venerdì, agosto 20, 2004

The Chronicles of Teffaru: Episode 2

The Chronicles of Teffaru: Episode 2
By Eddie G.

Two guards ambled aimlessly across the rocky outcrop of the Mad Squirrel Range.

Their names were Bosch and Kalmbie, and they were exceedingly incompetent.

In fact, so incompetent were they that they had no idea that they were ambling aimlessly around in elaborate circles, and constantly tripping over rocks in the process.

The same rocks they tripped on over and over and over again.

“Fools! Fools! And rightly so.
One and two and away they go!”

For some reason, Sunny-Jebus the Court Jester had decided to join them.

“You’re no help!” complained Bosch bitterly, “why did you follow us anyway?”

“To amuse, and to be amused. But mostly to be amused,” chanted the Jester, “Scrubbie thinks so. Yes indeed.”

“Scrubbie’s an idiot!” snorted Kalmbie before tripping over the rock again.

“No, YOU are an idiot,” the Jester giggled.

“Well just don’t come running to us when you’ve got a couple of squirrels after your miserable heinie.”

For generations, the Mad Squirrel Range, as the name suggested, had a HUGE problem with mad squirrels. It probably explained why the populace of Teffaru rarely ventured there. Unless of course if the King were to send them there for some reason or another.

And for Bosch and Kalmbie, the reason was most princely.

“Hey those clump of bushes look awfully familiar,” said Bosch excitedly.

“They should,” Kalmbie replied, “we passed them some time back.”

And the “some time back” before the “some time back” before the “some time back”.

Elsewhere in the Mad Squirrel Range, Prince Kyovane hurried across the rocky wasteland. He knew that the only way out of Teffaru was through the Rillian Pass, and knowing his father, the King, there was probably a search party out to find him and bring him back.

Rillian Pass began to loom up ahead across the horizon. The Prince was making good time, and should reach there before nightfall. Briefly, he looked back and then heaved a long sigh. Looks like his father was too caught up with his “wrestling” to even bother sending a search party. After a moment or two, he continued his journey.

If only the Prince would have looked a tad longer, he would have seen the search party, along with a Court Jester, being bound, gagged and carried off by two giant squirrels.

The sun had just slipped behind the mountains when the Prince reached Rillian Pass. This was it, he told himself. The beginning of his quest to find true love. A huge sign that read “Now leaving Teffaru… you crazy bastard!” merely gave it affirmation. He braced himself, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. Unknown perils awaited the young Prince in his road ahead.

The first of them came in the form of a dark Figure who stood in his way.

“Turn back,” the Figure said, “for you have no reason to leave this land… you crazy bastard!”

The Prince squinted in the near-darkness, and could barely make out the Figure who challenged him. It was draped in a dark flowing cloak, and carried a shining blue sword in its hands. Upon closer inspection, he realized that the Figure also sported a pair of cherubic wings.

“Stand off!” he ordered fiercely, drawing his blade “for I shall not relent until one of us falls.”

“Fine,” the Figure muttered, “if you want to learn the hard way.”

With dazzling speed, the Figure took flight and soared overhead the Prince. A blue gleam from behind betrayed the Figure’s deft strike, allowing the Prince enough time to react and parry the blow. Fiercely, he retaliated, but his blade only met with the night air.

Again the Figure spiralled down on its opponent, but the Prince managed to dodge the incoming strike and countered with a graceful uppercut, grazing the Figure’s shoulder.

Reeling slightly, the Figure swore and then swooped down for yet another attack. The blue blade was glowing menacingly now as it nearly took the Prince’s head off in a manic swing. Just as the Prince was about to strike out at the Figure, the blue blade came crashing down again on his weapon, disarming him and sent it sprawling across the uneven ground. Unperturbed, the Prince charged at the Figure, in an attempt to headbutt it – a move he had learnt from his Jester.

“You mortals never learn,” groaned the Figure as it held the Prince by the head, preventing him from further advancing.

“Wait and see, demon,” growled the Prince, his arms flailing about futilely at the Figure who still had his head in its hands.

This mortal needed to be taught a lesson…

When Bosch and Kalmbie regained conciousness, they found themselves both tied to a stake.

“Oi! Let us go!” demanded Bosch as soon as he found the energy to.

“Who would do such a thing?” whimpered Kalmbie.

“Must be them squirrels.”


“Yea. Did you se the size of those freaks?”

A moment of silence passed and then:



“I don’t want to die.”

Those words had a profound effect on the two guards, who promptly broke into hysterical tears.

“Tsk! Such manly guards Teffaru is blessed with,” chimed the Sunny-Jebus who was tied to a separate stake. That did little to stop the crying however.

Presently, two squirrels scampered in, squirrels twice as big as they were.

“Feisty little critters aren’t they?” the bigger squirrel asked.

“What manner of creatures be you!” shouted Bosch.

The squirrels spent the next hour rolling on the floor with violent laughter.

And when giant squirrels laugh, you had better join them.

“Is it customary for you humans to ask stupid questions despite being the ones held captive?” mused the smaller one finally, “but since you’re that eager to find out, the name’s Furcoat, and my younger brother here is Mink. And yes, we are squirrels. Say after me, ‘squir-rels’.”

“I know what your are,” the Jester snapped, “but Scrubbie wants to know why we are here.”

“Who’s Scrubbie? Did we miss one?” wondered Mink.

“That’s just the name of his silly hat,” grumbled Kalmbie.

And again the squirrels spent another hour on the ground in helpless spasms of laughter.

“This is precious!” hooted Furcoat, “but now it’s our turn to ask questions. And we would now like to know what you were doing on our turf.”

“Your turf?” echoed Bosch.

“Blast! You humans are not only stupid, but deaf too,” grumbled Mink, “yes. OUR TURF! We squirrels have been living here for generations. We squirrels run this here place. That’s why it’s called Mad Squirrel Range and not… and not… and not something else.”

“But we were only passing by,” protested Bosch.

“PASSING BY?!?” roared Furcoat, “let’s make this clear alright? Wild animals pass by, the Great Westerly Winds pass by, the Sun and the Moon pass by, a dashingly handsome man passed by. You three, however, were going around in elaborate circles, constantly tripping over our lawn ornaments, inviting us to catch you.”

Bosch looked at Kalmbie.

“So that’s what we’ve been doing eh?” he said.

“A mistake, a mistake we’ve gravely make,” moaned the Jester, “So our apology, sirs, we bid you take.”

The squirrels were touched by the Jester’s magnanimous words. No one had ever apologized to them before, mostly because their captives would usually scream “GIANT SQUIRRELS!!!” before passing out over and over again.

To reward the Jester’s efforts, the squirrels untied him.

“Apology accepted,” they chorused.

“That’s really nice and all,” said Bosch, “but what about us? We’re sorry too.”

“We know you are,” said Mink sadly, “but I’m afraid we are still going to eat you.”

“EAT US?!?” screamed Kalmbie, “I thought you guys only eat nuts.”

And he regretted saying that.

Furcoat grinned. “Of course we eat nuts,” he said, “but we usually like to eat those last.”

Prince Kyovane had no idea how long he had been hanging from the tree, but his aching arms gave him a pretty decent idea. From his current surroundings, he knew he was no longer anywhere near Rillian Pass.

The Figure who put him there no longer wore the dark cloak it had been wearing and now sat on a nearby rock looking up at him.

“Serene, isn’t it? Booya Wood?” it smilingly asked.

The Prince held his silence.

“Tsk. Such resilience from a mere mortal,” it mused.

The Figure was none other than the demi-Mortal known as The Eddie G. in hiS incarnate form.

“Keep silent all you want, mortal” hE laughed, “I’m not the one hanging around here.”

The Eddie G. lit a cigarette, took a puff, started coughing violently and then stubbed in out, cursing and swearing. So much for acting cool, hE thought.

“What do you want from me, demon?” the Prince glowered painfully.

“Ah it finally speaks.”

“Accursed demon, you will not get away with this!”

“Look numbnuts,” The Eddie G. said, “how many times must I tell you, I am NOT a demon. Demons have pointed horns, I don’t. Demons carry pitchforks, I don’t. Demons wear red rubber underwear, and I… let’s just skip that one. And a demon would sure have carved you up like a turkey on Thanksgiving Day by now.”

Thanksgiving Day was an annual celebration in Teffaru, glorious Teffaru where people spend the day being thankful for what they have, after 364 days of complaining about what they don’t.

And why poor, defenceless turks – I mean turkeys – are slaughtered by the thankful celebrants and then brutally carved up to be eaten still remains an enigma to this very day.

“Then why do you still tie me to a tree?” asked the Prince, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to run away from a winged demi-Mortal even if he tried.

“Wrong question.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” the right question.

“Pretty much.”

“So are you going to get me down?”


“THEN WHAT DO YOU WANT?” the Prince yelled.

“Questions questions questions,” The Eddie G. said, “we know you’re more than capable of asking them. But can you answer as well as you can ask?”

“Answer what?”

“See, mortal. You’re not getting my drift are you now? The solution does not lie within the questions you ask, but in the questions you answer. I have a question for you, and if you answer it satisfactorily, I shall release you.”

“Looks like I have not much of a choice,” grumbled the Prince.

“Ah, but choice is merely an illusion,” The Eddie G. smirked. “Very well then. Your question is: What are the three questions that idiots love to ask?”

The Prince was stunned. He wasn’t expecting a question of such nature.

“You want me to answer that?”

“Very good,” beamed The Eddie G., “now for the other two.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Splendid! Now for the last one.”


“WE HAVE A WINNER!” The Eddie G. yelled back.

“So you’re going to let me down now?”

“Whoa! I only wanted three questions. So what did you learn from all this?”

The Prince bowed his head, defeated.

“I’m an idiot.”

As he said those words, the magical ropes that once bound the Prince snapped and he tumbled to the ground.

“Knowing your weakness is half the battle won,” The Eddie G. smiled. “You seek desperately for love, but you have not yet learned to love yourself. But that will all change in due time, I assure you. For now, another journey awaits us. Come along then.”

“Hey where we going?” the Prince called after.

The Eddie G. turned around and smiled.

“I’ll tell you in the next episode.”

In the blink of an eye:

  • The Chronicles of Teffaru: Episode 1

  • The Chronicles of Teffaru: Episode 3

  • The Chronicles of Teffaru: Episode 3;Part II

  • The Chronicles of Teffaru: Episode 4

  • The Chronicles of Teffaru: Episode 5
  • Ye who seek for audience, let ye speak now!

    And so it came to past that at 29 agosto, 2004 14:28, in the presence of The Eddie G., Anonymous Anonimo had spoken the following...

    Goodness gracious me, you really DO have too fucking much free time on your hands dude.

    And so it came to past that at 10 ottobre, 2004 17:24, in the presence of The Eddie G., Blogger anna. had spoken the following...

    Oh what a tangled web we weave... when trying to explain something to a complete idiot.

    :D Nicely done my friend!


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