The League of the Chocolate Ghostkersword Devoted by negrek |  |
The Neopian sun was just beginning to rise, casting
tendrils of radiance throughout Neopia Central. One pure sunbeam illuminated
the mighty throng of the League of the Chocolate Ghostkersword Devoted. Well,
perhaps they didn't quite create a mighty throng. A sizeable company might be
better. Okay, okay, so there were only four of them. But they were Devoted.
And that's what really counts.
Anyway, the League of the Chocolate Ghostkersword
Devoted was setting up a demonstration in Neopia Central. Their mission: harangue
the masses and scare up some new members. The League president, Wattoo, a green
Buzz, had brought along a new soapbox especially for the occasion. Wattoo was
in charge of all the supplies, actually. The rising sun found her unpacking
them and dividing them up industriously. "All right Rocky, Spawn," she announced,
"you'll be carrying the signs. Two Warfs eagerly stepped up to accept the task.
They were identical, save for the fact that Rocky was wearing a Viking helmet
fashioned from a strainer with plastic horns glued to the sides. Wattoo handed
each Warf a sign that read "Support the Chocolate Ghostkersword!" in bold, black
letters. "Once we get started," Wattoo informed her two eager sign bearers,
"I want you two to walk all around Neopia Central holding these signs up high
and waving them around to attract attention. Meet back here at noon for the
presentation of the Ghostkersword. Got that?" The Warfs nodded emphatically.
"Good. I'll tell you when to start."
The green Buzz turned to the fourth and final
member of the team, the member who had actually carried most of Wattoo's supplies
to the demonstration site. A fairly nondescript blue Grundo, he was quietly
awaiting Wattoo's directions. "Ion, you'll be in charge of the free T-shirts,"
Wattoo informed him. She removed a stack of "I Love Mince Pies!" T-shirts from
the supply pile and handed them to him. "Turn these inside out and write "The
League of the Chocolate Ghostkersword Devoted" on them. Now, the only color
we have is yellow, so that'll have to do." She handed him a paintbrush (non-magical,
of course) and a can of brilliant yellow paint.
"Okay!" the blue Grundo, Ion, replied, plopping
down on the ground and turning the first T-shirt inside out. He pried the can
open, dipped the brush into it, and began to paint letters onto the fabric.
With Ion happily occupied, Wattoo set about preparing for her own role. She
set a stack of free pamphlets detailing the League and its most noble cause
next to her soapbox. She also produced a lined sheet of paper and a fancy pen,
which she laid next to the pamphlets. Finally, she propped up a large sign next
to her soapbox. It proclaimed "Support the League of the Chocolate Ghostkersword
Devoted! Striving to give the Chocolate Ghostkersword the power that it deserves!"
in tall, bold letters. She then picked up her very official clipboard and called
the other members to attention.
"Alright, team, here's today's agenda! 5:00-5:15
AM: Set up supplies and assign jobs. We've done that. 5:15-12:00: Gather support
and members for the League of the Chocolate Ghostkersword Devoted. High Noon:
Presentation of the Ghostkersword and the one-blaster salute." Wattoo tapped
the holster at her side, which held her Buzz Blaster. "12:00-3:00 PM: More gathering
of support and members. 3:00-3:15: Pack up and move out. 3:15-4:00: Assessment
of success and plans for next demonstration." Wattoo looked up from the clipboard.
"Any questions?" she asked. The other members all shook their heads. "Ion, are
you done with any of those T-shirts?"
The Grundo nodded and held out a pair of the
shirts. "Yes, I've got the first two right here." Wattoo took one of the shirts
and pulled it over her head without reading what was written on the front of
it.
"Put the other one on so that people know that
you're a member," she instructed Ion, who complied. Wattoo produced two small
pins in the shape of Chocolate Ghostkerswords. She pinned one of them to her
shirt and handed the other to Ion, who did likewise. "Only official members
get to wear these," she explained.
Meanwhile, Neopia Central was slowly beginning
to awaken. A couple of shops had lit up and pets could be seen moving about
within them, preparing for the day to come. The occasional Neopet wandered through
the area, out for an early-morning stroll. "Okay, you two head out there and
get started," Wattoo instructed Rocky and Spawn. The two dashed off excitedly.
"And don't forget to get back here at twelve!" Wattoo called after them. "Let's
get ready," Wattoo said, turning to Ion, "I think I see our first customer headed
this way." Indeed, a green Scorchio lugging an enormous book was hurrying over
to their display. Wait… a green Scorchio? With a big book? "Oh, bzzzrk," Wattoo
hissed, "I thought she wouldn't notice we were gone for hours!" The Scorchio
skidded to a halt in front of Wattoo. She was panting from the exertion of running
with her heavy volume, but she had plenty of energy to spare for an angry glare
at Wattoo. The Mallard upon the Scorchio's head also gave the Buzz a disapproving
stare. "Hiya, sis," Wattoo addressed the Scorchio, giving her a winning smile.
"Wattoo!" the green Scorchio shrieked as soon
as she had her breath back. "What are you doing?"
Wattoo drew herself up proudly. "I am representing
the noble League of the Chocolate Ghostkersword Devoted!" she proclaimed. "Would
you like a free pamphlet?" she asked as an afterthought, proffering one.
Her sister wasn't paying much attention. Rather,
she was squinting at Wattoo's official League shirt. The bright yellow paint
on white fabric made it very difficult to read. "Are you sure you aren't representing
"The Leeg of the Chocklit Gostkersword Divoted?" she inquired dryly.
Wattoo's eyes widened in horror. "Is that what
it says?" she gasped, staring down at her shirt and trying to read upside down.
Once she had determined that her sister was probably telling the truth, she
rounded on Ion. "Ion, can't you spell? You're ruining the shirts!"
Ion, who was still contentedly painting shirts,
froze mid-letter, staring at surprise at Wattoo. A glob of paint fell from his
brush to land in an errant splatter upon the fabric. "I did?" he asked quizzically.
His brow furrowed, as though he was engaged in deep thought. Suddenly he brightened.
"I know! It's "Thuh Leeg uv thuh Choclit Gostcrsord Divotid"!"
"Argh!" Wattoo moaned, clutching her head. "No!
No, that's not how to spell it! Spell it like it is on the sign!"
Ion stared up at the large billboard that Wattoo
had erected, seemingly noticing it for the first time. "I hadn't thought of
that," he admitted sheepishly.
"Well, spell them like that from now on, okay?"
Wattoo requested exasperatedly. Sighing, she gazed down at her own misspelled
shirt. "Oh, well, I bet nobody will notice, anyway."
The Scorchio rolled her eyes. "Wattoo, what
is it with you and these weird obsessions? I mean, what's so great about Chocolate
Ghostkerswords all of a sudden?"
"Would you like a pamphlet?" Wattoo asked a
Lupe who had strayed a little bit too close to the display. The Lupe shied away,
shaking his head "no" vigorously. Wattoo scanned the slowly growing crowd for
other possibly interested parties, but there seemed to be no pets within range.
She turned back to her sister to answer the question. "Look, Dnargs, it's really
quite simple," Wattoo began with a condescending air.
"My name is Dnargo," her sister interjected
angrily.
"Right, whatever," Wattoo agreed absently, trying
to recall what she had been saying before. "Well, the Chocolate Ghostkersword
is a very unique item, you see. It's a weapon made out of chocolate, to be exact.
And yet, you can neither fight with it nor eat it." Wattoo was beginning to
build momentum. "The League of the Chocolate Ghostkersword Devoted is working
to change that and bring the Chocolate Ghostkersword the power and respect that
it so richly deserves."
Dnargo wore a long-suffering expression as she
surveyed the League's display. Her gaze traveled over the large billboard, the
somewhat squashed soapbox, and the blue Grundo diligently turning out shirts
in the background. "Dare I ask how you plan to accomplish that?" Dnargo asked
skeptically.
"Take a free T-shirt," Wattoo told a miniscule
Snowbunny that had hopped up to here soapbox. She dropped one of the shirts
over the creature's head. The shirt almost completely engulfed the petpet, only
its head protruding from the folds of fabric. As it turned and hopped off, presumably
back to its owner, it gave the impression of a small ghost with a rabbit head.
Wattoo decided to resume the conversation with her sister. "We'll start nice,"
she explained, "with a petition to the Staff. We'll ask them to make the Chocolate
Ghostkersword a useable weapon or at least an edible item. If that doesn't work…"
Wattoo trailed off, her enormous compound eyes glittering unsettlingly. Seeing
her expression, Dnargo shivered involuntarily.
The last time that look had crossed Wattoo's
face was the time when Wattoo was anticipating her "excavation" of Dune Street
in search of buried treasure. Actually, most of the neighborhood didn't mind
having to skirt the enormous hole in the middle of the road on their way to
or from the house, probably reasoning that it was better than Wattoo's other
tendencies. These included "accidentally" leaving the house's front gate open
and allowing her evil garden gnomes to escape and terrorize the neighborhood.
Yes, as long as it was keeping Wattoo's mind off the many uses for her catapult,
the neighbors were willing to let it slide. Well, they were, anyway, until Wattoo
had hit the water main. What a mess that had been!
"What is it this time?" Dnargo asked her sister
sternly.
"Well, remember all those Bubble Blowers that
I was buying? I was thinking the League could…"
"Never mind," Dnargo cut Wattoo off, "I get
the picture. I didn't really want to know, anyway. This sounds like just another
one of your crazy plots. Are you trying to get Mom frozen?"
Wattoo stared at her blankly. "Frozen? You mean,
like, really cold?" Wattoo then noticed a minute baby Gelert. The curious young
pet had crawled right up to Wattoo's soapbox. "Here, have a pamphlet," Wattoo
told the Gelert kindly, handing him one. The Gelert didn't appear to know whether
to eat the pamphlet or read it, but he wandered off happily enough. When Wattoo
turned back to her sister, she found Dnargo glaring daggers at her.
"You know perfectly well what it means to be
frozen. Oh, enough of this nonsense. Mom isn't going to like this one bit."
Turning back the way she had come, Dnargo marched off determinedly.
Wattoo hissed angrily. "The little fink's going
to get Mom on my case," she growled. Turning to Ion, she began issuing orders.
"Change of schedule, Ion. Get those to sign bearers back over here for the presentation
of the Ghostkersword." Ion set down his latest shirt and dashed off into the
now considerable Neopia Central crowd to find the two Warfs.
The two sign bearers in question were certainly
enjoying their position. They dashed about exuberantly, waving their signs wildly.
Ion took a considerable amount of time to retrieve the petpets; they maneuvered
easily through the crowd, while the bigger and somewhat clumsier Ion blundered
into the occasional pet. In time, however, he successfully captured the pair
and escorted them back to base.
Wattoo was ready for them; she had already packed
up most of the supplies so that they could leave quickly. In her hands she held
a long, ornately carved box. As Ion came to a halt, panting, before her, she
passed him the box. "Just like we practiced, now," she instructed the other
members in a low voice, "and remember to bow with reverence." Ion nodded, and
they took their places. Ion carefully undid the box's latch and lifted the lid.
Inside there lay a sword, perfectly rendered in chocolate. Barely perceptible
teeth marks marred the blade in some areas; certain petpets had taken a great
deal of convincing that the sword wasn't edible. Wattoo gently removed the sword,
grasping the hilt with her right hand. She swung the sword so that the tip pointed
to the sky and lifted it majestically over her head. The Warfs and Ion, who
had set the box on the ground, all bowed (with reverence, of course). It was
certainly an inspiring scene; one could almost imagine the morning sunlight
glinting off of the fine blade in the buzz's hand. Of course, being made of
chocolate, the sword hadn't done all that much glinting in its lifetime. Still,
it was quite a sight.
With her left hand, Wattoo drew her Buzz Blaster
from its holster and proceeded to give the one-blaster salute. The blaster sent
a bolt of prismatic light into the sky, followed by a small shower of glittering
sparks. Unfortunately, Wattoo hadn't thought to look up before discharging her
weapon. The blast narrowly missed a low-flying Shoyru, barely singing his right
wing. He fluttered down to land in front of Wattoo, scowling angrily at her.
"What are you, crazy?" the Shoyru shrieked,
"Do you think you can just walk into Neopia Central and start firing at things?"
"Err…" Wattoo replied nervously, eyeing the
T-shirts which she had neatly stacked.
The Shoyru inflated with rage, obviously unsatisfied
with Wattoo's answer. "Why do I even bother?" he yelled to no one in particular.
"I should just report you wackos the first chance I get." He turned away, prepared
to stalk off.
"Wait!" Wattoo cried, grabbing a T-shirt off
of the stack, "You forgot your free shirt!" Dashing up to the Shoyru, Wattoo
pulled it over his head. The shirt turned out to be very small. It pinioned
the Shoyru's arms and wings firmly to his sides in a steely cotton grip.
The constrained Shoyru struggled wildly, hopping
about. "Get this thing off of me!" he roared. At this point, he tripped on a
protruding rock and fell squarely upon his face. After that, he chose to expend
his energy simply trying to regain his feet.
"Wattoo!" Ion cried suddenly. "She's coming!"
Indeed, a familiar green Scorchio was bearing down on them, followed by an irate
owner.
The four League members scrambled to collect
all of their supplies, then scattered, ignoring their owner's irate orders that
they "Stay right where you are!" Dnargo and her owner paused briefly to help
the Shoyru to his feet and remove the offending shirt, then dashed after the
retreating League at a frightening speed.
"The League of the Chocolate Ghostkersword Devoted
will never surrender!" Wattoo yelled defiantly as her owner seized her firmly
by the tail.
"Oh, you won't, won't you?" her owner growled
angrily. "We'll see about that." In the end, the League was captured after a
brief but valiant struggle, and led back meekly toward their Neohome.
As Ion moved up level with the darkly scowling
Wattoo, she whispered into his ear, "It's really not over yet, you know. If
she were smart, Dnargo would have listened to my plan for all of those Bubble
Blowers…"
The End
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