Short Stories

	In the Wake of Wreckage What reason have ye for locking me in the brig?” I shouted through the corroded iron bars. “Can’t ye see that I be innocent?” It should have been painfully obvious to these sailors that I was the victim. by sir_serene
	The Missing Wheel: A Mystery Whodunnit "My fellow Neopians, authorities have asked that this be published in the Neopian Times, insisting that crucial help is needed to swiftly retrieve a lost artefact. One of the beloved daily activities all Neopians enjoy, the..." by rachu816
	Ramona and The Snowager "As Ramona stepped out of her hut, the snow started falling harder. Neopets and their owners quickly ran in and out of the building across the way..." by peppermintandrea
	A Walk in Each Other’s Step Out Shoes Do I look pretty?" The Gelert twirled happily in her new dress. Its bright fuchsia material clashed with the Green of her fur, but the shopkeeper, a beautiful Blue Uni wearing a lustrous blonde wig, clapped her hooves boisterously for her. by hybatsu
	Off-Season's Greetings "Kep asks the question right after their last practice, just as Layton's getting ready to dismiss the team..." by azurryn

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"In the Wake of Wreckage" by sir_serene
“What reason have ye for locking me in the brig?” I shouted through the corroded iron bars. “Can’t ye see that I be innocent?” It should have been painfully obvious to these sailors that I was the victim. And yet, when they found me drifting among the wreckage out at sea, they had quickly tossed me into that dreadful cage. “Tell yer captain that I would request an audience so that I may set the record straight and clear my name.” When they finally returned, they dragged me out of the cell by chains that bound my wrists. My foot dragged behind as we made our way through the ship. “Slow down will ye! Can’t ye see that I be injured?” My cries of pain went ignored. I was wrenched into the brisk night air, onto the deck above. “I said slow down!” I cried once more as they dragged me across the deck. As we neared, the door to the ship's upper cabin burst open. With one swift push I was forced through it and thrust onto the floor. The door slammed behind me and I was left alone with the captain of the ship, a seemingly salty, if not fashionable Blue Acara. She wore a brilliant red coat and a matching hat with a large, ebony plume sticking out of it. “I hear ye’ve been clamorin’ down below about supposed mistreatment,” she said.

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