolf with horns and an udder. The other was camel with the head and paws of a lion. The two smaller, and slightly less terrifying monsters chased Orcawhale up to the stone wall where the small boy stood atop of.
With a leap of it’s mighty bear legs, it leapt clear over the stone wall while the little boy below watched in awe. “Fuzzy!” O’Conartist called to the child. “Grab the tail!” Obeying the escaped convict, Fuzzy grabbed hold of the Orcabear’s tail fin and didn’t let go.
When Cowolf and Camelion tried to make the jump, they just crashed into the rocks and fell back into the arena! “Idiots!” screamed the warden. “I sPliced with lions and wolves, not lazy unathletic two toed sloths! No food for three weeks for either of you!” Cowolf and Camelion looked at each other, then at the one-eyed warden and growled. “What are you two growling at, you growling growlers!?” The two remaining hybrids ran back across the arena and jumped into the warden’s booth. “Bad mutants! Very bad mutants!” were the last things he yelled before they ate him.
Back out in the desert, Orcabear slowed down to a quick trot. “Yee-haw!” O’Conartist cried. “So, we off to Hamenothebomaptra?”
“Well, we certainly can’t return to that city.” Nevessa told him. “Off to the city of the dead, I suppose.”
“I say, O’Conartist?” Juanathan asked. “Who is this delightful young imp that procured a ride with us?”
“That’s my illegitimate son, Fuzzy O’Conartist.”
“Hey, dad!” Fuzzy called from the back of the Orcabear. “Did you know that a booby can weigh two pounds?”
“Actually son, in my experience they can get a whole lot bigger than that!” O’Conartist told him. “Not naturally of course, but…”
“sPeaking of nature,” Juanathan whisPered. “How did that boy get so, well…”
“Fuzzy?” O’Conartist finished his sentence. It was true, the eight year old boy already had facial hair and what looked like it was going to become a unibrow. “Yeah, he got that from his mom.” O’Conartist pulled out his wallet, opened it up and showed Juanathan a picture inside.
Juan’s eyes began to steam. “AAAAAAGH!!! It Burns! It Burns!” he screamed. Juanathan closed the wallet and tossed it out into the desert. “That was in all likelihood, the foulest thing I-- how on Earth did you mate with that!?
“What can I say?” O’Conartist asked. “I had a lot to drink that night.”
“There isn’t enough tequila in all of Latin America to make that image remotely attractive.”
“Yeah, sPeaking of which, let me just get this out of the way.” O’Conartist asked a tad nervously. “You’re Puerto Rican, she’s South African, and yet you’re both British as well as being brother and sister.”
“Quite right.” Juanathan agreed.
“And your point being…?” Nevessa asked.
“Nothing.” said O’Conartist. “Nothing at all.”
And so, the four adventurers rode their Orcabear to the ancient city of Hamenothebomaptra. Little did they know, however, that they were being watched. A hand cloaked in a long, black sleeve picked up O'Conartist's wallet. It might have come in handy.
2 B Continued...
3/31/2003 1:50:45 PM
Comment on this fan fiction!
|
|
|
