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Sharkey's Bad Post Day-prologue
By Dac
Yeah, I’m up there.
Up on the throne.
Sharkey, king of all the land.
But who are all those strange characters around my throne, you ask? The squirrel with body armor, the pitchfork, the paintbrush, the paint can, the stitched-up mouse, the cog and the two weasels?
Well, it all started yesterday. And what a day that was. It was what I called a “Bad Post Day”.
Jurassicchic31 was doing some stretches with her Walkman going when the phone rang. She didn’t pick it up. She knew who it was. I got the answering machine:
“Hello. You’ve reached, like, Jurassicchic31’s place.
I can’t come to the phone right now, obviously!
But if you leave your, like, name and number,
And sound cute,
I might get back to you.
Ciao!”
I started talking.
“Hey, Jchic, if you’re there, pick up.
Jchic!
Oh, anyway, I’m gonna be a little late tonight.
I met a couple of guys at the bar.
Said they were going off to, I dunno, fight some war somewhere, so I’ll be a little late.”
“Sharkey, put the phone down!” called one of my mates.
“O.K., bye.”
I placed the receiver down and grinned to myself.
“I think she bought it!”
Then I turned back to my friends.
“Right, who’s round is it?”
“Yours!”
“What again? Man!”
The hours wore on…and on…and on, when, at One a.m., I decided,
“No, I’ve had enough, I’m going now. Wait, no, that’s the toilets…”
Eventually, I staggered out the door of the Cock and Plucker, where a Velociraptor stone layer was putting a tablet down.
“Doesn’t look too good tonight!” I muttered, then I realized I couldn’t hold my drinks.
I threw up all over the tablet, and the raptor hissed at me in rage.
“Oh, he-he, sorry about that. Gotta go.”
And with that, I stumbled off, away from the Cock and Plucker and the pissed off reptile. I went down a hard to remember track, and found myself looking at a sign. In my drunken stupor, I couldn’t make out the words, and because I was so fixed on it, I didn’t notice a few wasps fly past, carrying a beehive. Still dumbfounded by the sign, I wandered up a path behind me.
Little did I know, something was happening in Madblast Castle, not too far away from Dan’s JP3 Page…
The main person involved with this tragedy was someone I thought only existed in legends: The Fabled Vader King, a large panther that wore a small gold crown and a thin black robe. He was contemplating his broken table (it had a leg missing) when one of his weasel henchman, Dac, held up a small white carton with blue stripes, while the other weasel, Dan, stood by the door.
“More milk, sire?” asked Dac.
“Hmm…yes,” replied the Vader King in his soft, menacing voice.
Dac poured the milk into a glass and handed it to the king.
The king drained half the glass, and set it down on the table. However, the three-legged table rocked, and the glass fell off. Dac gulped. Then the Vader King gave an enormous roar, and both long, lanky Dac and short, squat Dan cowered in fear.
1/21/02 3:10:47 AM
(Updated: 1/21/02 3:32:37 AM)
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