Board Writing :: RoR: Idiotic Iteration :: Page 3
And thus the Knight left the competitors in the caramel as he charged on into the distance.
“On I go, to the Cherry Chicken Conjourne to take the command of the Farms of Chuck!” the giant’s booming voice carried over back to the four stuck to their environment.
The Fashion Mage, who had caught up a bit too close to D and hit the heel of his boot, was knocked backwards into the caramel mess, and tripped Bimblesnaff all in one go, took a look at his dirty garments and began to smile.
“Ah, the enlightenment!” Bimblesnaff’s companion cried out in realization. “The new style of chocolate and caramel! Why haven’t I found this before?!” The Makeover Mage would’ve stood in triumph to celebrate his finding, but the gooeyness of the situation forced him to settle with his caramel angel.
“Aw man, what is that?” the lunatic demanded upon seeing Kodiro’s work of art. “That is no way to draw!” Disgusted with the mage’s lack of artistic ability, the freak destroyed the angel image and began to give a quick art lesson, drawing crooked stick figures in the caramel as examples of the “correct” way to draw.
“Hey, draw us straight!” the sticks screamed. “Little kids never give us any respect!”
“Nor do they respect sacred images,” the defaced angel managed to reply without a visible mouth.
“Shaddup!” Bimblesnaff retorted by ruining the ruined drawings even more.
Rex Ranarum was simply trying to free himself from the caramel prison, and Hadoleo was simply busy trying to free his right hand to hold to his newly bruised face, when burning cries alerted all to the fact that Gariland was approaching. The flaming man ran past the lot of them, and although none could see him directly due to their sticky positions, all could feel the heat he exuded.
“Wait, heat and caramel?” the student murmured to himself, and began to realize, “Uh-oh.”
The amphibious one would have queried Hadoleo’s muttering, but decided against it when the river of the sugary substance began flowing faster due to the caramel melting more from the excess heat. The foursome began to be swept away, but the drawings faced a worse fate. They melted away.
“I do say, this is a revolutionary fashion!” Kodiro exclaimed upon examining his new clothing style of chocolate and caramel, which he managed to fashion up with the help of his now-caramel-covered wand of styling. “I must see how this looks on others.”
The goblin had righted himself and was attempting to get out of the caramel torrent and away from Kodiro when he spotted him.
“Hey, you were the one who desperately needed a makeover!” the mage yelled.
“Didn’t ya listen to me last time? Your style ideas suck!” Bimblesnaff shouted back as he swam away from the Fashion Mage. Luckily for the freak, Kodiro wasn’t as adept at swimming through caramel as he was at identifying and picking excellent clothing fashions, which was already rather bad to begin with.
“Something doesn’t make much sense here.” Hadoleo went on. “At normal room temperature, caramel is supposed to solidify, if I recall correctly…”
The frog man meanwhile was swimming away from the student deep in thought, greatly helped by his amphibious abilities but also greatly hindered by the sticky substance he had to swim through.
“…So if the caramel we were stuck in was already in a somewhat gooey state, then it must have already been heated above normal temperature. Which means…that’s it!” the student suddenly shouted. “That flaming guy wasn’t responsible for this heinous crime!”
“Yes he was.” Rex shouted back. “What outdated deductive skills are you using?”
“I’m so glad I thoroughly read through The Secrets to Detectives’ Deductiveness and Reasoningness!” the student went on, ignoring the question. As an afterthought, Hadoleo attempted to open his backpack only to find that the zippers were stuck together by caramel. “Aw, man, those guys sold me off with this ‘All-Purpose Backpack’!”
By that time, though, the student was speaking to himself, since the King had already gotten himself out of the caramel.
Of course, none of these events concerned the Knight of the single letter, who continued ever vigorously in his pursuit of…the…
“I shall succeed! I will obtain the Blue Bird of Bane!” D announced with the Nary Wary Gary running beside him.
Right. Thanks. And so he leads well ahead of the others.
"Hey, what's shakin'?" asked the goblin as he passed Hadoleo.
"Oh, it's just terrible!" he began. "The rapids! They are caused by... are you walking?" The freak looked to his feet, firmly planted on the flowing goop.
"Pfft, loser," scoffed the Ghobling.
"But you don't understand!" cried out the student, reaching toward the escaping monster from waste deep in sweets. "The melted caramel -- it is caused by... the sun." Puzzled enough to halt his trek, Bimblesnaff stopped, looked up, looked back, looked up again, looked into the future, used X-ray vision to see the future's skivvies, and then looked back to the student one more time with a very confused expression.
"What?" finally spurted out the freak.
"No, not that sun! It's the... Second Sun!"
And a massive explosion ripped through the syrupy river as we turn else where. Hey, Vinny, whatcha up to?
"Leave me alone, talking shoulder," an obviously confused D-Knight spoke to own body parts. "Can't you see that we are in a competition? And I shall defeat you!"
"Hey D," greeted Rex as he caught up. "Is your shoulder givin' ya guff again?"
"No, it forgot my birthday," the grizzled knight sniffed, "and it knew I needed a brand new guff. My old one has a hole in it."
Hey, did you hear that, guys? I think a tidal wave is coming.
"Hey, King, did you hear that?" asked D, ignoring the Nary Wary Gary once more.
"I think so," replied Of The Frogs. "It could only be one thing that I can think of..." That usually consisted of cotton candy and cartoons.
Idiocy aside, it was quite fitting for the rapids made of caramel -- the swiftest liquid in the world -- that the Caramel Rapids are home to the swiftest breed in the world -- the reverse sloth! The reverse sloth is everything the sloth isn't, and the sloth is not very many things. In fact, it is absolutely nothing other than a sloth. Strangely enough, when all non-sloth things are combined together, they produce something that surprisingly resembles a regular sloth, only...
"Egads! It's wearing a funny hat!"
"Um, that isn't a reverse sloth," the frog pointed out. "That's a caramel tidal wave."
"Yeah... but it's still wearing a funny hat." And so the fez-wearing tidal wave bore down on the two. As their heads poked back above the sugary surge, the source of the rush -- the dastardly Second Sun -- loomed over the fallen ones with 'Leo at weapon-point of his cannibalistic, reverse sloth army.
Hey, what happened to 'Snaff?... not that I care.
"Wow, you guys aren't evil at all," the evil goblin told his more-so captors. In the Far Away Fortress of the Second Sun, the reverse sloths watched over their newly filled prison cell with wide eyes and salivating mouths. "I mean, look at all this fattening food you are fattening me with!"
"Yesss," hissed one of them, "it isss only courtessssy sssince we are having you for dinner."
"Wow, I get to eat two dinners?" asked the hapless Ghobling. "What's for dessert?"
"I am thinking.... goblin cake!" it burst out laughing, soon joined by the others in his entourage as well as -- strangely but expectedly enough -- Bimblesnaff.
The vile Second Sun looked over its confusing pair of shades to the diminutively sized group. They were poised to be destroyed, for seemingly no good reason, and only one thing could save them...
"Wow! God just came out of that machine!" exclaimed a pointing frog, "and he's ice cream!"
"That's just a soft serve machine," groaned 'Leo, wishing just a little that the reverse sloths would kill him.
"Mmm, my God is a vengeful and delicious God... but mostly vengeful," and thus the author was immediately smitten for likening Him to frozen dairy.
"I have no idea what is going on right now," admitted the very perplexed Second Sun for the entire reading audience. Hadoleo wasted no time; amid the newer, higher level of confusion, the youth revealed his ultimate weapon -- the All-Purpose Cotton Swab! He flung the small double-sided utensil up and slowly made his getaway through the thick environment.
The King of the Frogs soon found himself pinned between the viscous rapids and weight of the swab. Of course, a very small girl would have the strength and sense to find her way from out a cotton swab, which he wasn't... well, there was that one time...
"I feel pretty!" pranced around the blue clad vagrant, uncharacteristically not clad in his trademark blue™.
"Gah! This isn't a flashback," gagged the sun, reeling back in horror. "Where did he get that dress?"
"I think he... grew it," told Vin, "from his skin."
Meanwhile, a whole eight feet away, Hadoleo had managed to escape the conflict. Wielding his all-purpose swab once more, he broke down the walls of Far Away Fortress... yes, I said "eight feet away."
"Don't worry, 'Snaff! I'm here to save you!" the student said at the rubbled wall. "Wait... why?" With an uncaring shrug, he turned back, leaving the Goblin in his cell.
"Well, 'bout time!" exclaimed Gobbo. "I cou'n't stand another second in this hellhole!" So he finished his wine and rack of lobster and fled out hole. A reverse sloth guard came upon the now vacant prison, brandishing a wickedly large butcher knife, a devious grin, and -- of course -- a funny hat. His demeanor vanished and his beanie's propeller stopped spinning when he saw that the dinner guest was no more.
"He just... left?" whined the not-sloth. "But I slaved so long in the kitchen in preparation for him." And so in utter shock, the unsloth allowed the knife to slip to the floor, as it did to the cake it also carried, decorated to resemble Bimblesnaff's head.
Downstream, Gariland had problems of his own. The depressed Goth was lying in a pool of molten caramel on the banks of the river. His worst fear had been realised, he had been completely forgotten.
"But you remembered me. Right?" asked Gariland hopefully.
Of course I did. It's certainly not like I was just passing through on the way to the nearest bathroom.
Choosing to ignore the obvious sarcasm of the narrator's last comment, the Goth set off in the direction of the Gingerbread swamp with new resolve. Humming a death metal tune even more painful than Kodiro's fashion tips the man in black hit the lead.
A whole three feet away from Far Away Fortress, the rest of the competitors were having an argument about which way to go next. Suddenly, the Lunatic came up with a devious plan.
"I did? Oh, that plan," muttered the goblin who, after waiting for Hadoleo to explain which way is up to the majority of the contestants, started giving a descriptive, logical and incredibly false set of directions.
"So, on the other side of the caramel rapids."
"Past the remains of the Cotton Candy Mountain."
"Along the path to the fiery ruins of The Tavern."
"We'll find the path to the Gingerbread swamp."
"Exactly," replied Bimblesnaff. "And because I'm such a great guy I'll even guard the rear."
"Ew, 'guard the rear'? Yeah, you would do that, sicko. 'Cuz you're sick... You sicko."
"But," complained Rex, "you were the one who said that! How could you possibly turn that around against me?" His question fell upon an upside-down bucket with a pebble set on its bottom, which was sitting in for the maniac. "Oh, the silent treatment, ey?" He wiped his webbed fingers over this face while producing comical noises. "I'll show you, wise guy!" Leaping upon the bucket, the frogman quickly became subdued by it. "Ah! Someone, help!" Scratching the back of his head, 'Leo turned to the Knight of D.
"What are we even doing here?" queried the student. "Hello, Vin? Answer me!" He waved his hands in front of the sack of flour that had a face drawn on it, sideways. "Oh, so a wise guy, ey?" He leapt upon the bag...
Knowing the way to the sought land, the one with darkness sped across the path silently, leaving no prints from his graceful steps. However, amidst this steps, he left plenty of face prints with ashen outlines and yellow puddles.
"At this rate," he proclaimed to himself, and, assumable, Gary, while lifting himself from the earth, etching the number 253, "I'll be dining on Lengendairy by next year! Much sooner than I would have ever thought," he admitted while rubbing his hands together greedily before remembering that they were being used to lift himself up and thus promptly returned him to the road.
Hot on his tail plowed forth the giant, Vincent. Fueled with rage, he sought the Wooden Pistol of Glowing to smite the one who murdered his beloved own self back in his childhood. Additionally, I warned him not to drink the water in that stream. It was not clear. Not clear!
"Outta the way, stick man," boomed the grizzled warrior. "There's a cat that needs to have its hair trimmed, and only the Blessed Clippers of Glory can shear its adamantium shafts!"
Seriously, do you listen to yourself?
"Of course not!" loudly denied the hulking traveler. "Don't you think I would have stopped speaking long ago if I did?"
Fair enough, accepted the Nary Wary Gary with a shrug. Approaching a fork in the road, the locomotive charge was brought to an abrupt halt, peeling up the earth itself beneath his feet with the momentum of his stop. Cautiously, he investigated the two courses. The trackless paths made it difficult to discern which way was taken by the Rumbler in the lead as anyone could have left those ash surrounded pee holes, unlike footprints. Pausing from his narration, Gary coughed Moron before continuing. On the left, dark shadows were cast out long by bare trees with sickly branches, oozing ungodly fluids. The other path was lined with flowers and frolicking beavers. The right choice was obviously the right choice. ... by which I mean the side... for either of those 'rights', I guess.
"Really?" burst out D. "Well, my gut was telling me to take the road lined with human skulls, but, hell. You know best, mop guy."
I am not a mop! complained Gary as Vince used the power's upturned body to soak up the remains Gariland left behind. As the two passed around the bend, two other figures emerged from the sinister side, the man draped in a grey coat and the finned canine.
"Wow, I can't believe the Land of Utter Happy and Ice Cream was down that scary path," squeaked the blue dog.
"It makes sense since they double as a Halloween store in the fall," the man pointed out, "what, with all their hordes of candy and such." Swallowing a mouthful of roasted duck, he spoke up: "So, um... can we have sex?"
"NO!" retched the horrified beast, forcing itself to keep from vomiting, a failed task.
"Oh, what? Is it because I'm human and you aren't?" blew off the odd man. "That should be a problem for me, not you."
"No, the reason isn't bestiality, you ugly man," she corrected. "It's because I'm a lesbian!" From no where, most likely the Land of Utter Happy, stepped forth a beautiful woman who promptly started to make out with tongue with the finned quadruped.
"I... don't even know if I'm messed up enough to enjoy this," struggled the coated man to say, not believing it himself. Without warning, the bodies of the two enthralled females burst open to reveal entwining tentacles. "Well, I know I'm not," he restated, producing a digital camcorder, "but some sick bastard out there is.
As the brave travelers returned to the tavern after falling into the dastardly plot of the Ghobling, who is now ransacking the large boat-
“A golden chandlier! Even better! Peanut Butter!”
There is a shocking discovery that the pub has been rebuilt.
“Ow, it stings!” complained Hadeleo.
“Suck it up and take it like a man!” The king of frogs growled as he wiped tears from his eyes.
“But who would do such a thing?” Questioned Kodiro “I mean who would be so bold to put up such an atrocious structure back to its original state?”
A shadow stepped off the roof, luckly, it was tethered. Stylish Safety glasses shined on his slightly unshaven face, illuminated from the light above the door, the overall clad man tipped his safety hat and spoke:
“Almost landed on you, that would have thrown a wrench into your day! The name’s Jack Phillips, the Handyman.”
“So you were commissioned to take part in the restoration of this historical icon of Ref to let the legend of Rumblo be remembered?” Hadeleo queried.
Removing and official looking document from his back pocket, the dangling man quoteth: “Dear Sir, Madame, or proper moniker: Our town, The Tavern, is currently tavernless. As this is the main source of revenue for the town, we have no money to pay you, but not only will you be known as the rebuilder of the historical landmark for the start of the Rumblo, but you’ll get half of the revenue from the gift shop.”
“You mean I could have just stolen this can-a-teen from there?” Voiced the Pharaoh of Frogs.
While NWG started shaking his head, Jack released himself from his tether, dropping to a heroic pose.“Evil never measures up to good.”
“Actually the original structure never had a gift shop, but I’m quite curious what would be for sale at the newly installed one…” the student commentated.
“Of course I installed one, that’s what that counter is there for!” Jack congratulated himself.
The only voice came not from the stupefied group but from closely behind them. “Fools! You fell into my trap! You came all the way back here in the opposite direction!”
“Seems like you guys are all screwed.” Handyman threw in.
“Yet why did you come back here, no wait, it was to rub it in our faces wasn’t it.” Sighed Hadeleo. As the cackling fiend ran off, slathering peanut butter, or at least what was thought to be peanut butter, all over his own face. “Well we might as well try to catch-”
“HOLD IT!” The tyrant of toads croaked. A funeral was held briefly. “As I was saying,” he said as he rose from his lack-of-grave, “He fooled us once, we all know that as a fact, we don’t want to be fooled again. Thus we keep going this direction, since surely, he is trying to trick us again. Thus we continue on this path.”
Not much more happened for a brief while, aside for a sentient pile of moldy jello making its way past the building.
“That idea is all crack and no spackle!” Voiced Phillips.
Took you that long to think up that one?
MEANWHILE along the dextral path, the knight of funk decreed that he would obtain the Wellwishing Wood to free the beavers from their fears, which at the current time was the odd Gariland, still in the lead..
“I actually hope the black furred smelly is gone by the time the shiny green one returns.” Presumably said one beaver.
“I kinda hope they both leave.” Conveyed another through nonverbal means.
** There is still more to this story.
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