TUSKANINNY DAY SPECIAL

Guide To Tuskaninny Plushies
by Jo_eccentric

You're an avid collector
Of plushies, you say.
All the colours in your gallery
From rainbow to grey.

There's birthday Chias
And blue Lupes as well,
They're awfully cute,
On your shelf they do dwell.

But one thing is missing,
I do seem to find.
There's no Tuskaninnies, 
Not one single kind!

Oh dear... oh dear!
This cannot be so.
A collection's unfinished
Without Tuskaninnies you know!

From basic to island,
There's heaps to collect.
There's even strawberry,
Which you can't forget!

Eureka! I've got it...
I know what you need --
A book on these plushies
That you'll need to read.

Guide to Tuskaninny Plushies
Is what this book's named.
It'll help your collection,
So don't be ashamed!

Read up all about
The Tuskaninny plushies.
Complete your gallery,
It is but a breeze!

The Sunny Tuskaninny's Sundress
by Sugarypixiestix2

If the weather outside is warm
she'll be in her cheeriest form,
Because she can put on a dress
that has exuberance and finesse.

It's the only sundress she owns,
but it has her favourite tones.
So, she doesn't need another one
when this garb can't be outdone.

The flashy yellow colour glows
as this Tuskaninny gives a pose.
With a smile so big and beaming,
she looks as if she is dreaming.

Her jubilance can be contagious,
which is certainly advantageous.
Sprinkling a dynamic lightness
to show off her forthrightness.

The Tuskaninny's sanguine aura
bursts out in a golden plethora.
Only this one gown can project
all of her self that is correct.

Starry Tuskaninny
by Fairyxhearts

Among the ocean currents' pull and sway
Frolics a young Tuskaninny at nighttime play,
A starry 'pet is in awe with the water's spray
As he is reverent of that which lights his way.

He shifts his wistful glance to the moon
Above and opens his mouth to croon
His yearning to the orb in a heartfelt tune
That conveys his sore desire for a boon.

Other dots of light pin the sky and each star
Twinkles at him like a diamond from afar
Before one such cosmic gem starts to scar
With its glitter the skies the colour of tar.

All becomes quiet, save for the flap of fish
Nearby and the Tuskaninny's slow swish
Of his tail while his lips close and squish
Together before they open to utter his wish.

What the Neopet desires is courage to go
To wherever the sea winds might blow,
Even if he cannot easily follow on the flow
Or ebb of the waves as they rock to and fro.

It's not just the sea itself but the universe
That this small 'pet hopes to traverse
As he dreams of places quite diverse
And land-dwellers with whom to converse.

The shooting star winks as if to say "Aye"
In serving as a bright signal in the sky
To tell him that adventure should be nigh
And through the water he too begins to fly.

Ode To The Robot Tuskaninny... That's On Fire.
by Dr_tomoe

A walk around Neopia,
a calm and peaceful day,
unbeknownst to you
something random is headed your way.

It's not Jacko or Boochi
or a Xandra-following Xweetok.
Captain Limebeard is sailing the seas
and it's not a size increase to your shop.

It's the sound of rolling wheels
and the crackle of burning flames,
a smell of smoke and oil
and robotic-sounding clangs.

There is a robot Tuskaninny
and it flies past you in a craze,
and the fact that it's on fire
puts you in a daze.

He's fleeing from Dr. Sloth,
who apparently made him this way
before rolling away and 
making this a random day.

Try as you might, it
is impossible to answer your plea,
for Dr. Sloth is in space,
he can't be stopped by me.

But, at least I can get
some sand and some foam,
for rolling around on fire
is no way to roam.

I'll put you out and
save you from the flames,
just try to avoid Dr. Sloth,
or the result might be the same.

Preliminary
by Inland

Sweet sketch Tuskaninny, please!
Do not cower.
Hold your head high, your tail up.
You have power.

Light line here, and there --
the others tell you that you're just
an idea, an unfinished project.
Do not give them ear.

They call you nothing.
They say you are just...
A sketch.
A scribble on a notepad.

Forgotten, abandoned, incomplete.
They say these things looking at you
downward, noses wrinkled on their pedestals.
Never fail to meet their eyes.

Sweet sketch Tuskaninny, it's true.
You are a doodle of a completed design.
This is how it is. This is the world.
Be not insulted.

You are the base of all the others.
You are their origin. Without you,
they would cease to exist.
Never forget: you are important.

So, sweet sketch Tuskaninny,
wear your paper lines with pride, 
and when staring into a looking glass,
be at rest. Take your lead lines
and smile wide.

A simple sketch has beauty, too.

Our Waitress Deserves A Break
by Blessed_faerie

I love to drink slushies,
So nice and cool on a hot day.
They’re best at the Altador Cup
While watching your team play.

The slushie stand is so busy;
There’s only one waitress there.
She’s a large red Tuskaninny
With big, fluffy orange hair.

We don’t know her name,
We just bark our orders at her.
“Give me a Zeenana and a Chokato!”
It must be annoying, I’m sure.

I don’t know how it’s possible,
That she’s able to work so fast.
In all my years attending the AC,
She’s never given me the wrong glass.

I bet she’s glad last month is over;
All she did was work a lot.
For some, it may have been Relaxing,
But for her, it was certainly not.

Now, in the month of Swimming,
I hope she’s finally getting a rest.
On this year’s Tuskaninny Day,
I want her to know that she’s the best!

Rial The Red
by Flufflepuff

A day and night would scarcely pass
Without a fit of rage
Spewing forth and scalding hearts
Of every kind and age.

It mattered not that the offense
Was normal, great or small.
When Rial felt his temper rise,
He unleashed it on all.

Take note: the glint within his eyes
Is oft the only sign
He gives prior to his anger --
That small yet lethal shine.

So instinctive was his rage,
The name "Rial the Red"
Was given him, right to his face.
From then on, all had fled.

The name alone was just enough
To warn those who'd be burned
By hurtful words and ruthless wrath,
Friends who'd be scorned or spurned.

A starving fire cannot live,
And so, the flame released
On targets none did dwindle, die,
Until it slowly ceased.

Despite his natural shade of red,
He turned an ashen grey
With hints of red. He realized
His friends had gone away.

Quietly, he stood alone
In solitary gloom.
A minute flower in the ash
Promptly began to bloom.

Now reddened and renewed once more,
Rial did realize
His name, "the Red," was not a stain,
Nor did it tell lies.

With that, the Tuskaninny vowed
To be a mite more calm.
Although he slipped and often screamed,
He'd be caught when he'd fall.

A Robot Tuskaninny's Guarantee
by Chavo_guerrero

Thank you for your purchase,
And we're sure you will agree
You've made the perfect choice,
And it comes with a guarantee!

Much overlooked, this lovely 'pet,
And faithful to a fault,
Programmed just to love you
And caring is default.

The robot Tuskaninny
Is built specifically for you,
There is nothing you can dream of
That your new friend cannot do.

The ariel atop their head
Can pick up every sound,
You'll always have someone to listen
Whenever they're around.

So many games are coded
Into their playful robot brain,
That if you played all day and night
You never would complain.

The power lasts forever,
Or maybe a day or two more,
They do not burp or fidget,
And definitely don't snore.

In fact, this is the perfect 'pet
And that's our guarantee,
If there seems to be a problem,
We'll fix your friend for free!

Lair Of The Tuskaninny
by Rielcz

It's a tale so dark and chilling,
It'll have you at the edge of your chair,
Maybe even gagging slightly;
Well, if you can't handle the cute.

You must be perfectly willing
To enter the Tuskaninny's Lair.
It's icy, so bundle yourself tightly
And enjoy the through-cave commute. 

What lurks in this frozen lair, you wonder?
Nothing dangerous or mean at all.
Surprisingly friendly Tuskaninnies
Are what you'll find inside. 

As the pages turn the ice you go under...
But what's that by the cave wall?
A red one, a snow one, white, baby,
So playful and curious and wide-eyed.

And as you head further in,
More of the lair is revealed.
The Tuskaninnies start crowding you
And welcoming you to their place. 

Of course, at this you have to grin;
But you glance back -- the cave's been sealed?
You bid the dwellers a brief adieu
And, to the cave mouth, race. 

Indeed, the entrance is no more
As the creatures encroach yet again.
They stare at you, childlike; in place they stay.
Just fascinated -- they think you're so neat.

You start pounding violently on the door
Whilst they say, in unison,
"No, stay, come here and play!
Your presence would make an excellent treat!"

Their adorableness is overpowering.
You gingerly accept their call to game.
They're friendly, 
They wouldn't hurt you... right?
Save keeping you here forever despaired.

Some tag, some Hide and Seek, 
Some everything...
Until it's just a blur of same.
And when they tire and sleep, 
You know what to do:
Grab your axe, pick the ice, 
And get out of this lair.

I told you the tale got chilling and dark,
And trust me, there's power in cuteness. 
The Lair is not, by nature, a threat,
Unless you make it a nightmarish trip. 

Some who've supposedly been there remark
That there's a treasure if you progress
And don't back out first chance you get.
Well, that treasure, clearly, is friendship.

Simon And The Snowager
by Phadalusfish

Yep, the plushie Tuskaninny
Thought. I should have trusted
My gut, even though it's made
Of nothing but stuffing.

He looked longingly across
The massive cavern of the
Snowager's cave, to the very
Peak of a tower of Neggs.

Power Negg. He thought
Longingly of his gallery,
Far away in Neopia Central,
And how it was almost complete.

He also thought of the vault
With his name on it at
The National Neopian,
Which was as empty as the

Cavern was full. At least
The actual plushies around
Him were soft and fluffy,
And provided insulation

Against the cold.
Periodically, a fresh shiver
Ran down Simon's spine
And a Neopet cried out,

Caught in the Snowager's
Breath. Six times now,
Over the past two days,
He'd put his head down

And gone to sleep, but
Always on the plushie pile.
Simon couldn't blame him:
They were pretty comfortable.

He had to hold his breath to
Escape notice when the
Snowager reared up to
Intimidate an intruder,

And he lay awake at night,
Afraid that if he tossed
In his sleep or had a
Nightmare, he would be found out.

Early morning. The sun hadn't
Yet pierced the opening
To the Snowager's den, but
Simon heard a voice from

Farther beneath him in the
Plushie pile. "I knew it!"
The voice whispered. "I'm
NOT the only one!"

Simon looked down and saw
A squirming plushie Buzz, his
Wings pinned under the helmet
Of an Alien Aisha plushie.

A chorus of voices answered
The Buzz -- at least a dozen
Other trapped plushie Neopets.
"What can we do?" Simon asked.

The Buzz's answer came with
A resounding echo:

"SNOWBALL FIGHT!"