Sanity is forbidden Circulation: 177,117,134 Issue: 320 | 30th day of Storing, Y9
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The Pen IS Mightier Than the Sword


by mubu89

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WARNING: Submitting an article to the Neopian Times may be harmful to your health.

     This is the warning I believe should be on every submission ad for the Neopian Times, because I had a personal experience involving the dangers of submitting an article to the NT. This is my story.

     I sat slouched on the sofa, a wide grin playing across my face as I sifted through my huge amount of mail. Not just any mail. This was fan mail.

     So this was what the big time was like. A few days ago I had entered an article to the NT, and sure enough, yesterday morning the paper came out with my name printed under the article I had written. Now today I had received loads of mail asking about my article and when my next one would come out.

     It really was a good article, if I do say so myself. It was titled, 'Why the Guildmaster's Dinner Was Canceled'. It was basically a list of reasons of how the Thieves Guild is just a band of cowardly, wimpy lowlives. It was pretty simple to write. It seemed Neopia liked invective writing, so that's what I gave them. I should have known it would come back to haunt me.

     When I was tired of reading fan mail, I went to my desk and took out a white quill pen my friend had given me from his white weewoo. This was the quill I had used to write my article. I could have used a cool pen from the School Supplies Shop, but I decided to use something more quaint.

     "Fair writing utensil, I dub thee my lucky quill!" I said in mock-Old English. I put the quill in my pocket and vowed that I would keep it there for safekeeping so my luck would keep. Perhaps it was just a superstition, but it was not to be so.

     There was a loud knock on the door. Without bothering to see who it was, I threw open the door, expecting some fan. Instead, standing before me clad in his blue thief tatters was Galem, Founder of the Thieves Guild, and my main subject of abuse in my Neopian Times article!

     "Hello, Mr. Koey, is it?" he said, pushing me out of the way and inviting himself inside my house. As I was only a small yellow Kacheek, he was able to push me to the other side of my front room. Behind him came five more thieves, probably the pitiful remainder of the Thieves Guild.

     "Uh, Mr. Galem, sir, so nice to see you," I commented nervously as I dialed a number on my Virtuphone. It was the newest thing Virtupets had released, and barely anyone had them, so they weren't really much use, but I knew someone who had one.

     Galem's sword slid out of its sheath with an icy hiss. I found its cool blade resting upon my chest. "Cut the pleasantries, Kacheek. I read what you wrote about me. And know you're going to pay," he said. Around him his cohorts were drawing their weapons and grinning wickedly. "You're going to pay big time."

     I drew myself up to my full height, which was about to Galem's waste. "Actually you're not, Galem," I said with more confidence then I felt. "Fyora the Faerie Queen has heard every word you've said, and she's on her way here to 1058 Neopia Avenue of Neopia Central this very moment," I said, making sure to emphasize the address. What I had said wasn't strictly true; she had only heard the last thing Galem said, but she would know that something was up, and now she knew where I was so she could teleport here and take away Galem.

     This seemed to frighten Galem and his crew. They looked around for a moment, but when they didn't see her, they sneered. "I don't see Fyora here anywhere," snarled Galem. "She must be running a little late. Oh, I don't doubt she'll be here eventually, but by that time there won't be enough left of you to feed a scarabug." He pointed his blade at my chest. "Any last words, Kacheek?"

     Even at this time I felt my hand digging about in my pocket, one of my nervous habits. I felt a torn piece of parchment, and my lucky quill. That was when I got an idea.

     "Actually, I have two," I replied cheerfully as I pulled out my quill. "Tickle tickle!" I began tickling him madly with the quill. A rather wimpy attack, but believe it or not, it seemed to work! Galem fell flat on the floor, giggling insanely. I quickly got up and continued my feathery assault.

     For a moment Galem's crew was stricken dumb at the site of their leader being rendered helpless by a quill pen, but then they realized they should be helping and advanced towards me. I decided to try something.

     "Get back!" I shouted. "Or Galem gets it worse." This seemed to work. The thieves stopped dead in their tracks, pondering what to do.

     Making their decisions for them, Galem exclaimed in the midst of his giggling fit, "Get away, you fools, ha ha. Or I'll flog your, hee hee, sorry hides!"

     This seemed to convince them. They backed slowly out of the room, and then ran like mad out the door and away from my house. Which was lucky for them, because at that moment the Faerie Queen showed up.

     I didn't notice her in the midst of my onslaught. "Take this! And that! You villain!" I howled as I tickled. I was tickling so hard that my quill began to break.

     "Stop it, you fiend!" shouted Fyora. I saw her and backed away, expecting her to turn Galem into a mortog. But instead, she grabbed me by the back of the neck and said, "Let the poor beast up. You wicked old torturer, tickling the poor Grarrl to death."

     Galem scrambled out of the house, and was never seen again. "A 'Thank you' wouldn't have been missed!" she shouted after him. She turned to me. "Now what shall I do with you, wretch?" she wondered aloud.

     "But I didn't..."

     "What kind of filthy neopet are you?" she interrupted. "Torturing and then denying it? It's to the Faerieland dungeons with you." And without another word she escorted me up to Faerieland, where solitary awaited me. I say escort, but actually we simply transported up to Faerieland. There was a flash of pink (Fyora Note: Purple!), and the next thing I knew I was standing in a long stone corridor lit only by candle lanterns. I tried to move my arms, but found I was handcuffed. And who was leading me but none other than Jhudora the Dark Faerie.

     “Wait a sec, I thought you were evil, and hated Fyora,” I commented.

     She turned on me, eyes full of fire. “That’s right, I am and I do, as far as you’re concerned. And if it EVER gets out that I’m helping her, then I will personally roast you alive.” All I could do was nod stiffly, although inside I felt like Galem a few minutes ago.

     So to make a long story short, she spent a half hour threatening me about what she would do if I ever told anyone what happened. Which is just what I’m doing now. Ah, the sacrifices that are made for the sake of literature.

     So here I am, sitting in a cold cell in Faerieland, writing on a torn piece of parchment with a broken quill pen, to tell you the dangers of writing for the Neopian Times.

The End

If you're reading this, I got into the NT! (No duh) Hope ya'll liked it. This is Master Sploofy, signin' out!

 
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