Those Aren't Pickles...

      When you step past the tall iron-cladded gate that allows you to enter The Deserted Fairground, you will see several uncanny games and shops available for your choosing. You may decide to subject yourself to draining your pockets after engaging in sketchy entertainment only to turn up with meager rewards. Only, there won’t be any manager you will be speaking with to get your refund. Such is the way of business in this part of Neopia.

      If you end up frustrated with your time at The Haunted Woods after such trickery, you may decide to spend your hard earned neopoints at places with more merit. That is where you may turn to the foreboding cave with holes that resemble a face, a giant ax wedged in its formation (who put it there?), stalactites and stalagmites that resemble teeth, and a fiery orange glow coming from inside. If you dare step inside, you will be met with a Ghost Scorchio inside of The Haunted Weaponry store.

      You may be lucky (or unlucky) and notice that there is a selection of items in stock on the shelves for you to purchase. Only, you may be met with horrors unimagined once before you lay your eyes on a jar with a pale green liquid inside. No, this is not a pickle jar, but rather a jar of fermented Meepit eyes, complete with the head of the Meepit those eyes came from. It’s called a Jar of Meepit Eyes (how fitting). Apparently you can use them for combat, but personally eyeballs aren’t my first choice of weapon when it comes to battle.

      So, where does such a shocking item come from? Who makes them and why? These were questions that were floating in my head when I first laid my eyes on this “weapon” (no pun intended). I knew I would not get these answers myself, but would rather have to talk to the sentient tree of the woods. Apparently, The Brain Tree remembers everything it has ever heard ever since its creation. Surely it would remember the origin of these eyeballs, right?

      When I made my lackluster walk through the damp soils and muted scenery of The Haunted Woods towards The Brain Tree, I had all of the hope I could possess. The Brain Tree had to know about this peculiarity. The Brain Tree practically knew everything at this point after all of the quests it had fulfilled. Only, when I approached this chilling creature and gazed at its pulsating brain did I start to get a funny feeling in my stomach.

      “What brings you here?” its booming voice echoed off of the skies. I recoiled at the volume, having been used to the eerie solitude the woods had brought before. After I composed myself, I brought myself a little closer to the tree. Its glowing red eyes followed me with each step I made. “I only have one question for you.” I slightly trembled. A sly grin could be seen on The Brain Tree’s face as it listened to my inquiry. “What is the origin of the Jar of Meepit Eyes that are sold in The Haunted Weaponry store?”

      “Of course you wouldn’t know such a thing, weakling. You have nowhere near a brain as large as mine.” the tree mocked in a boasting voice. “That’s why you come to me, the smartest creature in all of Neopia!” A contemptuous laughter could be heard, causing the tree to vibrate with each laugh. Once the laughter died out, the tree paused before speaking again. “I will not just simply answer your question. You must help my friend Esophagor, first.”

      Although I was dismayed by The Brain Tree’s response, I didn’t let it show in my face. I had a feeling it was better to appear indifferent over distress to this sentient being. At this point, I realized I didn’t even want to know the answer to my own question that badly… not when I would be faced to the giant, conscious pile of sludge with piercing red eyes. No question would be dire enough to make me want to subject myself to the horrors of such a beast. Though, I had a sneaking suspicion that things would not turn out well for me if I turned down a request from The Brain Tree, so I relented.

      “I will make my way to see them now,” I quivered, failing to sound confident. With another shifty smile from the tree, I turned my back to it and made my way toward The Esophagor. After several paces, I could already hear the guttural howls in the air, pleading to be heard. “Sooooooo hungry…” Nothing could make me trust a creature with such a big appetite. Who knows how far its ravenous behavior goes?

      As I approached the sludge mound, my feet stepped in piles of slime that hindered me. The Esophagor had immediately spotted me, its cries becoming more needy. “IIIIIIIIII’m staaaaaaarving…” it despaired. As I looked into the gaping hole of the life form, I felt the unease I had momentarily set aside creep back in. I had to be strong, though. With a quick mental pep talk, I spoke. “I am here on the request of The Brain Tree,” I established with no hesitancy.

      The breathing heap of sludge closed its mouth and gave me a begrudging gaze. Its tune switched up quickly. “That twig always sends pathetic wash ups like you here to do its bids. When will someone come to me just to feed me?” it whined with a roll of his eyes. I had no words of solace to give as I took in its complaints. I was here exactly on the premise it declared, no misunderstandings to be cleared up. Thankfully I didn’t need to impose myself as The Esophagor dropped his protests with a singular gurgle of its…stomach?

      “Nevermind that. I will do whatever it wants. Just get me something to eat! IIIIIIII’m huuuuuungry! Get me a Chilled Eyeball Custard,” it hurried. What was it with this place and eyeballs? Also, that was its choice of cuisine? How disgusting and terrifying. My inner thoughts were unpleasant, but I did not dare let them enter the open air. “I will make your request hasty,” I announced with the intention to ease the anxiety of the bottomless pit in front of me. When I saw that my words had no effect on its state, I turned around in the piles of slime around my feet and made my way to Spooky Food.

      When I reached the stall of the Halloween Bruce, my eyes raked over the macabre buffet out on display. Much to my shock, there were not one, not two, but fifteen Chilled Eyeball Custards available for my purchase. Who knew such a dish was a commodity here? Although questions like “where did the eyeballs come from?” and “who buys these?” crept into my mind, I pushed them down. My curiosity was not something that felt safe to indulge in these parts of Neopia. With an unsteady point of my finger towards the custard and a quick exchange of neopoints, I was back on my way to The Esophagor.

      Upon my second arrival, I could sense the desperation of the slimy beast pick up once its sharp gaze met mine. “Yeeeeeeessssss! Yeeeeesssss! Giiiiiive iiiiiiit tooooo meeeee!” it groaned. Unnerved by the monster’s perpetual appetite, I threw the custard in its gaping mouth. It swallowed the whole thing without chewing, not bothering to taste it. “Ahhh… I suppose that will stave me over for now,” it slowly stated. “Now… what was it The Brain Tree had sent you out to me to do?”

      At this point, I had nearly forgotten about my undertaking. Those eyes… those drab eyes. Where did they come from? I suppose if I had come all this way, I had better make it worth my while. “Yes… I would like to inquire about the origin of the Jar of Meepit Eyes that is sold here,” I lightly pushed, wanting to sound polite. The Esophagor’s face lit up at my request. “I can answer whatever you’d like to know about those,” it began.

      “First, you should know there is no harm in harvesting Meepit eyes. There is a species of Meepit exclusive to The Haunted Woods that can pop off their heads and grow new ones with no consequence…” its eyes raked over my face as it tried to gauge my reaction to this new piece of information. The look on my face must’ve said it all. “Heh… I bet you’ve never heard of such a thing. Anyway, once we learned of this, we wanted to discover if there were any uses of these heads. With the help of Edna, we discovered that the eyeballs of these Petpets were magical and packed a punch.” It spoke as if all of this was normal, but to me it was far from it.

      “Anyway, little mortal, I think you’ve overstayed your stay here. Go on. Go back to Faerieland or whatever wimpy place you come from,” it ridiculed me. I didn’t need to be told twice. I had an opening to reclaim my sense of safety. With that, I stumbled through the piles of sludge that surrounded my feet and made my way out of the murky sticks. Never again would I come to The Haunted Woods, the land of warped realities.

     The End.