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Pet Name: Keunero
I really hate having that trophy cabinet in the corner of the living room. It’s right next to the kitchen door. I go on an uncontrollable rampage when I’m hungry. Well, today I had this irrepressible craving for cheese--don’t ask me why. I suddenly remembered that there was only one piece of cheese left in the inventory. Of course, I ran there and that stupid trophy cabinet just had to be propped up on my path. I stubbed my foot.
What agony! Oh, the pain! I cringed and held my foot for seven minutes. Seven, long minutes that dragged on for… ever! The pain continued to pull me back into a helpless crouching position, and in that stance, the only thing I could do was gaze upon the evil that gave me such throbbing—darn you, trophy cabinet!
But, y’know, the third shelf down was empty. I never really realized that before. My owner Michelle’s trophies were at the top, Calesile’s beauty contest trophies occupied the second row, but the third row was empty. Why have I never thought about this before? I soon realized that the desolate third shelf is mine.
The pain in my foot vanished, but now a new pain came. Instinct suggested that I eat cheese to treat this mental ache.
GAH! You wouldn’t believe this. Calesile was there… EATING my cheese! Nooo! Who knew what my expression looked like, but Calesile seemed amused.
She chuckled and asked, “Keunero, what’s wrong?”
Calesile turned her head, baffled.
“W… wh… why am I such a…a LOSER!?”
There was this awkward pause. Suddenly my sister laughed hysterically. She rolled on the ground with her tongue sticking out and ears flapping wildly. Some odd sensation came over me and I started to laugh too, not with her, but at her! “This was the Gelert who won first place in the Beauty Contest?” I thought.
“Heh, Keunero,” she said after her long giggling streak, “you’re so weird. You asked the question and emphasized ‘loser’ with such force. And your face was all like…”
She laughed more. This didn’t really help my self-esteem. When she finished her spasm of hilarity, she smiled and said, “Let’s go to Meridell and visit a little friend.”
Little friend my foot (which swelled a bit, by the way). She dragged me into the lair of Grumpy Skeith no. 1, King Skarl.
Calesile encouraged, “Go on tell a joke.”
She stepped back and grinned. I wearily stood in the middle of the room and faced the king directly. But suddenly, I froze. What should I say to the ruler of Meridell? Nothing came to mind. “I’m making a fool of myself.” I thought.
King Skarl apathetically stood up. Muttering it was his lunch break, he walked towards the door. It’s like I wasn’t even there. How rude can you get? I didn’t know what came over me, but I suddenly rushed to block his way.
“Hey, what’s the big idea?” King Skarl grumbled.
“Hey, what’s the big idea?” I echoed back with a similar tone.
“You insolent little brat!” Skarl’s face was turning red now.
“You insolent little brat!” I even copied his facial features—which showed signs of exploding.
And I knew that was my cue to run. Calesile, suppressing laughter, was holding the door open and motioning me to come. And so, we escaped. We fled as fast as our abilities would let us. I had wings, and Calesile was an agile and quick Gelert. King Skarl’s guards were behind, rushing to catch up. Of course, they never will.
“Hey,” Calesile grinned, “let’s try again tomorrow. We might get a chuckle out of him.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
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