(I ran out of ideas for blog posts until I remembered
a certain story I kind-of ended. o-o So, uh, I'll probably be making a fool of myself writing this - again - but meh, I make a fool of myself every blog post, so there's frankly nothing new with that. :3 I recommend you read it first before going on here. So, uh, ENJOY.)
Wait.
I just realized I forgot where I left off.
Stay here just a moment, my fair frolicking reader, while I go back to the link above to reread the story.
...
AH YES. THERE IT IS.
Well, this is exactly what happened next...
You're armed for your new and totally unanticipated adventure with a weird and totally unpredictable ninja beside you. You're staring at the river. Dramatic music plays in the background. Very dramatic, as in, Beethoven Symphony 9, perhaps. (If you're not such a friend of Beethoven, please turn to someone who I'm sure is a good friend of yours - Google.)
You sigh. It's time to leave your neat and comfortable life to find a new guardian for the Leg of Bee Zee. (You decided to call it that, anyway, since it had a nice poetic ring to it.) Are you ready? Are you ready to face the dangers, the obstacles, the discomforts that lie ahead of you?
Bee Zee, on the other hand, is not sympathetic of your plight at all. He is sitting at the river banks, playing with his remaining leg and making whooshing sounds. (From the gestures and expressions on his face - and the KABOOM he yelled at the end - you guess that he just reenacted a beautiful plane crash.)
"Come on, Bee Zee," you mutter, tugging on your backpack straps and trudging, slowly, to wherever fate would bring you.
The ninja hops after you with eagerness. "Ugga lacka chaka? Go da?"
"Sorry, I can't keep your leg," you apologize, raising the squishy, fleshy cylinder thing in your hand, "Its powers are too strong for me to handle. If it was used in the wrong hands - MY hands - well, I don't know WHAT would happen..."
Bee Zee frowns. "O-key," he sighs, folding his arms over his chest as he hops after you.
Just a reminder, if you've forgotten - and I'm sure you have, with all the random blog posts I wrote and whatnot - your fabulous ninja friend (a ninja friend who, I may add, I intended to make as a unicorn before you so kindly threatened me with your chair) spoke a weirdo language that you couldn't understand.
Fortunately, despite his apparent lack of common sense, Bee Zee WAS a fast learner and learned new words as quick as he could hop. (And he hopped pretty darn fast.)
The sun was setting, coloring the sky with bursts of red and orange and pink. Kind of like the color you got when you messed up your sister's stinky sticks of lip gloss.
Bee Zee taps you on the shoulder. "Mustache...Mustache...!" (Because of your sick twisted desire to be a tyrant, you tried to tell him to call you "Master", but the ninja unfortunately mistook it as "Mustache" and ended up liking your new facial-hairy nickname.)
"What?"
"Mook...da!"
He's pointing at a big boulder with two handprints carved in.
"What is that?" you ask, peering closer for a good look. Bee Zee hops just behind you, leaning over your shoulder.
Curiously, you look down at your own hand, then back at the handprints, then back at the hand, then the handprints-
It wasn't exactly instinct, not exactly curiosity, and not exactly a hunch that made you press both your hands into the handprint-holes. Perfect fit! Hooray! Bee Zee did a one-legged happy dance.
A happy dance that was unfortunately ruined when the ground below you rumbled and crashed down.
***
Having the ground beneath your feet just break away is not as painless as most books make them sound, you think, grumbling, as you rub your back and make that hissing noise people often make when they get boo-boos. (Such a manly word, boo-boos is.) It's just your first day, and already your behind is starting to bruise and you have a stinging scratch on your arm.
Unfortunately for you - and fortunately for your companion - Bee Zee was a ninja. Ninjas, no matter how dumb, were quick and nimble like a panther. With only one wobbly leg, he is standing atop a pile of rubble, babbling something excitedly that is, you guess, the Bee Zee version of "OH WHAT THE HECK JUST HAPPENED?!"
Luckily your fat backpack cushioned most of your back from major pain, so aside from a slowly purple-ing butt and a red stripe on your arm, you could walk around almost painlessly.
"This was a trap," you declare, facepalming, "Ugh! But who would trap us? Somebody who want the Leg? Somebody who wants to use its power...?"
Suddenly you hear screeching. SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! Or whatever a screech is supposed to sound. (Personally all I hear is a loud ring and then I get a major headache.)
You face your opponent: a giant bat! A bat almost as big as you from your head to your hip! EW! EW! EWEEWEWEWEWEWEW!!!
You scream a very manly scream and run to the corner of the damp, dripping cave you fell into. "Stay back!" you scream, your voice becoming squeaky and oh-so-manlier, "I...I got a weapon-!"
The bat apparently didn't care that you had a "weapon" and lunges forward, wings flapping, drool flying, ugly bat-fur-mustachioed face getting all the more uglier and mustachioed-er.
WAPAK!
KABOOM!
KABLAG!
LIPAD!
>:O!
Bee Zee ninja-kicks the bat. "Mustache!" he cries angrily, "Om agga boo Mustache!"
You hoped it was something like "Nobody hurts Mustache!". (Although in my opinion I think he was saying "You have a big mustache!" Which was true.)
The bat screeches indignantly, flapping its leathery, crusty bat wings. It glares at your ninja savior; your ninja savior flops on his butt, removes his sock, and waves his now-exposed stinky foot at his enemy like a sword.
The bat charges, thrashing and clawing at Bee Zee with its weirdo bat feet thingies. Bee Zee blocks every blow, although since he couldn't move, could only defend himself from the attacks. You know he can't keep up with this forever...even if he WAS a ninja, and a ninja after all was the definition of awesomeness. Next to unicorns. (I WILL NEVER STOP RUBBING THAT IN.)
You know you have to do something. You can't just be a damsel in distress-
Wait. Wait. Waitwaitwaitwait. I hope I haven't offended my guy readers with that last part. Did I? I apologize for my rudeness. But then again, I can't really write a good story in second-person POV without just once mentioning your gender, can I?
Considering most of my readers are female, I think it would only be fair to refer to you as feminine-
HEY. HEY. OKAY I'M SORRY. SHEESH. WHAT IS IT WITH YOU AND THREATENING ME WITH CHAIRS?! D:<
Fine. I'm going to cut that part out then, just like I cut out the part of the lame, and the severing, AND MOST ESPECIALLY THE UNICORN. >:I
You know you have to do something. You can't just be helpless like Batman, a superhero with no superpowers. (Mountains of money is not a superpower, Bruce Wayne. ACCEPT IT AND IT WILL HURT LESS.)
You glance at your obese backpack. When you fell, it unzipped itself a little, and now the Leg of Bee Zee was sticking out of your bag. Maybe...just maybe...
It's to save my "friend"'s life (quotations on friend because you're not so sure Bee Zee would be such a cool friend), you think, slowly pulling the slithery, slippery, and slimy appendage out of your bag. Just because you're using it NOW doesn't mean you're the right wielder. Right? It belongs to someone else; someone who'd look good in a fabulous designer ninja leg scarf.
You take the leg and, attempting to make a battle cry like they do in movies - it unfortunately sounded like a yodeler who just got a wedgie - charge at the bat, who is now nearly winning his battle against the tired and wounded ninja.
SHLAP! SHLAP! SHWIP!
Basically that was the sound of a smelly foot slapping a giant mustache bat in the face, again and again and again.
It turns to you now, trying to knock you out with a blow from one of its icky wings. "SCREEEEE!!"
You whip out the leg~having no joints, it wraps around the bat's neck like a thick fleshy rope. You pull.
"SCREEEEEE!!!" it shrieks louder, thrashing and squirming and making a bigger ruccus than before.
"Yikes," you mutter, squeezing the leg lowly as you back away. The leg lengthens and stretches, kind of like when you knead a piece of Clay Doh and it becomes a long doughy rope-thing, until you were about five feet away from the hyper beast.
Now...what to use to knock it unconscious...
Oh! There it is! The old-fashioned method!
You take a particularly large rock at your feet and throw it at the beast, conking it perfectly on the head. With one last deafening "SCREEEeeee...!!" it falls onto the floor, limp.
"Ew." You pull the Leg of Bee Zee toward you, squishing it back to its normal leg length and stuffing it back into your backpack.
"Oooga..." Bee Zee groans. Oh. You totally forgot your partner was wounded. Hehe. Sorry.
You rush awkwardly to his side. "Bee Zee, how are you?"
He opens his mouth to speak - you guess he does, but you don't really know as most of his hair and face is covered with those ninja mask things - but you hush him and order, "In English, please?"
He looks at you, confused.
"Oh, uh..." Great. You have to play charades again. "Um, are you HURT?" You ball up your fist, hit yourself on the head, and yell OW. "Hurt? HUUUURT?"
Bee Zee doesn't look like he understands, but he nods slowly. "Bee Zee nooga. Hurt. Bad dog."
He does look pretty hurt, you think worriedly. Taking a beating from a bat doesn't sound painful, buuuut it is.
You reach into your obese backpack and pull out a glass bottle filled with icy blue cordial. It didn't glow like most fabulous magical liquids did, but you could tell it was magical just because...well, you just could. The cave instantly became brighter when you took it out.
"Cantooka?" the ninja asks, pointing at the beautiful bottle with a wide-eyed expression.
"This is Water," you say smugly, "That's with a capital W because I got it fresh from the source - my dad jumped out of an airplane and just happened to bring this bottle with him...here, it says it can heal any injury."
You shove the bottle down his mouth.
"GRGGGGGHHH-" Bee Zee sounds like he's trying to protest as your cure floods down his throat, but the water follows gravity, not ninjas. (It may have followed UNICORNS though >:I.)
"SOOORRYYY-YYY-Y, CAN'T HEAR YOOO-OOOU," you giggle in a sing-song voice. Payback, you think, This be payback for barging in on me while I was reading an awesome blog post.
He finally yanks the glass bottle out of his face. He's coughing and spitting and yelling out words you believe to be curses, but you see his wounds and bruises melt into skin.
You shake your head. If only the Water worked on YOUR wounds, you think sadly, rubbing your purple-ing butt and your red-striped arm.
As Bee Zee continues his angry, unintelligible speech - little bugger didn't even notice his wounds were healed and ignored that rare thing you do called "kindness" - you remember exactly why the Water couldn't heal you.
A tear trickles down your cheek.
AWWW. Y U SO SAD. DD:
This lovely story, I'm afraid, would have to wait until next time, as I am now incredibly sleepy and want to sleep. Now. :I So, uh, peace out. Here's a picture of a guy with a Batman moustache.
credit to ufunk.net
someday i'll grow a manly moustache like that :I
