Yawning, the meepit squinted through the bright morning sunshine that had filtered through the leaves and onto his face. He blinked a few times and slowly began to unwind himself from the tight ball he had curled up in to sleep, stretching himself to his full length (which wasn't very long, as his appendages were rather short and chubby). After somewhat tidying up the bits and bobs in the little clearing in a large bush he called home, he dived through the leaves into the meadow outside. He washed his face with the dew that had collected in a leaf then shook the sleep out of his fur.
It was a wonderful day. The sun was shining, the Beekadoodles were chirping merrily away and the flowers were blooming as cheerily as only flowers could bloom. But to all of this the meepit paid no attention.
That was because it was time for Breakfast.
All the meepits around Neopian Central area made the Juice Break station their first stop for Breakfast. It wasn't that it served particularly good food or a wide variety of cuisine (just standard Juppie juice) or that the décor was particularly fancy (it was situated in a tree and one had to stand on a branch to wait, and the background music got quite annoying after a while) or that the service was particularly outstanding (the pipes serving the juice were always broken and the repair Neopets took forever to fix them, so long that it was not unheard of for meepits to simply tumble off the branches from hunger). Actually, no one really knows why so many meepits go there. It's almost as if they are programmed to frequent the Juice Break station so that the repair Neopets don't run out of jobs. Curious, that.
Well, this particular meepit was no different. But after falling off a branch for the fifth time in a row, he decided enough was enough. He massaged his head rather crossly and set off decidedly towards the Catacombs. He wanted his Breakfast.
As he entered the Catacombs, a wild looking Uni with heavy make-up and a rather gaudy pink tiara planted himself squarely in front of him.
“WHO LET THE MEEPITS OUT?” the Uni trilled in an off-tune falsetto, then stared at the meepit.
After a few awkward seconds, the meepit politely meep-ed a few times in reply. It seemed to be what was expected of him.
“PERFECT! PERFECT! But a Kauboy suit would have been the perfect finishing touch! Oh, my kingdom for a Kauboy suit!” The Uni skipped off to terrorise some other unsuspecting being.
If meepits had eyebrows, this particular meepit would have raised his, but since meepits do not have them (and really, they would look rather queer if they did), he just blinked a couple of times and continued walking. He wanted his Breakfast and a herd of Unis wouldn't have stopped him.
He walked past the Art Gallery, where a crowd was admiring the day's latest works.
He walked past the Storytelling area, where the campfire continued to burn all throughout the day, with no regard to the sunlight as it was always rather dim in the Catacombs.
He walked past the Neopian Times stand, where he batted away the newspaper that the saleschia jovially and obnoxiously shoved into his face.
He picked up the pace; he was so close...
Suddenly, he was lifted off the ground. The blue Blumaroo who was teaching the “How to Draw” class in a corner of the Catacombs hefted him onto a chair with seatbelts, ignoring his flailing and wriggling and meeps of indignation as she strapped him in and addressed her class.
“Today, we're going to be drawing some still life. We usually have fruit for this – Grenanas and Floranges and the sort – but then I thought, let's do something interesting! Why not a Meepit? So, what are you all waiting for? Let's get started!”
The meepit, having found that he could do nothing to escape, slouched back resignedly, folded his ears back and glared at the class.
After about an hour, the Blumaroo teacher finally released him from the chair.
“Thanks for participating in our art class! Here's a little token of appreciation!” She strapped a little package onto his back. The meepit meep-ed angrily in reply and stomped off. He wanted his Breakfast and he wanted it now!
He stomped by the Poetry Contest, ignoring the Hissi who yelled out:
A small pink meepit walks past;
a haiku is formed.”
As he passed the Coin Shop, a sparkle of gold caught his eye and he turned to look inside the shop window. Shiny...
His grumbling stomach shook him out of his reverie and he turned away resolutely from the beckoning shininess. That could wait. Breakfast could not.
He marched on determinedly. Four more steps, three more steps, two more steps, one more step... he was in! He raised his nose and breathed in appreciatively the cosy aroma of Ye Olde Coffee Shoppe. He had reached his destination.
He placed his order at the counter and was directed to a table to wait.
Tum de tum de toodle-dy doo...
It was then that he remembered the package on his back that the eccentric art teacher had thrust on him before he left. Curious, he shrugged the little paper bag off his shoulders and peered inside. A book? He took it out and considered it, head tilted. The cover was a kaleidoscope of colour and neatly inscribed in a corner was CORN ART. The meepit looked at it for a few moments longer, then took a nibble.
Bleh. Not good to eat. He put it back in the bag – he'd take it home to use as bedding.
Bored again, he cast his eyes for something else to do. Aha! On the table right in front of him was a travel brochure. Having nothing better to do, the meepit picked it up and looked at it. Terror Mountain? He snorted. Like any sane meepit would go there. He knew what would happen if he did. Everyone knew. The locals were always on the lookout for meepits to “snackrifice” to the Snowager. He tossed the brochure aside in disdain.
Just then, he spotted a waiter heading in his direction. His Breakfast! He sat up straighter in anticipation, only to slump in his seat as the waiter passed him, presumably to serve food to another table. Why were they taking so long with his Breakfast?
Lost in his gloom, it was a while before he processed that he was being repeatedly tapped on the shoulder.
“Sir? Excuse me, Sir?”
He looked up irritatedly but immediately perked up when he saw that the arm tapping him was connected to a shoulder which was connected to another shoulder which was connected to another arm holding... his Breakfast.
The waiter who had been tapping him seemed relieved that he had finally got the customer's attention. “One cocoa juppie mocha with ten sugar cubes and one juppie cheese toastie without the cheese?”
Seeing the meepit's enthusiastic nod, the waiter set the food down on the table, bowed and hurried off in that manner only waiters can hurry off with.
The meepit surveyed his food with delight. His Breakfast was finally here.